Title: Roads Less Travelled: Hunter's Moon: Alpha

Author: JINXwatcher

Feedback: Constructive comments always welcome: Feedback Forums @ Spangelish

Pairing: S/A

Rating: This story contains slash and adult content so MATURE READERS 18+

Spoilers: Assorted for the full seasons 1-4 on Buffy (With changes to events that deviate significantly from canon then on but you can expect this to be unlike the canon version of what went on.) and Angel:ts is pretty much defunct past the first and second seasons as many episodes are circumvented by this continuum and/or radically changed.

Warnings: The usual suspects for a Spangel story; Character deaths/bashing and general telling off of certain individuals; Some warnings for graphic violence and imagery; Reference to non-con (off-story) and physical and mental abuse (mostly alluded to off-screen).

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: Expect some timeline stitch witchery. This story takes place in an AU setting so some events will differ; at times significantly; from canon. Please excuse any minor/major discrepancies as artist license and suspend your disbelief and enjoy the story. As always thanks are going out to Myst and Mandie, my most excellent group of Beta/Editors.

Writer's Credits: (If Any)

Writer Websites: JINX's Personal Website Archive: Nightshades

JINXI's LiveJournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/jinxeffect

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

Distribution: Right now The Crypt (Aside from my personal Website) is cleared to host my work. 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: The origin of the Slayer line is revealed as the Ancients reach through time to unleash the next generation of Hunters.

Chapter Twenty

A soft knock and a quiet voice heralds Andrew's arrival at the door and Wes opens it with a warm smile. The young man is weighed down with a neatly folded stack of clothing, a freshly polished pair of boots, and his ubiquitous Binder-sized Organizer on top of it all.

"Good morning Andrew. You got our message. How are the preparations going?" Wes hugs the young man and pulls him inside just as Angel's door opens across the way and he steps out. "Good morning Angelus. Andrew is here to tell us how the plans are proceeding, you may as well get the others and we'll meet here."

"I've brought breakfast with me." Andrew advises in a quiet tone, stepping halfway behind Wes and looking at Angel skittishly. The taller man doesn't have to try to be very intimidating and from the looks he's shooting at Wes, he's giving it a good try right now. "It's in the chaffing dishes in the dining room." He offers.

"Great I'm starving; we can meet in the dining room in about ten minutes?" Wes doesn't wait for an answer as he steps back and closes the door on Angel's dower expression.

Andrew quakes faintly for several seconds and finally relaxes as the door remains closed and isn't flung open by a violent Vampire. "Was that wise?" He asks. "He looked pretty angry and the spell to keep him from going all 'Darth Vader' on us can't be cast until the new moon in three weeks." He walks to the padded bench at the foot of the bed and sets his burdens down carefully.

"The spell is ready then?" Wesley asks, turning away from the door and sitting on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes and socks.

"It took over a dozen of the finest Mages we could find to research and prepare a spell that would be foolproof but they believe that they've done it. The spell, grounds where it will be performed, and everything that is to be used for the ritual and spell has to be consecrated by the Priestesses of the Forest Temple, each night, for at least two weeks, until the night of the New Moon. The power required for the spell is tremendous so the Priests and Priestesses will cast it together while the High Mother conducts the ritual with Amy and Tara's assistance. They have assured me that it will be quite permanent once the spell is cast and bound to Angel by the ritual." Andrew informs him, plumbing his mind for the details he was told by the High Priest of the Phaedra's people.

"Did they tell you anything specific about the spell they're going to use? Are they banishing the Demon or merely confining it?" Wes asks curiously.

The bathroom door opens on a rush of steam and Will silently pads out of the grasping cloud of vapour, a towel securely wrapped around his waist but hardly large enough to provide anything but moderately modest coverage of his physical assets.

Andrew bounces in place happily smiling and jogs over as Spike crosses the room with open arms and dives in for a warm hug.

Wes almost grins as he imagines Andrew's long bushy tail would be wagging a mile a minute if he were to be sporting it at the moment. "The spell to hold Angelus is ready."

"I heard." Will offers in a neutral tone that gives Wes a moment's pause.

"Have you changed your mind about having it cast?" Wes asks frankly, knowing that it must be difficult for his best friend to consign his Sire to eternity in shackles but they agreed that it was the only option in light of the Elder Demon's obvious insanity.

"No I haven't changed my mind. Angelus can't be allowed his freedom. He knows how to conjure Acathla now." Spike replies. "I betrayed him once; another time can't be much harder."

"They aren't going to lock up Angelus, the Demon I mean." Andrew contradicts with a shy shrug. "If I understand everything that they told me they plan to do something with the soul. The Mages said that the problems were stemming from the fact that a Demon already has a soul, it's just not the one that the human body they inhabit had."

Wesley looks intrigued. "That actually makes quite a bit of sense. I always wondered how the gypsies could have possibly returned Angel's soul to him. It would have required something very personal that was tied to his life when he had a soul and not just anything would have sufficed to serve. Or they would have needed to use some item like hair or blood, some physical focus taken from him while he was souled to serve as the focus to return his soul. I'm not mistaken in assuming that they wouldn't have access to anything like that?" Wes looks at Spike excitedly.

"Darla told us stories about Angelus all the time. I'm not sure if she was proud of him or if it was just to scare us into behaving. She said that Angelus slaughtered every man, woman, and child on his Father's land and his family, every one of them that he knew of. Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and even the servants, they all died one by one within a month. He burned everything that was left of the man he was before she turned him. She told me that it wasn't enough for him, he set fire to every building he saw until it looked like the whole of the province was on fire. It lit the night as brightly as the dawn she said. She found it quite lovely or so she said. I doubt they could have found anything like you describe that long after the deed." Spike replies shaking his head. "If it's not his soul they cursed him with though, whose is it?" His eyes are wide open in shock and no small amount of horror.

"There's no way to tell but it makes sense why Angelus is insane now. Two souls and one of them not belonging to that body; it must be in a constant state of war like opposite poles of a magnet repulsing each other. It must be a constant fight for dominance." Wes looks grimaces. "Do you recall what they decided to do Andrew?"

"They're going to remove the curse and the soul that was forced on him, alter it and recast it as the opposite spell without the clause, I think." Andrew answers. He pulls a piece of crisply folded linen parchment from the painstakingly arranged organizer and hands it to Wesley.

"So instead of Angel's soul being the cage for Angelus, it will be Angelus who is caging the soul? Isn't that the same thing? He'd still have two souls." Spike asks confused by the difference.

Wes doesn't answer right away as he breaks the wax seal holding the tri-folded letter closed and opens it to scan the contents. "According to this that's not precisely what they intend to do. They're going to remove the soul the gypsies cursed him with and cleanse it. Their research has led them to theorize that the soul is likely one of their own tribe's and expressly given to him to torment him for all eternity. They're going to mystically dissect it, keep portions of it, unite what remains and return it to the body minus the vengeful aspects and seal it permanently. They believe that it will allow Angelus to retain the humanity he's been granted as Angel but without the conflict. In time he'll learn to integrate his separate halves into a whole, much like you have Will."

"What about the parts of the soul that they're not going to use? What happens to that?" Will asks quietly. "I don't think that Angel is going to agree to any slicing and dicing of his souled up bits Wes."

"Well yes, I propose that we not reveal exactly what the ritual and spell are going to do and how. Surely he'd be happy to just have the struggle he's been going through end? The remnants of the malicious soul will be quietly and respectfully purged, returned to the wellspring from which all are born."

"If that is a flowery way of saying it'll bugger off to where it came from that's good enough for me but I know Angel would never agree to it. Does he have to agree for this to work?" Spike asks flatly.

"Well in theory he has to agree to have it done, yes, but we don't have to disclose all of the details about how we're going to accomplish this." Wes folds the paper carefully and uses the slightly sticky wax seal to secure it closed. He looks at Will and sighs. "This is necessary Will, if Angel is going to persist in his wish to remain in close quarters with us; we need to make sure that he won't be a threat."

"I understand that Wes. I don't want Angelus around Nyla or the family if his soul does a flighter either." Spike calmly delivers. "I just don't think that we can do something like this and not tell him the facts about it. If he ever finds out down the road, he'll hate us and with good cause. I agree that it needs to be done but I don't want to do it by tricking or making the decision for him."

"I'll tell him what the mages have come up with. If he refuses, we'll find another way." Wes promises, understanding his best friend's feelings on the matter. When all is said and done, his loyalty to his Sires Drusilla and Angelus is hard to shake.

While he knows it's unlikely that his charge would have ever actively hunted either of them, he also knows that if it becomes a choice between them or the world he'd do what he has to do. There just wouldn't be anything left of him to save after he did it. William has survived a lot of things in his life, and that's what he's always had, a life not un-life as some like to say, but he wouldn't survive losing the last of his family. One way or another, deliberately or not, he'd have found a way to join them in whatever place waits beyond for them. That's one thing that he's always sworn that he knows, that whenever they do meet their end, they'll be together again. Maybe he's right, perhaps not, but he likes to think that he is and that when his time comes he'll join them too. Even Hell can be a paradise of its own when you have people you care about at your side.

"Andrew, please ask the Mages if they can come up with any alternatives in case Angel refuses this one. How is Miss Burkle doing?" Wesley asks as Spike unashamedly drops his concealing towel and dresses in the clothes that Andrew thoughtfully brought with him. As he hoped, asking Andrew questions helped to keep his overly-eager gaze from locking on the less than clothed, though utterly unashamed of it, Vampire but it would take a far denser man than he to miss the longing looks he still managed.

"Winn said that she was healing well but it will be another week before she can get out of bed for longer than ten minutes at a time. Tara has been staying up at the Manor along with Anya and they've been spending a lot of time with her. They seem to be fast friends. She was asking if she could help Cordelia help you guys and Winn said she could have a computer as long as she could use it in bed. One of Clem's cousins, he brought by a new laptop for her to use." Andrew reports. "She said that she was close to cracking their encryption and thought that she'd be able to get us full plans to the Initiative facility by this afternoon."

Andrew tries to glance nonchalantly at Spike tidily laying out his clothing and smoothing the creases from the folding. He's caught up in the flexing of the muscles under the suede-soft skin; not seeing Wesley's look of tolerant exasperation.

Wes stifles a half-smile and he calmly repeats the question that Andrew isn't paying attention to. "What kind of security does the facility have and is there any chance that we can get people inside?"

"Fred was still working on getting in but she said that it looks very tough." Andrew stands and shyly reaches around Spike and picks up his organizer and bites back a whimper. He was almost close enough to press into Spike's body as he's dressing and listening with half an ear to their conversation.

The powerful and seductive Vampire has slipped into the steel-grey silk boxers and the well-worn and faded blue jeans that he brought for him. The denim is the palest of blue shades, almost washed out to grey and the weave has loosened with wear, especially at the hem, knees, and pockets and the rear is almost thin enough to see through in spots. As he's leaning over to slide his socks and boots on Andrew has an excellent view of the perfection in question. He can almost see the strong lines of the tattoo being partially covered by the waistband of his jeans through the thin fabric and has a momentary urge to sink his teeth into it. He backs off and hurries to Wes with a small squeak of alarm, hurriedly looking through the pages.

"Yes, yes, here it is. She said it will be tight, very tight." He mumbles, forcing his eyes down to read the page and drool over Spike as he stands, pulling a sleeveless black t-shirt over his head. "There appear to be two main access points and both require voice identification as well as a hand and retinal scan to open. That's just to get in. She thinks that there's probably additional and more sophisticated security measures and manned checkpoints once you're past the outer security. She says that if we can get her some examples of the security badges they have, she could probably forge a few that would fool anyone if she can get through their computer encryption."

"It sounds like we'd need someone on the inside for that to work." Spike offers, his voice slightly muffled as he's moved to the bureau where Wes has his hair products neatly lined up. He's bent over at the waist working a light mousse through his hair. "We wouldn't have time to pull a Mission Impossible and high-tech our way in."

When he stands his hair is perfectly tousled into soft peaks and waves, the shorter sides, and back fall into place with a subtle shake of his head. The style is deceptively simple but they know that Spike goes to pains to have it expertly cut by a talented hairstylist friend of Clem's twice a month to keep it neat and under control. He lifts the hem of his t-shirt and slips his piercing through his navel in one easy motion, his brow piercing following just as easily right after it and the earrings in short order after that. How he manages to do all of that without a mirror is a mystery but he makes it look ridiculously easy.

His jeans aren't buttoned yet so he neatly tucks the t-shirt in and manages to do up the button-fly faster than most people can put on their watch. "Hand me the belt from my pants, would you pet?" Spike asks as he puts on his remaining jewellery; left out in neat order on the bureau before he took a bath.

Andrew jumps up and pounces on the pants Spike left folded over the back of one of the chairs and hurriedly works the belt free of the loops and pouts as Wes deftly plucks it from his hands.

"I'm not going to let you deal with Finn just to get us inside Will." A sharp whistle and he launches it at Spike's back, not surprised when his friend twists gracefully and snatches it out of the air before it can hit him.

"I think that the less I have to do with that Tosser the better." Spike agrees; threading the belt through the belt loops on his jeans as he walks toward them. He closes the clasp, making sure that it is centered over the top button of his jeans as he stops at the bench by the bed and sweeps up a pale grey-blue silk shirt. The colour is only a few shades darker than the faded blue of the jeans he's wearing and it compliments his colouring well, deepening the already fathomless blue of his eyes even further.

He sits on the arm of one of the chairs as he neatly rolls back the arms of the shirt up to the elbow. He doesn't bother to button the shirt but leaves it hanging open to frame the black of the t-shirt and the belt, that match the dark inkiness of his boots. "I agree that Finn should be kept out of this as much as possible but some of his commando play-pen mates may be of use to us." Spike suggests, looking cool and quietly deadly despite the unaccustomedly early rising hour.

As per his instructions last night, Wes notices that he's left off the cross he's in the habit of wearing since he discovered he was no longer affected by them. To him there is no overt religious significance to it; it's just another weapon that can exploit the weaknesses of the Demons he hunts. The Dog Tags however are solidly in place; he didn't even ask Spike to not wear those. Since he found them in the rubble of the lab that ended the existences of Penn and Lawson, he's never taken off the marks of cruelty that were worn by his brothers. He would never have asked him to but he nods in silent praise as Spike tenderly tucks the betraying tags beneath his t-shirt to conceal them from curious eyes.

"That could be as dangerous as dealing with Finn. We don't know a lot about the Initiative and who works for them yet." Wes points out, looking worried and uneasy.

"Rona was going to talk to the minions we've had watching the Hellmouth and see if they had anything helpful to report. They may have learned something that we can use." Spike replies. "I asked her to have a few of the weaker minions to watch Finn in particular, see who he hangs out with, where he's living, and all of that."

"That's good thinking Will. We should get down and join the others for breakfast." Wes decides standing. He heads for the door, seeing Spike getting up to follow him but Andrew makes no move to follow them, instead neatly folding Spike's used clothes from the precious night. "Are you coming down to have breakfast with us Andrew?"

"I'll be there in a few minutes. I'll just tidy up here and get these things into the laundry pile since I have some things to drop off there today." Andrew answers with a smile.

"We'll make sure that everyone waits for you Pet." Spike replies as he and Wes resume their walk from the room, and he quietly closes the door behind them.

"You know he's going to sniff your clothes again." Wes states with a perky smile and an amused chuckle as he teases his friend as they start down the staircase to the lower floor.

"I wouldn't worry Percy, he'll sniff yours too so they won't feel left out." Spike quips, taking the last ten steps in an easy leap, his landing surprisingly quiet despite the boots he's wearing.

Wes sputters speechless as his cheeks deepen in hot flushes of red as he helplessly tries to absorb the fact that Andrew sniffs his clothes after he's worn them too. "That's... I'm going back upstairs!" He announces turning on his heel, intending to march back up to his suite and put an end to this covert sniffing business!

"Calm down Wes. It's a compliment." Spike jogs back up to catch his hand and tows him back down the rest of the steps before letting him go. "He's a Were, Pet; they need the physical reminders of home and pack. He takes comfort from our scents, makes him feel safe. Poor cub must be nervous as hell being this close to the Initiative again."

"Oh yes, I should have realized." Wes replies gruffly, settling his eyeglasses higher on the bridge of his nose nervously. "I'll ask Phaedra to take him home after breakfast." He decides looking sheepish.

Spike nods as he pushes open the twin doors of the dining room and steps through, Rona instantly materializing at his side with a quiet greeting, beating Angel by mere seconds.

Seeing his adopted Brother neatly hemmed in by a nervously hovering Sire and an eager; though admittedly very strong; Fledgling eager to impress him, Wes dodges around them with a roll of his eyes. Gunn and Doyle are already seated at the table, sipping from large mugs of what he assumes to be coffee. A couple of the youngest minions assigned to watch Sunnydale are milling about looking eager to be of help and a steaming hot mug of coffee is being set in front of him before he's fully seated. He smiles his thanks and nods his approval at the male Vampire.

"What would you like from the kitchen Hunter?" The minion asks politely, using the title of respect given to him by the Order. "Sly brought the makings for several things, omelettes with the fixings, a variety of meats, waffles, pancakes, or a variety of muffins and pastries." He quietly imparts and Wes smiles over the cute nickname that the minions seem to have adopted using when talking about Andrew. "One of the younger servants was a Chef; she's gladly volunteered to handle any meal preparations during our stay."

It seems that the head of the Order's vibrant personality has begun to filter down to every member; including his particular quirk of finding a nickname for everyone he knows. "I believe I'll have an omelette, Chef's choice as to what kind, and a slice of Ham if we have it, and a muffin, Blueberry or Banana Walnut if we have it." Wes decides, feeling very hungry and knowing that he's probably still slightly anaemic from feeding Will. He'll need to have a good meal to adjust his body chemistry.

Spike smiles warmly at the potential Slayer turned Vampire and his hand on her cheek is gentle and welcoming. "What have you found out about Finn, Pretty?" He asks Rona as he drops his hand and nimbly extricates himself from between the press of bodies holding him in place.

He takes the seat next to Wes at the head of the table and Angel quickly darts forward to claim the chair to his right. Rona's pace is more sedate and she happily takes the chair next to Wes with a warm smile and a greeting.

Andrew, followed by Phaedra and Sam, slips into the room silently. The women stopping to press kisses to Spike's cheeks as they pass, Phaedra moving to sit next to Angel and Sam and Andrew round the table to sit next to Rona.

The breakfast requests are relayed to the kitchen by the minions with their accustomed efficiency. Clem and Andrew have learned a lot about managing a large household from Phaedra as they help her with her duties as the Steward of the Aurelius Chantry's home manor. The minions and other servants have been pulled into a cohesive unit and it reflects proudly on the trio.

Rona details what she's learned from questioning the spies they've had watching the Hellmouth and the Initiative. "Finn doesn't have many friends as we've been able to souse out. He seems to spend the majority of his time with the Slayer and not much of it interacting with his fellow soldiers. There are two exceptions." Rona consults her notes. "Forrest Gates and Graham Miller, two of his usual patrol squad."

"What have you found out about them?" Wesley asks, taking a bite of the thick fluffy omelette.

"Gates has the same very sketchy background as Finn and it is likely just as constructed as his. The likelihood of his being grown in a test tube is as possible as his having an actual family. We can't know for sure but since he has virtually the same basic details as Finn; aside from the specifics of place and dates; it's most likely a well constructed façade identity. Right down to their names; I mean come on Riley Finn and Forrest Gates? Obviously they're made up, they're just too average but kind of cutesy to be real. They've gone to a lot of trouble to make them look legitimate but no one has had such a perfectly average life since 'Leave it to Beaver' was on the air." Rona scoffs in disgust. "It's going to be a miracle if we can discover the truth about either Finn or Gates. He's violent to the point of being vicious and cruel and he inflicts pain without rhyme or reason."

"What about the other one, Miller? Is he made up too?" Angel asks, reaching out and sliding his hand under Spike's, threading their fingers together, as he sips his breakfast.

"Miller is an exception that had us puzzled for a while. As nearly as we can discover his background is genuine and authentic and it checks out and his relatives are all cross-referenced. It appears that he was recruited by the Initiative just after he left a short and unremarkable tour in the military. His Father is a U.S. Senator so it's possible that he was coerced into joining to use that connection. Of the three Miller seems to be the most level-headed but all of them have the same pathological fanaticism for following the orders of their superiors." Rona reports as she consults her notes. "He exhibits mood swings, at times quite violent and at other times it's more like a deep depression. He's been seen to regularly take pills and one of the minions was close enough to see part of a label and it looks like he's on anti-depressant medication which tracks with our observations."

"What are your conclusions Pretty?" Spike asks, making a motion for her continue with his free hand.

"Finn and Gates are too dangerous for interrogation. Miller is the best chance we've got to gather some intelligence but he may be the most difficult of the three to isolate." Rona states, closing her notebook. "He's usually with Gates when he's not on duty and unlike Finn and Gates he's quartered inside the Initiative facility and not the fraternity that houses most of their soldiers."

"If we can't get in to get him, we'll have to give him a reason to come out to us." Wes states in a cool tone that doesn't bode well for the soldier once he's in their hands.

"Rona, you'll return to the Manor with Andrew and visit that Sire of yours. Give the information that you have on Miller's relatives to Aaron. Have him arrange for an accident, serious but not fatal, enough to give him a reason to leave the Hellmouth and see his family. Make sure that he doesn't reach them and bring him to me. I don't want him turned or severely injured just taken and brought to me. One of the Shape-changers can take his place in case the Initiative maintains their surveillance on him. By the time they figure out that he's not their soldier it won't matter, they'll all be dead or dying anyway." Spike decides with a fierce gleam in his eyes. "When he's provided what assistance he can, ask the Healers to examine him. If he's being influenced like the Slayer, see if he can be helped."

"And if he can't be helped or he's doing it all willingly?" Angel asks, looking apprehensive.

"If he's serving the Initiative willingly then he goes before the Assembly to be judged and sentenced for his crime against the Demon Nations. If there's nothing that can be done to undo the damage, give him to one of the Childer and turn him. If he can't be redeemed in life maybe he can in death." Wes announces with icy calm.

"Are there others that may not be helping the Initiative willingly?" Angel asks thoughtfully.

"We've assembled a list of the soldiers that seem to have genuine profiles and the hackers you have working on the system may flag more." Rona reveals tapping her hand on her trusty notebook.

"They're probably there as a smokescreen. Throw in a few genuine soldiers and then the ones with the fake backgrounds don't stick out so much." Gunn offers hoping to be helpful.

Spike glances at Angel and sighs. "Arrange for the minions to follow them and work up a profile of their daily and nightly routines. If we can we'll secure them first before the main assault on the facility and have them confined until the Healers can examine them. If they can be helped than we will, otherwise it's Miller's fate for all."

Phaedra and Rona smile, each of them makes the appropriate arrangements in their minds to set in motion later. At a nod from Spike Andrew opens his notebook and briefs them on Fred's progress hacking the computer system.

"It sounds like we're planning to seize a fortress." Angel notes in alarm. "I take it back a fortress would be easier than this." He adds in disgust.

"What's brewing in your head Will?" Wesley asks perceptively, seeing the gleam of inspiration brightening the blue eyes into diamond-hard Sapphire fire.

"We just use the same tactics as we're going to use with Miller. If we can't get in, we'll have to give them a reason to come out. All the security in the world isn't going to stop some of the Demons we can send in. The rock under the facility would be like clay to the Aristae once their rivers of fire are close enough to sustain the temperatures they need to live. If they came up from below they'd drive them ahead of them like Ranchers moving cattle." Spike suggests.

"If we could channel them into specific areas, closing off exits or passages and leaving only some of them open we could horde them into areas we control." Angel offers. "It's possible that we could take them out without endangering any civilian lives. They may not even know what's going on right under their noses."

"That could be a good idea. If we have them confined, we've also got the Demons assembling to fight them secured in given areas. Some of those species are difficult to control at best and I imagine getting them here is a lot easier than getting them to go back again." Wes points out.

"I've gotten assurances that this operation will be run by the Aurelius Order without exception. Master D'Hoffrun and the Vengeance Demons under his command are prepared to teleport anyone that breaks the treaty back to their home territories. I agree it would be best if they were where we can keep an eye on them. I'm sure one of the wankers will take the chance to try and claim the Hellmouth." Spike agrees with a nod.

Spike flicks his gaze to Andrew who is taking a copious amount of notes. "When you return to the Manor, brief everyone and get them up to speed. Tell Aaron that I want him here within three days and with Miller and I'm taking it out of his hide if the Initiative catches on that we have him." He orders but a smile softens the commanding tone. "Ask Osanna to stay behind. I want her to get started on the arrangements for a meeting of the Order to discuss reinstating Angelus to his position as the Master of Aurelius. I want a full call to the council, every servitor, servant, minion, Childe, and Master in attendance. If we're doing this than we're doing it as an Order should, with all members in support. Make sure that she tells one and all that failure to appear will be considered a personal slight."

Andrew nods, not looking up from his furious scribbling. He knows that he's not strong enough yet to be part of the fighting. He hasn't been training with Spike, Wes, and Oz for very long and he still has a lot to learn but he'll do everything he can do to make sure that the people that took his Brother from him pay for it. He may have had a slight case of not-living but he was still his Brother and he'll have blood for his pain.

"Anyone else have any other news to discuss?" Spike asks, looking around the table.

"A perfectly odious man has been calling every hour since six this morning demanding to speak to Hunter. It was being routed from your cell phone through from our secure relay to the house phone. It's bouncing around so many satellite networks that he'll never find the termination point on the phone. We tried to be polite to him and say you were unavailable but after the sixth call we tried being not so polite. It didn't work." One of the minions confesses with a sheepish expression that still manages to convey his disgust. "He'll be calling again shortly." He points out with a grimacing nod at the clock hanging on the wall.

Spike looks and sees that it's almost a quarter until five in the afternoon. "What's the weather man say?" He asks curiously.

"It's been raining for most of the day, stopped about an hour ago but it's supposed to come back again by tonight. Cloud cover is pretty solid, so it's probably safe to move around outside. It's not long until full dark anyway, not at this time of the year." One of the youngest of the minions provides.

"We'll head over to that Shoppe of his, when he calls back tell him we're on our way there and to let up with the bugging us to death at all hours. Recall the Order and get everyone under cover for tonight. I expect Riley's bosses will have the soldier boys out trolling for Demons especially hard since the wankers know we're somewhere around. Make sure everyone is fed and tucked up tight in their lairs until further notice. If they can't find any trace of us tonight, they'll probably assume we're in a neighbouring town and may move the bulk of their patrols there. That will make it easier for us to move around town." Spike orders, seeing that everyone has finished their breakfast. "Phaedra, we'll see you tonight? I don't want these bastards getting too close of a look at you."

The regal Hamadryad inclines her head in respectful obedience. "I would like to meet with my Brethren that have been watching from the woods. They may have information that will be of help."

"That's a great idea Pet, but make sure they stay undercover too." Spike interjects. "Make sure that the word goes out that tonight is bad night to be out." He tells the minions as he stands and pushes his chair in, the others standing and following his example. "Let me get my coat, I'll be back." He stalks silently from the room and Angel watches in amazement as the Vampires show their obeisance by lowering their eyes and bowing formally.

Phaedra stands and quietly leads Rona and Andrew out of the room.

"I'll go start the car warming up." Doyle announces as he stands and turns in the opposite direction and silently slips through the door that leads into the kitchen.

Angel watches him leave, noting absentmindedly that Gunn and Sam slip into the kitchen through the other door; probably intending to follow Doyle through to the garage and warm up his truck. He feels Wes step up to his shoulder but he doesn't turn to look at him, gazing after his Childe.

"They didn't vote him in as the Master of the Order because he is your Childe but because he can handle the responsibility; even if he didn't want to. They knew that he would accept and pull them kicking and screaming into the modern age and make life better for them all. No more crypts or abandoned warehouses or buildings, starving, beatings, or dying. Every member of the Order from the lowest to the highest is provided for according to their station. The lowest minion, servant, has a warm and safe place to make their lair, food, and funds provided to them for their service." Wesley quietly explains, the pride in his voice is as loud as a shout.

"You were right. I only know the boy he used to be. I don't know the man that he is. Tell me." Angel's voice is soft but threaded with steel.

"He's your Childe Angel, as much by blood as Drusilla was. Don't you know anything about him?"

"I've spent a hundred something years running from everything about him and my Childer Wesley. I didn't even know that Spike was the last until I was told." Angel admits, his eyes lowering in shame. "I'd hear things from time to time but I'm hardly at the top of any Demon gossip lists am I? They see me coming and most of them run the other way or try to kill me. I don't get too much in-between."

Wesley is barely able to keep the pity from showing on his face and decides to just answer the question for once. "He's a Demon of no small repute, so much so that even as a Hunter of his kind, he is still respected and sought out. His loyalty and honour for giving his word and keeping it are dare I say legendary. He's blunt, even harsh, but fair and he says what he thinks without censure or censor and in doing it he usually cuts through all the lies we like to hide behind. Since we've been on our mission he's been asked to mediate four disputes between warring Clans because they believe that his judgement will be fair if not always in their favour. When a Demon goes rogue against their own kind or threatens the well-being of all, they call him now Angel, ask him to protect them all from discovery."

Wes turns and after a moment's hesitation his hand lowers to rest on Angel's shoulder in companionable support. "They call him 'Shiv' amongst themselves, though no one dares to call him anything but William or Spike in his presence. It's a variation of the name Shiva. Shiva is the Hindu God of Death, Destruction, the Shedding of Old Habits and the embodiment of the cycles of death and rebirth. Shiva's forms are multitude and so are the facets that she; and he; represents but what they all have in common is change and transition. He is death to some but he is more to others, he's growth and evolution, something they all want and need if they're going to survive in a world getting smaller with every passing day. He is your Childe, Angelus, your legacy and he has done you and the Order a great credit."

"He's all of those things?" Angel's voice is both wonderment and sorrow. How could he have denied the Childe he created? How could he not have known that there was so much more than what he could see? The Watchers fool themselves into thinking that they're experts in everything Vampire and Demon related but they couldn't tell when they were being hand-fed only what they wanted them to know. He's been as blind as they have.

"It will take a thousand years for anyone to sum up Will. He's just not someone that's ever going to fit in a sentence or a paragraph." Wes sums up fondly. "You can be proud of him. I am."

"Thanks Wes." Angel says and means it. "Are you and Will going to take the bikes or come with us in the SUV?"

"I think it'd be best if we drove in together. Gunn will no doubt be bringing his precious truck if we need to split up. Until then I think it is best that we remain close to Sam and together."

Angel looks surprised. "I thought she handled seeing him again alright. If he'd done something like that to me, I think I'd have wanted to kill the Bastard." Angel admits. "I do want to kill the Bastard." He adds in a low mumble.

"Phaedra had to sedate her and chain her to the bedstead." Wes says flatly. "Being this close to Finn is ripping what's left of her mind into shreds that we'll never be able to put back together."

"Maybe we should send her back to the Manor before it gets worse." Angel offers with an alarmed expression on his face.

"This was inevitable Angel. If we left her she'd have fought her way here. Nothing is going to keep her from going after Finn, including all of us. She rejected her own daughter because she couldn't face that she was born of Finn's violence. All that she's lived for is to get her hands around Finn's neck and squeeze. I think it's the only reason that she hasn't died already." Wes admits with a sad sigh. "She's not going to let go until she takes Finn with her."

"How can she leave her daughter that way? She's beautiful, perfect." Angel denies shaking his head. "After we deal with Finn she'll be able to move on." He states hopefully. "She can heal then."

"There are some wounds that just can't be healed and some cages that can never be opened. Phaedra's people are renowned for their healers and they can do nothing more for her." Wes counters.

"Sam has no intention of leaving the Hellmouth." Spike slips back into the room, shrugging into a slightly longer ankle length duster. The leather is the darkest of black shades and gleams faintly even in the modest light of the dining room. There are two jackets folded over his arm and Angel recognizes one as his own just before its handed to him.

Angel's nose twitches faintly and he can detect the rich scent of almonds or some other nut nearby. It takes him a moment to realize that it's coming from Spike. Obviously it's the scent of the oil used to keep the leather soft, supple, clean, and in good condition. The scent is clinging strongly to his jacket, which he realizes suddenly has been cleaned and well conditioned with the oil like Spike's is. The hip-length coat settles comfortably around him and he subtly strokes the petal-soft leather.

"What do you mean she isn't going to leave?" Wes asks as he slips into his leather bomber jacket.

"She told me that if she survives killing Finn she isn't going to leave Sunnydale. She's going to stay here permanently; either on the ground or in it." Spike reveals; his expression is melancholy with a hint of pride; "She may not be a Slayer but she's not human either and she's feeling the drive to hunt."

"Are you saying that she's become a Slayer?" Wes questions looking alarmed.

"I don't think that she's become one as much as she's started to evolve into one. The Initiative interfered in the natural process but she's not going to make it for long without us. I think that's the point." Spike admits sadly.

"She's going to stay knowing that it's going to kill her sooner rather than later?" Angel looks alarmed and saddened. "What about her child?"

"She's too stubborn to deliberately take her own life. There's a spark in her that just won't go out and she's tried to make it go out before. When we first found her; she picked fights with Will constantly trying to goad him into killing her. In time she gave up trying to incite him, knew that he wasn't going to give her the end that she wanted and she became reckless. She took too many stupid and pointless risks and Will kept getting hurt trying to get her out of trouble constantly. Finally we had to stop taking her with us and confine her to the lands around the Manor with Phaedra's help. She's too dangerous to be let loose, her psychosis is too unstable." Wes realizes solemnly. "If she stays here, sooner or later she's going to meet a Demon that's going to give her what Will's denied her; an end to it all."

"You mean she has a death wish." Angel concludes looking pained.

"Every Slayer does eventually." Spike points out. "Your little girl will too and when she does it will be all over for her too. As for Nyla, she belongs to us. She always has. Sam has Wes listed as the Father and not Finn so legally she's his daughter and Finn can't touch her."

"Well what if he finds out and demands to have a DNA test?" Angel counters.

"Hard to do when you're dead." Spike replies flatly, heading for the kitchen door.

"Phaedra and Winn covered that eventuality Angel. I'm not sure how they did it, some charm, spell, or physical change but if they test her, they'll find that I am Nyla's biological Father not Finn." Wes quietly explains as he and Angel follow Spike through the kitchen to the garage door where Doyle and Sam are waiting in the idling SUV.

"It was necessary to make sure that Finn couldn't take her from us." Spike explains as he leads the way to the truck, sliding into the back as Doyle and Sam are sitting in the front seat.

Angel and Wes separate and climb into the back seat from opposite sides, bracketing Spike in the middle. Sam gestures gracefully in sweeping motions and a fluttering of her fingers.

"She's saying you can move out Mate." Spike quietly translates. "It's two blocks and then a right for another four blocks and the Shoppe is on the right side of the street at the end."

Doyle smiles warmly at Sam. "Thank you for the directions Lass."

Spike and Wes share a look of approval and Angel smiles with pride at Doyle's garnering their approval.

"Are you two going to be okay back there?" Doyle asks the Vampires as he looks back over his shoulder.

Spike nods. "There's a special film sandwiched between the layers of glass that will keep us from getting toasty. Wes backed it up with his wizardry so we're safe as houses back here Mate." Spike's head tilts to the right slightly and tips towards the door that leads into the house where he can hear the sound of a phone ringing. He flips his wrist over and glances at his watch and sighs. "We'd better move out before the Slayer's Watcher bursts an organ." He prompts.

Doyle nods and turns around and taps a button in the overhead console between the seats and the garage door opens silently. The large vehicle moves out smoothly, heading down the drive where Gunn is waiting in his idling truck to follow them.

Chapter Twenty-One

It doesn't take them very long to reach their destination and in fact it takes them longer to find a place to park. After a few squabbles they finally manage to find a compromise that works for all of them and they park at a crowded lot. The nearby Wal-Mart and theatre complex will ensure that there will be people milling about for a good part of the evening. Even if the Initiative could somehow spot their cars amidst the others, it would be too crowded to attempt to do anything to them. The last thing they'd want to do is draw attention to their activities and possibly have the police called for skulking around.

Angel takes Spike's hand and leads them through the smaller side streets and alleys to the back entrance of the store Giles has set up his shop in. Wes moves forward and a simple chant and a few gestures the alarm is disabled and he nods to Sam who moves forward and deftly picks the lock. They file through the doorway silently.

A wall on one side and floor to ceiling shelving, and a shirt hallway on the other side hide their movements well enough and their arrival goes unnoticed. Angel hears voices and easily identifies Giles, Buffy, Willow, and Xander's voices interspersed with two voices he doesn't recognize, probably customers. He motions for them to wait and he's not surprised to see Spike pad silently down the short hallway.

He returns in a few minutes and Angel waves at him to join him and Spike stalks over silently and lets his Sire pull him in close. "There's an office, a storeroom, and a small bathroom. There's a stairway at the other end that leads down to a training room and another storeroom. There's a heavy grate under a section of the floor; probably a sewer access but it looks rusted over." He reports under his breath and Angel nods and pats his shoulder approvingly.

When the bell over the door signals the departure of the second customer, Angel starts forward but his steps falter when he overhears a comment from Buffy.

"Where the hell is Angel Giles? I thought you told them to be here by four." Buffy's voice is bitter and impatient.

"I'm hardly in a position to demand anything of Angel Buffy. They'll get here when they get here." Giles chides. "Perhaps they had other matters to attend to."

"What's more important than me?" Buffy asks childishly. "I mean us, what's more important than talking about what to do about Riley and the Initiative?" She adds in a rush, her words jumbling and tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. "It's probably that damn Spike's fault. If he wasn't hanging all over Angel, he'd have been here to check on me!"

"It looked like Angel was doing a lot of hanging on of himself Buff." Xander snorts.

"Spike's probably done something to him." Buffy denies huffily. "We need a spell that will make Angel hate Spike again."

Having heard enough Angel bites back a growl and wraps his arm around Spike's shoulders and steps boldly into the front area of the shop.

Giles jumps in place at their sudden appearance. "Oh I say! Where did you come from?"

Buffy pushes back the chair from the table she's been sitting at as she flips idly through a fashion magazine and jogs over. "Hi Angel, I've missed you!" She chirps perkily as she tries to throw her arms around his waist only to be thwarted by his close proximity to Spike. An attempt to push Spike aside is halted by a menacing growl that sends her stumbling back away from the pair.

"Don't touch him!" Angel advises in a deadly serious tone that leaves no room for argument and Buffy flounces back to her chair in a huff. "What is so important that you've been bothering our servants all day?" Angel demands, steering Spike to the stairs to the upper level and gently urging him down onto the steps.

He settles on a step a few below the one Spike is sprawled comfortably on and braces his legs widely and leans his elbows on them. He leans back against Spike's legs and smiles happily as Spike curls into his back and drapes an arm over his chest from behind, his fingertips worrying a button on his shirt just like he knew that he would. Gunn shakes his head over their antics and uses a chair for a boost and clambers over the railing and lands with a heavy thump on the landing of the level behind Spike. A small reading table is pushed into the corner and Gunn grabs a chair and flipping it around he sits down so that his forearms can rile on the backrest of the chair. Doyle doesn't hesitate to join him by following his example and climbing over the railing too.

Wes sighs and shakes his head and taking Sam's hand he leads the way to the stairs and they climb nimbly over Angel and squeeze passed Spike. Sam manages to wedge herself on the step next to Spike as Wes releases her to take a seat at the small table with Gunn and Doyle.

"You have servants?" Xander snorts his amusement.

"We've only brought a small number. We didn't foresee any reason to bring more than fifteen with us. The others will attend to matters at the Chantry." Spike states smoothly, ignoring Xander's disbelieving tone and choosing to just answer the question.

"Wait, you only brought fifteen? Just how many do you have?!" Xander exclaims in surprise.

"What is a Chantry?" Willow asks looking intrigued.

"A Chantry is sort of like the City Hall of a Vampire Order. I read that in one of Giles' books." Xander supplies helpfully.

"It may be more accurate to call it an Embassy as an Order will generally have more than one." Giles corrects. "There is usually a Major Chantry; that being the primary residence of the Master of the Order. There are however smaller functionary buildings in other places deemed to be of value to the particular Order that can claim it and hold on to the territory. It is where the members of the Order residing in the area meet."

"What; like an Elk's Lodge?" Xander jokes with a grin, shivering under the weight of the disgusted stares Angel and Spike team up to beam his way.

"Never make that comparison again." Angel advises in an icy tone.

"The number of our attendants varies as they volunteer for the most but there are usually around two hundred or so. Only a few minions are sired into the position of service but there are some that have been descended from faithful retainers that still choose to serve as their progenitor did." Spike offers.

"Really, that's fascinating." Giles adjusts his glasses and tries to look uninterested but they all know that as soon as they leave that he will be tripping over his feet in the rush to write it all down.

Spike smiles coolly. "Wes wrote quite a fascinating report on the subject. The members of the Order have become quite fond of him and gladly answer his questions on varied topics." He provides, almost chuckling as he can feel Angel's shoulders trembling with the effort to hold back his laughter as he neatly derails Giles with just two sentences.

Wes steps in smoothly; hiding his own amusement at Spike's clever cruelty. "My reports will have to wait for a time, I'm afraid." He interjects suavely.

"That's a shame, finding it difficult? I could be persuaded to assist you." Giles offers predictably.

"Not at all my good chap, I have the wealth of ages at my disposal but the Council has recently requested that I tackle a much larger project. Given my discoveries, with the Aurelians cooperation, much of what we have taken as gospel in fact mere conjecture. It will be the work of a lifetime to correct the blaring discrepancies in our own literary assumptions. They've thoughtfully provided a generous yearly stipend for me to hire a couple of research assistants to help me go through the Council's libraries and the chronicled Watchers Diaries." Wes answers honestly; forcing his expression into one of neutral academia instead of unholy glee at winning such a rare honour.

"A research grant, they've given you a research grant?" Giles chokes out. He can feel the veins throbbing in his temples. He has been trying, unsuccessfully for nearly a year, to convince the Council to finance his research into a study of the early mental development of a young Slayer; namely his own charge Buffy Summers. As one of the strongest Slayers in years, he was sure that they would grant his request for that reason alone. This unfathomable refusal to acknowledge his position as the Senior Watcher in the field has confounded him endlessly.

"I wouldn't call it a research grant per se so much as a staff allowance." Wes disagrees. "I don't need to have my research funded. The yearly salary that I'm given by the Order is more than generous for my personal needs but the Council wouldn't hear of me paying for my own assistants."

"You're worth the two Pet. You've done a smashing job as our steward." Spike praises.

"You only get two thousand? What a Loser!" Buffy snickers hatefully not liking the pinched look on her Watcher's face in the least or the man that has put it there.

"Are you mentally handicapped; a few too many blows to the head perhaps?" Spike's strike is swift and merciless. "It's two hundred thousand a year, not two thousand a year. We employ him for his knowledge and experience and we have decided on a living wage that is comparable to his skills. He wouldn't accept our first offer so we compromised."

"Three hundred thousand a year was too much since you provide my room, board, car, and an expense account as part of my contract." Wes mutters embarrassed.

It is still shocking to him that he is paid; and such an obscene amount of money too; for doing something that fascinating and that he loves to do. Spike has shown him the accountancy reports for the Order and he knows that it is less than two percent of their yearly earnings so he gave in gracefully.

"You're worth it Wes. So are my people." Angel replies, grateful for Rona's forethought to arrange similar contracts for Gunn, Doyle, Fred, and Cordelia; though at slightly smaller wages. Since Wesley holds the higher position in the Order. The Order expected that he generously paid more than someone of lower rank would.

"Enough of this vulgar discussion of funds, that's not why I sent for you." Giles snaps waspishly.

"You didn't send for us." Angel, Spike, and Wes all snap in unison.

"We came because we were curious about what you wanted and nothing more." Angel adds.

"What... I... wanted?" Giles stutters incredulously. "What I wanted was to discuss the plans for handling the Initiative and making all of them pay for what they tried to do to Buffy!"

"You mean what they did do to your Slayer." Spike points out calmly. "What they've been doing to her for months right under your nose. What they'd still be doing to her if we hadn't put a stop to it."

Willow opens her mouth to argue and Xander slams the book that he has been thumbing through absently since he arrived closed violently. "Don't argue about it Willow, he's right! They' have been messing with Buffy for months now and we never stopped to wonder why she was acting all 'Psycho' on us! We let her send us away and treat us like we were helpless and we never fought about it because we believed it." He hisses angrily. "I DON'T BELIEVE IT ANYMORE! I have a right to be heard when I have an opinion or suggestion, to fight, and to make my own choices. I may not be the Slayer with some sacred 'destiny' but I have two hands that are good for more than playing 'Go-For' and bait!"

"Where is this coming from Xander?" Willow asks with a confused expression. "You know it's our job to help Buffy...."

"Pardon me Miss Rosenberg but the only one here that has the job to help the Slayer is Mister Giles..." Wesley interrupts to state. "Well before he was dismissed from his duties and the Slayer severed her ties with the Council that is. You can choose to help your friend but it is not and it has never been your 'job'. Certain individuals should keep that in mind in the future. Unlike the Slayer and her Watcher, you can choose to live a normal life as easily as walking through a door and not coming back."

Giles slaps his hand on the counter to get everyone's attention. "We really must stop this pointless bickering. We have other matters to deal with. Xander do refrain from brutalizing books that are far older than you're likely to be if I see you do that ever again."

"Lighten up on the boy, Watcher. That reproduction is so new that I can smell the Xerox ink from here besides I happen to know where the original of that volume happens to reside." Spike's eyes narrow in silent warning. "It's not here; it's at home in our library." He adds unnecessarily but it felt good to say it. "As for those other matters you have to deal with, what would they be?"

"We've been trying to come up with a way to get a few of us inside so that we can knock out their security. Willow's been working on some cloaking spells...." Giles starts to explain.

"Hold it Watcher." Spike throws his hand up and shakes his head. "Magic of any kind is going to be a bad idea. Did you forget what they did to Rayne? There is no way of telling what wards they forced him to cast while they were torturing him under the guise of studying him. You start throwing magic around now and this craps, you and redhead are going to be the next ones with your organs in their specimen jars. The less they know about what you can do and the better off that you are." He advises.

"Spike is right. They know more than is healthy as it is; we do not need to supply them with more reasons to give up the pretence of being your allies." Angel agrees.

Buffy pales and then flushes an alarmingly bright shade of red. "Riley knows that Willow is a witch and that Xander's been possessed like twice and has a wacky Demon-Magnet thing going on...." She speaks in a rush as though speed is the only way to get the words out before she chokes on them.

Willow gives her a sympathetic look. "It's not your fault Buffy. We shouldn't hold anything that you did while he was feeding you those wonky "supplements' against you. It wasn't your fault."

"I...." Buffy looks ill and ashamed but continues on. "I told him about that before he started giving me those pills." She admits guiltily. "I'm so sorry you guys. I thought that he was a nice guy that liked me. I trusted him and look what a mess I've gotten us into."

"Is there anything else that you've told him that you haven't told us about? Your credit card numbers, social security number, bank pin?" Giles groans and yanks his glasses off to rub his eyes.

"She's a child so don't blame her for wanting a life." Angel snaps; irritated that Giles is ignoring his own culpability in everything that's happened.

"You're the adult in this dog and pony show and it seems to me that if anyone should have been suspicious it should have been you." Doyle doesn't know the Slayer but supporting Angel is at least worth the effort. "Until we clued you in, you seemed to approve of your Slayer working with the Initiative's soldier boys. Just how deeply did you look into what was going on before you gleefully washed your hands of it Watcher? You'd still be living with your head in the sand if we hadn't clued you in. Well until the Initiative finally tired of playing nice and decided to dissect your brain Boyo."

"You remember Watcher; like they did to Ethan Rayne after you cheerfully turned him over to them. Maybe you'll be luckier than he was and they won't do it until you're dead instead of when you're still alive and screaming in agony on their examination tables." Spike jabs mercilessly.

"That's way harsh!" Willow snaps waspishly. "Giles didn't know that they were going to do that!"

Spike turns his head slowly until his eyes can lock on the redhead's green eyes. It doesn't take very long before those green sparks die and those flashing eyes dull as they lower. "He didn't know what they were going to do but ask yourself this Red. Just what could a government agency in this godforsaken backwards country of yours want with a Chaos Mage? Did you even stop to think it through Watcher? You thought that they would do what? Lock him up for a few years, slap him on the wrist, and send him back to jolly ole London Towne with his tail between his legs like a good little whipped puppy?"

"I thought that they'd deport him and make sure that he couldn't get back in the country." Giles mutters rubbing his eyes harder.

"That's a job for the Immigration bozos if anyone; not a secret military project looking to study anyone they don't consider 'normal'. If that's what you wanted, you could have done that with one phone call to the proper authorities but you know that excuse is just a load of stink stuck to your shoes. The man was a Chaos Wizard, he could have come or gone as he pleased and never see the inside of a plane or an immigration office. Want to spin us another stinker?" Spike stands fluidly and easily vaults over the railing and landing silently on his feet.

Angel is surprised to feel Sam lean against his back and lightly drape an arm across his collarbone from behind. Since he's been trying to repair his relationship with Spike, she's kept her distance even if she hasn't tried to hide her obvious distrust and transitory hostility towards him. Spike and Wes tried to explain that it was an instinctive reaction to a strange Demon that had her acting up but he had begun to believe that it was for a far more personal reason.

A late morning heart-to-heart with his Childe revealed that Spike's interest in Sam was purely platonic and that of an older and protective sibling to the shattered young woman. He wonders if he knows that Sam's feelings run deeper and hotter than the love of a sibling. She's in love with him but it's not going to get her anywhere. He's not going to let Spike get away from him again.

Angel turns his attention back to the walking passion that is his Childe as he moves slowly towards Giles, talking in the low husky whiskey purr that still sends shivers down his spine.

"You haven't been honest with the children Watcher. Do they know that the man you gave up to those American Nazis used to be your Lover? That he still was even as you had him hauled off to his death at their hands?" Spike presses his palms to the counter and leans over until his face is only millimetres away from Giles and takes a slow and deliberately deep inhalation throw his nose before he leans back, his fingers tips tapping against the countertop.

"They never allowed him to bathe after they had him in custody and never bothered once he was an empty husk of flesh being kept alive only by machines. When Wes and I found his remains, I could smell the scent of another man on him. It was deep, ground into the pores of his skin; it clung as tightly as the last leaf of summer in a winter wind. That doesn't happen overnight or even over months but through years of touching and being in another person's personal space almost constantly." Spike voice deepens to a sibilant growling cadence as his eyes sparkle faintly, the amber sparks betraying the presence of the Demon coiling just below the visible surface. "Was he inconvenient Watcher? Did you just want him out of the way before the children found out just what a bad man you were to be sleeping with the enemy?"

Spike abruptly leans back, rolling his hips in a swivel and turning until his back is against the counter and his shoulders arch as he slowly undulates his body away from the unyielding surface and into a lazy stroll around the store. He feels their eyes on him and the Seducer in him howls in satisfaction.

"You're not a nice man Watcher. You may be doing good things by your estimation in guiding your young Slayer but you are not a good man. That's what you were trying to hide." He slowly turns his head to look over his shoulder at the flummoxed Watcher, staring at him in blatant horror. "Unfortunately for you, I have no intention of letting your sleeping secrets lie. Ethan Rayne wasn't a good man either but he tried to help others even as his body was dying. People I care about were saved because he did something selfless and right and I won't let him be forgotten. I won't let you deny him."

Giles doesn't answer as he buries his face in his hands. His shoulders shake under the weight of his actions and Spike smiles. He's made a Watcher cry, how marvellous!

A rush of movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention and he calmly sidesteps the Slayer's hurtling body and she crashes into the steel-bracketed wooden shelving with crushing force. Spike pivots on the ball of his foot and kneels, closing his hand around her throat and lifting as easily as a piece of tissue paper. She dangles from his hand like a kitten being carried by its Mother, limp and unmoving.

"I wouldn't bother. I could crush her throat before you took two steps." Spike calmly advises as Xander and Willow instinctively stand; both intending try to rush him and free their friend. "Or perhaps I'll return an old favour and break her neck and we'll see how long a paralyzed Slayer takes to heal." His head tilts to the side as Buffy claws at his hand in the futile demand to be set free. "Or if one would heal that much damage at all." He muses curiously. Noticing the blue tinge to her lips he abruptly releases her, dropping her at his feet and calmly stepping over her. "That was your one free shot little girl."

Buffy sputters and wheezes, her hands lifting to cup her sore throat and she tries to rub the sting out of her reddened skin as Spike moves away. He strolls over to the stairs and sits on the steps in front of Angel, who greets his Childe with a nuzzling caress of ther cheeks and wraps his arms around his waist from behind. The tears she's been holding back finally claw their way free.

"How can you hold that monster after what he just did?" She wheezes through her damaged throat, slapping at Xander and Willow as they swarm around trying to help her to her feet.

"You attacked him and he let you go." Angel points out reasonably. He wonders in the privacy of his thoughts if he should have taken it so easy on Buffy during their sparring matches. He always held back since he didn't want to hurt her and even when he lost his soul he never tried as hard as he could have to kill her. That would have been too easy and the only 'easy' things that Angelus preferred were his Beautiful Boy and Pretty Princess submitting to his whims. It was a disservice he can see now. Buffy has an exaggerated impression of just how strong she is and it's made her think she can't be beaten. That is going to be a fatal failing if she doesn't grow up and take her duties seriously.

Giles has scrubbed the evidence of his regrettable emotional outburst away and rounds the counter and ignoring her snarling at him, he lifts Buffy to her feet. It's at these scattered moments that he realizes just how small Buffy actually is. She's one of the smallest built Slayers to have been called. Though a lot of power resides in her petite body, she is still a rather young woman and she doesn't have the experience of maturity that marks adulthood. She won't gain it if she keeps making foolish moves; like attacking a Vampire that already has two and he suspects three Slayers to his credit.

"That was an incredibly foolish move Buffy. You're still weak from the drugs Riley has been feeding to you and you haven't trained properly in months." Giles chastises righteously.

"I haven't had a decent training partner." Buffy says huffily; crossing her arms and looking stubborn and irritated but then she brightens. "Angel can train with me now that he's back. He's a worthy partner for me."

Angel sighs and wonders if Buffy's even noticed how Xander's expression has fallen and he's moved away in embarrassment? He's probably been sparring with her since he left and she's unthinkingly belittled his efforts. Was she always this childish and he somehow just didn't see it before?

"If it's a worthy opponent that you want Buffy then you should train with Spike." Angel announces.

Buffy looks disgusted. "I want to train with the best Angel not your runner-up!" She demands.

Angel startles her by laughing and giving her a pitying look. "What makes you think that I'm better than Spike is? Yes I've beaten him before but he's beaten me too. When Spike is focused and wants something badly enough nothing stops him; including me. I tried to warn you about that when he and Dru came to town looking for me. You should have listened to me."

"He's not better than you!" Buffy denies blindly. "You have a soul and that makes you better!" She stubbornly argues and even Giles looks at her incredulously.

"Riley Finn has a soul too." Wes softly offers. "Do you claim that it makes him better than Spike too? He has a soul and he captures other beings for dissection and experimentation and ultimately agonizing deaths. He's been drugging you for months so that they can use you and pirate your DNA for who knows what twisted experiments." He rifles off. "He seduced Sam and he turned her over just like he would have done to you but we got to her too late to do much for her unlike yourself. Having a soul," Wes can't help but glance at Giles but quickly looks away. "Doesn't make you a good person and it doesn't mean that you can't do evil things or make mistakes; really bad, horribly hurtful mistakes."

"My soul is a liability in a fight Buffy." Angel offers with a sad shake of his head. "It makes me hesitate and second guess myself. That's why I need Spike with me. He doesn't hesitate or stop to analyze but he does what needs to be done and accepts the consequences of his actions. The Initiative is a danger to all of us, Human and Demon alike and they have to be stopped cold. Spike can get the job done and he has my full support. He's going to do what my soul won't let me do."

"That's not all he has by the looks of it." Xander mutters under his breath but in the silence following Angel's speech, they all hear him.

Angel's eyes narrow as he deliberately slides his arm lower until his hand can spread open widely and possessively low over Spike's trim and rippled abdomen. "No that isn't all that he has." Angel agrees smoothly. "He has me." He says simply and then waves his arm. "He has us." He adds as the gesture encompasses their friends and family. "My Boy is back where he belongs."

A gentle squeeze and he releases Spike; who catches on to what he wants and silently holds his hand out to Sam. "Come along Pet, we can do a little sparring. I feel like getting some exercise."

Sam takes his hand and remains relaxed as he easily lifts her from behind Angel and sets her on her feet beside him, still holding her hand. "Wes, why don't you explain the plans we have to Giles before his bloody head explodes? Gunn, come with us? I'll run yo through that side sweep move you were asking me about." Spike suggests as he heads for the hallway they came in through, Sam silently trailing him. Gunn climbs over the railing and down onto the chair before leaping off and following Spike. Wes settles for the more refine option and walks down the steps after Angel stands and moves out of the way.

Xander glances around nervously and then darts after the departing Gunn at a fast jog. Willow makes an 'eeps' sound of distress and chases after Xander.

With Giles duly engaged and distracted by Wesley and Spike leading the others off like the Pied Piper from the story, Angel finally looks at the girl he thought was the love of his life. He knows her now for what she really was and is. She was what he was supposed to want. The sweet and innocent prize at the end of a long struggle and the carrot the Powers have been dangling before his oblivious nose to lead him along. The love of his life, un-life, and forever is far older than this slip of a girl that he doesn't know how to talk to.

She's looking up at him so sweetly and with an open trusting look that he can barely identify much less understand. His innocence was as fleeting as his childhood and just as cheaply sold for a drink and the company of a whore at the local pubs.

"It's alright now Angel. They're all gone, you don't have to lie to me or pretend anymore." Buffy chirps happily as she dives against him and wraps her arms around his waist.

"I'll stake Spike and everything will go back to how it used to be." She promises, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. It's the reason why she's so shocked to feel her arms forced open and feel Angel step back away from her.

"Back to how it used to be was you with Finn and Spike and Dru in my bed." Angel snaps, wondering; and it is not for the first time; if there really is such a thing as cruelty to be kind?

"STOP IT Angel! STOP LYING TO ME!" Buffy demands, darting forward and pounding his chest with fists clenched tightly.

"The only lies that I've ever told were the ones that I believed Buffy." He catches her hands and forces them down and away. "I've tried to be kind to you Buffy and protect you from the less than savoury things that I've done. I know that I was wrong to do that now. I've hurt you and that wasn't what I wanted to do Buffy. You're alive now because Spike was distracted first by Dru and later by me after I lost my soul again. Angelus could have killed you and didn't because it would have been too fast and there's no pleasure in a quick and clean death, not for that part of me. You're strong Buffy but you can be beaten."

Buffy shakes her head in denial. She's the strongest Slayer ever, Giles tells her that all the time and she survived Spike and Angelus both. She doesn't realize she was speaking her thoughts allowed until she hears Angel answer her.

"You did survive but it's because we made mistakes and got distracted or just made stupid choices and not because you beat us. We beat ourselves. You are the strongest Slayer in years that's true but they said that about the two that Spike beat and they'll be saying it one day to one of the Slayers that comes after you too. You seem to forget that you're the Slayer because every one before you is dead now Buffy. It's not that you're a Slayer and that's why you keep beating the odds. It's because you have friends that love you enough to put their lives on the line to help you. You would have been a brief footnote in history; notable for the fact that you faced Angelus and Spike; if Xander hadn't revived you."

"Why are you being so mean?" Buffy can't help the tears that trail down her cheeks.

"Did you even notice how Xander reacted to what you said about training? Do you think that it's easy for him to try and keep up with you and deal with the bruises that I'm sure you left on him? As you so unkindly pointed out, he's only human but that boy cared enough to take the pain if it helped you. Have you ever thanked him for it? Or did you think it was your due?" Angel stiffens his resolve. If Buffy continues to think that she can't be beaten she's going to fall hard and fast and it won't take a fighter of Spike's calibre to do it.

"Wes is right Buffy. The only one that owes you any help is Giles. Willow and Xander are here because they care about you, it's not their job and you're taking them for granted. You keep on this way and they'll get fed up and walking out and not coming back is going to start to look more appealing than putting up with you. You're alive because of your friends, can't you understand that?"

"That's not true! They're just my friends but I don't need them to do my job!" Buffy denies. "Giles says...."

"If you want to see just how wrong you are go to the training room and watch Sam and Spike sparring." Angel interrupts to state, issuing a challenge that he knows Buffy isn't going to be able to avoid answering. He watches silently as she storms off and sighs and joins Wes and Giles at the counter.

"Where is Buffy?" Giles asks as he steps up to join them.

"She went to watch Sam and Spike sparring in the training room." Angel answers as he steps up beside Wes and pats his shoulder blade companionably.

"Oh that's alright then." Giles adjusts his glasses and looks down at the quick diagram Wes sketched out for him. "This plan might actually work; it's quite brilliant really Wesley."

"We'll tell Spike that you think so." Angel and Wes intone in unison.

"Spike came up with this idea?" Giles asks; looking constipated and slightly nauseous.

"Did you think that he was just another pretty face Giles?" Angel asks unnecessarily. He doesn't bother to hide his grin and he can feel Wes choking back laughter next to him. "Spike was a more than averagely intelligent man as a human and the years since he was sired have only deepened his knowledge. Spike is vulnerable when he's not focusing all of his attention on his goals. He misses things and makes mistakes usually because he's impatient to get back to what or who has his full attention. That's why his plans didn't work out after he got here, he was distracted and worried and he cared too damn much to use his more than considerable brain power to its full extent."

"Spike was an educated man?" Giles is incredulous and more than obvious in his disbelief. When Angel first revealed the identity of the mysterious figure that was planning to kill his Slayer he had looked up everything that he could find on the Vampire in question. He was sorely disappointed to realize that what little the Council actually knew was largely conjecture and third or fourth party accounts but little hard fact. It seems that whenever a Watcher drew too close to anything pertinent it was all too quickly derailed by their swift and most often gruesome deaths. Eventually the Council decided to make the study of one 'William the Bloody' too dangerous and his name was placed on the rarest of lists. Less than a dozen names are written on the 'prohibited' list and strangely enough two of them are in his shop with an admittedly brilliant plan to prevent human extinction.

"Of course he is. You know what rigorous schooling male members of the upper classes in England at the time were driven to pursue to fit in." Angel points out. "William was one of the most brilliant Linguists at Oxford and he holds a doctorate in written and spoken languages for roughly a dozen human languages. He's fluent in French, Spanish, Gaelic, Irish and Scottish varieties, Welsh, Chinese, Japanese, Portuguese, Russian, Dutch, Greek and Latin, both ancient and modern. He speaks easily as many Demon languages and he's probably moderately conversant in still more."

"He speaks German and Swahili now as well." Wes adds.

Angel chuckles. "He learned to speak German?"

Wes nods. "He didn't want to talk about it but he starts muttering about 'Bat-faced' corpses, Nazis, and Submarines. Don't even get me started about his ranting over Rasputin's Lover or some such rigmarole. He comes completely unglued since we found out about Penn and Lawson being captured and killed by the Initiative. He becomes completely irrational for hours afterward."

"That is always going to be a sensitive subject to Spike Wes. The Nazis were experimenting on Demons during the war and Spike was one of the Vampires they'd captured for study. The U.S. government basically threatened me to get me to help with what I thought at the time was a hijacked submarine. It turns out that the sub had more than one set of unwelcome 'guests' not the least of which were some high ranking Nazi Officers. Spike had apparently gotten free and in turn freed two other Vampires and they were laying waste to the crew. I brought Spike to heel and the others were dusted in the fighting but the damage was done already. The submarine was damaged and eventually everyone would have suffocated except for us not needing to breathe types. We didn't know until later the extent of the experiments that the Nazis were carrying out and how vital it was to their national security." Angel explains, looking saddened by the memory.

"A fight broke out and the one man that could fix the submarine's engines and save the crew was dying. I was forced to turn him so that he could finish his work and save the other's lives." Angel sighs and crosses his arms over his chest.

"That was how Sam Lawson became your Childe." Wes states surprised to realize for the first time that despite Spike's openness in discussing his Vampire family, this is the first time he's actually heard how Sam came to be in the family.

Angel nods. "He... it was necessary but like Spike would tell me later I was a Bastard about it. I forced them overboard a few miles before I went over the side myself. I thought I was protecting the crew but I was just running away from what I'd done. I never saw Lawson after that night. I did however find out what some of the Nazis research was and I burned it. No one should have that kind of power but it seems that I didn't do a good enough job since the Initiative is a reality and carrying on 'experiments' that are too similar to be a coincidence."

"The Initiative's operation is based off some NAZI experiment from the war?!" Giles exclaims in horror and disgust.

Angel nods soberly. "There's no way that they aren't related. Some of the files that Spike and Wes were able to liberate from the labs they've taken out mention something about behavioural modification implants and that was the almost the exact hypothesis I read in the papers I seized from the Nazis on the submarine. They wanted to create a breed of soldier that their enemies couldn't stop."

"Spike and I have come to the conclusion that the Initiative is pursuing a parallel course of experimentation. We've seen some of the results of their travesty. Demons with limbs or organs of other species grafted on and the few that managed to survive the procedure were monstrously disfigured and most weren't able to function. There are only a small handful of them left; the others committed suicide rather than live like freaks. Phaedra's people are kind to them and they've made a home in their own small village deep in her people's domain where they are accepted and not judged for how they look or what they are. They're victims, each and every one of them, and it's made them into a family. They're leading quiet and productive lives of study. It's due to their efforts at analyzing what we've found in other Initiative facilities that we're this close to stopping them." Wes provides.

The sudden sound of splintering wood and broken glass and alarmed shouting has them all running for the training room.

The scene when they arrive is pandemonium and they're shocked to see Xander and Willow pinning a furious Buffy against the wall. She looks worse for wear, her clothes torn and her cheek is bleeding and small cuts and bruises are already showing through the rips in the fabric. The window to the small observation room that Xander built is almost ripped from the frame and dangles precariously; not that it matters since the glass is now littering the training mat. Giles head spins as Angel lets out a furious growl and charges past him with Wes right behind him and cursing a blue streak and leaves him standing there in the confused dust.

Then he notices the alarming pool of blood spreading out from beneath a prone Spike. There's a clear trail along the pale mat, showing a macabre path mapped out in copious amounts of crimson. The younger Vampire is lying prone and apparently unconscious on the floor, half over the lap of his woman friend as a frantic Gunn tries to stop the bleeding from a grievous wound in the Vampire's back. Giles notices a stake tossed in a corner and pales; almost its entire foot length is stained crimson.

"What the devil is going on in here?" Giles demands. "What did Spike do?"

Xander grunts as Buffy lands a glancing blow on his thigh. He can only be glad that she hit the outer part of his thigh instead of something vital between them. "It wasn't Spike G-man, Buff's flipped her wig! She came in and demanded that Spike fight her and he said no that she hadn't earned it and told her she could fight Sam instead."

"Sam; she's good, she's really good Giles. She was winning and Buffy sort of just flipped out." Willow hesitantly offers, sounding breathless from the effort of holding Buffy back. "The next thing we know she tried to stake Sam!"

Giles looks sick at the thought of his Slayer trying to hurt a fellow human and he feels sick at the possibility that Faith's madness may have somehow spread to his Slayer. The Council ordered Faith's termination and it's not too outrageous to believe that they'd issue another for Buffy; even if they haven't found the new Slayer activated after Faith's death.

"Spike crashed through the window but he couldn't stop her in time so he pulled Sam under him and Buffy got him instead." Xander curses as Buffy strikes out again and hits a little too close to his tender bits for comfort.

Sam looks over at the captured Slayer and then back at Spike's still form then at Angel's anxious face. She silently makes a decision and starts to gently transfer the unconscious Vampire to his Sire's eager care.

Giles eyes narrow as he looks at the wound on Spike's back near his shoulder and mentally compares it to the young woman trying to comfort him even if he's unconscious and he pales even farther. Given where Spike's wound is, Buffy would have hit the young woman in the heart; a fatal wound even for a woman or Slayer alike.

"You tried to kill a human being?" His voice and tone are quiet but their impact on Buffy is as deadly as any gunshot could be.

"She's not human." Buffy denies as though that justifies anything and part of her feels ashamed for what she tried to do when she lost her temper but it was as if a red haze just came over and blinded her. She watched the woman hanging all over Spike like a waterfront hooker and it was disgusting! It was like total and unreasoning hatred and everything in her just demanded that she.... Buffy's thoughts trail off in horrified realization that she tried to kill someone.

"You're right she's not human." Giles agrees. "Any more human than you are." He turns away from the sight of his Slayer and ignoring her cries to forgive her and come back, he walks over to the group huddled around Spike. "I don't have any blood here but I do have a well-stocked first-aid...." He starts to say but the words are choked off by astonishment.

The wound in Spike's back is closing almost right before his eyes. He can see the muscle and tissue drawing closed over the serious injury and he can only stare and watch. Suddenly his view is obscured by dark hair and jumps in place as he realizes that Angel is kneeling over Spike's back and tenderly licking the wound. He stops occasionally to use his nails to slice open his palm and press it to the wound for several seconds until his accelerated healing kicks in as well. He's heard stories about the amazingly tender relationship that Vampires, especially those related by blood and Sires and Childer in particular, can share but this is beyond anything that he could have dreamed of.

His books tell him that Demons can't love but there isn't a doubt in his Council-indoctrinated and overly cynical mind that love is what he's witnessing right now. If the centuries of the Council's teachings can be so wrong, what else is a lie? He shakes off the question for a less anxious time but promises that he will make an effort to discover the truth as he hurries to fetch the first-aid kit.

The wound is still serious but much less so than only minutes before he notices as he hands Wesley the large fish-tackle sized medical box. He watches the younger Watcher, well former Watcher he corrects silently since he's no longer an 'officially'... well official part of the Council. He checks the wound thoroughly, flushing it out well with the saline solution in the kit before announcing that it's clear of any wood splinters. His movements are practiced and skilled and Spike's wound is swiftly tended to by the time that the blond starts to stir. He can hear a murmur of a voice but it's too soft for him to hear the words but that's no impediment for Angel as the larger Vampire rears back in alarm.

"Giles how long has it been since Buffy's last dose of the anti-toxin?" Angel leans back to look up at Giles and he can tell from his expression that the Watcher isn't sure.

"We... Buffy took the vial home with her and said that she'd give it and the instructions to Joyce." Giles confesses and looks over his shoulder at Buffy and shakes his head. "I'm willing to bet that she didn't do it and figured she was mature enough to administer it herself." He admits.

Wes uses the disinfectant wipes to clean the gore off his hands before neatly repacking the medical kit. "You're low on pressure bandages and tincture of Echinacea." He offers as he hands the kit back to Giles and reaches for the cell phone in his jacket pocket with the others. "Dial Joyce." He states clearly and waits for his phone to call the required number.

"Hello Joyce. How nice of you to say, I'm fine and yourself? That's great news. We've had a bit of a situation here at Mister Giles' shop. I was wondering if you might spare some time from packing to do me a little favour. Of course my apologies, I know that you're always ready to help out. I was wondering if you might have a look in your daughter's things and see if you can find a crystal bottle. It's thick crystal and it has a cork stopper with gold trim around the neck. We need for you to bring it to us as soon as possible. It's the cure that Phaedra's healer friend made for Buffy. It seems that she's been neglecting to take it properly and has had a bit of an episode. She got a little overzealous during a training session and did some damage to Spike but we've got him fixed up and he's alright. She should calm after she gets her dosage. Yes at Giles' shop. We'll see you then." Wes closes his phone and slides it back into his pocket. "She's going to go through Buffy's things and see if she can find the bottle. If she can't I'll call Phaedra and she can nip out and bring another bottle." He explains.

Giles hides his displeasure at overhearing Wesley's casual but familiar half-conversation with Joyce. He wishes that he was even a third as natural and relaxed as Wesley on the few occasions he has had to talk to Joyce.

"How did you know what was wrong?" Giles asks curiously, as he clutches the medical case to his chest like a life preserver.

"Spike asked me to ask you." Angel replies honestly. Another curse rips through the room as Buffy's failing legs almost find their mark again. He looks over to see that Gunn has joined the pile-on of bodies keeping Buffy pressed to the wall but even with the four and Sam's strength advantage they can barely hold her there. "Wes, could you do something about her before she gets free?"

Wes nods and stands, gesturing as he walks towards the struggling Slayer. "Ex deo sominis pax!" He reaches out with his right hand and touches the tips of his fingers to the struggling girl's forehead and a bright flash of light stills her struggles instantly. "She'll sleep until I release the enchantment. You can set her down." He advises.

"We'll take her Pal." Gunn advises and a relieved Xander steps back, pulling Willow back a few feet as he goes. They watch as the other two carry Buffy over to a pile of exercise mats and set her on the top of the pile.

"I'll go get some blankets." Willow offers and dashes from the room.

"I'll go watch the shop." Xander offers and rushes out of the room without looking at Buffy. He pauses only long enough to take the medical kit from Giles.

"We'll go help the kid out." Gunn offers and holding his hand out to Sam, the pair leaves to follow Xander. They nod politely to Willow as they pass her returning with a stack of neatly folded blankets.

"Willow what happened in here?" Giles asks looking confused and disappointed.

"Spike and Sam were sparring when Buffy came in." Willow says as she pauses by Wes; who has returned to his protective watch over Spike and Angel; and hands him a blanket before continuing over to Buffy.

Wes kneels and helps Angel arrange the blanket over Spike. The younger Vampire is conscious but drowsy as his energy is tapped by his body to speed his phenomenal healing rate along aided by the blood that Angel's infused into the wound. The saliva so lovingly applied by his Sire will ensure that the wound doesn't scar.

Willow kneels and spreads the other two blankets over Buffy, tucking them around her fussily. "You should have seen them Giles! I've never seen anything like it. They were almost a blur they were moving so fast but it was kind of slow and graceful like at the same time you know? Sort of Swan Lake but with the kicking and the punching and the running up walls and flipping and rolling...."

"What happened then?" Giles interrupts knowing that it's best to stop Willow's headlong verbal rushes before they have a chance to get started if he's going to learn what he wants to know anytime soon.

"Buffy came in and was watching with us and she seemed fine but she really wanted to fight Spike and I mean a lot. He refused and said that she had to fight Sam first before he'd fight her. She...." Willow glances at her friend and sighs. "She insulted him and demanded that he fights again and he said no again and that she wouldn't be able to beat Sam much less him. Sam hugged him and kissed his cheek and started warming up and the next thing we knew Buffy was trying to take her head off!" Willow admits. "Spike didn't seem worried though and from what I saw Giles.... I don't think Buffy was going to beat her, she's really, really good. I didn't even see her draw the stake but Spike did because the next thing we know he's crashing through the window and then bleeding on the floor."

Giles looks at Angel intending to ask a question and abruptly looks away from the sight of the larger Vampire tenderly kissing his smaller Childe. He turns his attention and curiosity to Wesley.

"Gunn and Sam ran to Spike to check on him and it was so weird Giles but I think Buffy tried to stop them but I don't think she was trying to hit Spike again. She got between him and them and tried to keep them away and it took all of us to wrestle her against the wall. They left us to hold her and went to try and help Spike and that's when you came in and saw the rest." Willow explains, not realizing that Giles isn't really paying attention to her anymore.

"You don't seem to be caught by surprise about any of this. You were expecting it." Giles notes, looking at Wesley.

"We knew that it was a possibility given Sam's continuing reactions. The treatment that the Healers came up with has helped a lot but she will always have episodes until the day she dies. The damage that they've done to her is extensive and permanent." Wesley reveals quietly. "Will has been the steady presence in her life and at her side through it all and she doesn't try to hurt him or kill him anymore. He's one of the few that can get through to her when one of her bad nights comes around. She wouldn't kill me or one of our family members but she can and has hurt us in her dementia before. Unlike your Slayer who will eventually recover, Sam is locked in the nightmare forever. We've become unfortunately accustomed to dealing with extremely violent outbursts."

"That's why you came up with that spell? What type of magic is it? The incantation wasn't familiar to me but it sounded vaguely familiar." Giles asks, watching as Willow fusses around Buffy.

"It's earth magic or as Phaedra's kind calls it, Nature Lore. Phaedra's Great-Grandmother is a Priestess of an ancient order of Nature Mages and she honoured me by accepting me as Apprentice. It will take a hundred years to learn just the basics but I have time. It's not like I'm getting any older right?" Wes smirks and slips his hands into his pockets and rocks on his heels.

Giles rears back. "What is that supposed to mean?" He snaps in shock.

"I'm the Master Steward of the Aurelius Order Mister Giles." Wesley reminds him. "It would hardly be worth it to give a man such an exalted position of authority only to have to turn around and have to train a replacement in forty or fifty years." He points out but he can see that Giles is still not making the connection. "I am bound-in-blood to Will." He finally states bluntly. He's a little disappointed that the Mentor that he used to follow wouldn't have figured it out himself. "No one knows precisely how long I'll live without aging but lifespans of hundreds of years have been recorded."

"You're a Human Servant?!" Giles shouts and looks at Wesley like he's grown two heads suddenly and neither one is very attractive.

"He's a Human Companion, Watcher. You should know what the difference is."

Giles looks down to see wide open blue eyes staring up at him from the floor. He watches as Angel regains his feet, surprisingly gracefully for such a powerfully built man, and gently lifts the young Vampire to his.

Spike isn't paying much attention to him however as he curses violently as he struggles to sit up with Angel's help. "I like these shirts damn it! Bloody hormonal Slayers should be outlawed!" He growls as he summarily strips off the bloody silk shirt and the t-shirt beneath it.

Giles can't help but stare. He remembers visiting the greatest art galleries in the world as a child with his Parents and beauty such as he sees now could rival Michelangelo's David. He watches as Angel curves a caressing palm over Spike's pectoral muscle and gently urges him to turn away as his other hand lifts to trace the bandages that Wes applied to his back. He can't help but feel the thrumming of anger at Buffy once again upon seeing the injury and the disfiguring bandages. He drops his eyes as he feels the tell-tale and embarrassing reaction to seeing just how lovely Spike's body is and he grimaces as he notices that he's gotten blood on his shoes. He pulls out the handkerchief that he always keeps in his pocket for his glasses and cleans the smudges off his shoe. He looks around but can't see the small metal wastebasket they usually keep in one of the corners and he sniffs in annoyance and carefully folds the cotton and tucks it into his pocket to get rid of later.

"How are you feeling Spike?" He finds himself asking; moving restlessly in place and fidgeting as he watches Angel's palms alternately smoothing over the younger Vampire's chest and back. He can see that the bandages have the slightly faint pink of blood but that the absorbent dressing is keeping the bleeding to a minimum.

"The wounds will be healed by tonight." Spike replies quietly. "You're not going to be able to trust her for quite a while Watcher." He announces bluntly. "Her head is all screwed up and she can't be trusted to know what's best for herself or anyone else until Finn's poison works its way out."

"I'm sure that between Joyce and me that we can come up with some sort of a schedule to make sure that someone is always with her." Giles assures him with a touch of arrogant possessiveness.

"Joyce isn't well Watcher." Spike quietly confides, his eyes narrowing at the shattered look on the man's face. "Her headaches are coming too often and lasting for too long; there's something wrong. Her scent is different and her blood pressure is too low when she has one of those headaches."

"There's something wrong with Mrs. Summers?" Willow asks worriedly.

"Wil has asked Phaedra to take her to the Healers among her people. Their medicine is far and above what human science can provide so she'll be in good hands." Angel continues in a quietly confident voice. "Once she finishes her business Phaedra's people will come for you and escort you to the Healers. You, the boy, and the Slayer can go with her and you'll be safe but I have to warn you that you will be escorted by a guard any time that you leave your quarters." He looks at Willow and tries to look reassuring.

"Phaedra's people have lived apart from humanity for thousands of years and you'll find them to be a peaceful and lovely people but they aren't a blind one. Make sure everyone," Angel glances at Buffy's still form and then back at Willow. "Stays on their best behaviour while you're their guests and everything will be fine. If you cause any trouble they'll bring you back to Giles while Joyce remains there. Do you understand?"

Willow looks faintly alarmed and very nervous. "I understand Angel. Mrs. Summers is more important than our egos and I'll make sure that Buffy takes her medicine." She promises and after a short hesitation and a shy smile she adds. "And that Xander doesn't get into trouble."

"The Elem are a people of peace and beauty to whom life is sacred and their cities are alive in a way that gives birth to dreams. In fact you may even see your dreams out walking around." Spike's recitation is whimsical and just one step over the lyrical line but Angel smiles at hearing that his warrior Childe still has the heart of a poet; even if it doesn't beat any longer.

Willow smiles and nods reassured but Giles isn't so eagerly convinced.

"You can't expect me to let you take Joyce and the children without proper supervision on your reassurances alone." Giles crosses his arms over his chest.

"One assumes that we've asked for your permission Mister Giles." Wesley takes a step forward pushes his glasses a touch farther up his nose with a tap from his fingers. "Joyce has visited before and it is her decision to go and see the Healers. We gave her the option of seeing a specialist here but she's made the choice to trust Phaedra's people, the Elem to help her. We haven't given her ultimatums or tried to make the decision for her and if you think that you can change her mind then by all means try to convince her."

"You don't know her very well if you think that is going to be easy Watcher." Spike warns. "Joyce isn't quick to make up her mind but it is set in stone once she has."

"I think that I'm in a better position to judge what is best for my Slayer and her Mother." Giles arrogantly interjects. "I've known them long enough to know them well."

"How much time have you spent with Joyce?" Wes asks incredulously. "She mentions that boy Xander more than she mentions you." He adds. "Well unless she's complaining about none of you telling her what's going on with her daughter and the slaying. She mentions you then." From the amused looks that Spike and Wesley exchange, she's not being very flattering or complimentary during those conversations.

"Let's play a little game shall we?" Angel suggests with a devilish grin. "What is Joyce's favourite book, play, movie, or musical?"

"Her favourite written work is Steinbeck's East of Eden." Wesley and Spike announce in unison and without hesitation.

"I believe there are monsters born in the world to human parents. Some you can see, misshapen and horrible, with huge heads or tiny bodies. . . . And just as there are physical monsters, can there not be mental or psychic monsters born? The face and body may be perfect, but if a twisted gene or a malformed egg can produce physical monsters, may not the same process produce a malformed soul?" Spike quotes off the top of his head, remembering a passage that Joyce has debated with him at length.

Wesley grins and gets into the spirit of sticking it to Giles. "I believe that there is one story in the world, and only one. . . . Humans are caught—in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and generosity too—in a net of good and evil. . . . There is no other story. A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have left only the hard, clean questions: Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well—or ill?" He quotes from another of Joyce's favourite passages in the novel.

"Her favourite play to watch is the 'Glass Menagerie'." That is a quiet offering from Willow, who looks sheepishly at Giles and shrugs at his hurt look that she'd take part in showing him up.

"Her favourite play to act in is 'A Streetcar Named Desire'. She played Blanche in her University's performance and got rave reviews." Spike reveals.

"She has two favourite musicals. She likes 'Cats' because it's the first musical she saw on her first visit to New York and Broadway." Wesley provides. He sends an amused look at Spike. "Will, he got her hooked on Monty Python so she can sing the every song from "Spamalot' now. 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail' replaced 'African Queen' and "Maltese Falcon' as her favourite movie." He adds dryly.

"Her favourite actor is Humphrey Bogart." Spike points out with a snicker even though it's kind of obvious given her former favourite movies. "Her favourite actress was Audrey Hepburn."

"She likes Katherine Hepburn too." Willow adds, getting into the spirit. "She watches the "Desk Set' every time that it's on. She thinks that Hepburn and Tracy is one of Hollywood's greatest romances."

"And right she is too." Angel agrees but flushes as he accidentally reveals his secret vice for the classic Hollywood romance story. He's not about to volunteer that he watches 'Desk Set' every time it's on either! "That was an okay movie." He adds in a deliberately blasé tone as he helps Spike to lie back down as his energy flags again.

"Her favourite colour is Hunter Green." Spike provides.

"Her favourite food is Lobster with drawn butter and Shrimp Scampi but she likes a nice medium rare cut of Prime Rib too." Wes provides that fact.

"Her favourite country is South America. She said the people are so vibrant and colourful that they remind her of rainbows." That's offered by Willow with another apologetic shrug.

"I think that we've made our point admirably." Wesley notes, noticing that Giles is about ten seconds away from flying into a royal snit and diplomatically tries to head off the impending explosion. "We should finish up the discussion about the plans and let Will and Miss Summers rest until Joyce gets her." He urges and crosses the room and gently pulls Willow to her feet and gently pushes her towards the door.

Angel gives in gracefully; leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Spike's forehead as he sweeps his coat off and tucks it gently around his recovering Childe. The additional warmth will be pleasant on muscles aching from the accelerated healing and his scent clinging to the coat will comfort and reassuring his injured boy that his Sire is near. He notices that Wes is making sure that every way into the room is secured and he nods his approval. He stands and all but physically carries Giles back out to the front of the store despite his protests.

"I'll keep them out of here." Wes pauses and checks a final time that Spike is comfortable before patting his best friend on the shoulder and standing. "You relax and rest Will. The healing will go faster and we can hurry up and get the hell out of here." He shoots a darkly angry look at Buffy before quietly leaving and closing the door behind him.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Spike lies quietly for several minutes. It's not the first time he's been laid low and feeling his flesh twitch and quiver as though it were still alive as it labours to repair the damage from a Slayer's attack. It never feels one less iota of weird.

He feels the tell-tale tremors quieting and can feel his tense aching muscles starting to relax several minutes later. He knows that much of the deep tissue damage is almost healed and he stirs carefully. Experience has taught him that this is still a delicate time for his recovering body and he gingerly pushes his warm covering aside and rolls onto his side away from the wound.

Logic and the tiny voice that never leaves his mind; that he privately refers to and in all affection as his 'Inner Wesley'; and whispers common sense tells him that he should be lying down and resting. He ignores it for the necessity of the moment. He has something that he really needs to say and he'll never have a better time to do it.

He makes his way to his knees cautiously, getting his feet under him and resting on the balls of his feet and suddenly glad for the stable support of his boots. He makes his way over to the Slayer's still form, in a surprisingly graceful crouching shuffle, balancing on his feet and one of his hands. He keeps the arm on his injured side tucked up close to his chest to avoid tugging at the healing flesh on his back and shoulder where the stake punched through.

He sighs in relief as he settles into a comfortable crouch next to the pile of mats cushioning the Slayer. Kneeling as he is would be uncomfortable for a human but he is comfortable and comforted by the position. He's come to find that the Vampire that lurks beneath the skin appreciates the differences in his anatomy that separates him from mankind even as his other half reaches out to his former brethren.

The hands that gently remove the Slayer's arm from beneath the blankets are carefully cautious as is the tongue that sweeps gently along one of the scratches still seeping a faint amount of blood. Fangs don't pierce, teeth don't tear, and the tongue doesn't gouge as the gentle licks wear away the clotted blood and release a fresh seeping flow of red that in seconds heals as though it never was. Only then do the fangs plunge into blood-plump tissues as Spike bites his bottom lip viciously. The soft tissue heals almost instantly but it's long enough for his to gather several fat drops of his blood on his fingertips. His hand is steady as he draws one of the bloody digits along the Slayer's lower lip painting it a deep crimson that isn't unpleasant against the girl's honeyed skin tones.

After a few seconds the Slayer makes a quiet sound and stirs and her pink tongue sweeps along her bottom lip removing the traces of red. Spike patiently paints her lip with another fingertip and in a few seconds that trace too is gone and he feels the quiet thrumming in his mind and he knows that a connection has been made.

"I know that you can hear me but I want you to listen to me. I alone know what you're feeling, I can feel it too and I know this pain. Loving him is easy isn't it? Even when it's the hardest bloody thing in your universe to put up with his bizarre quirks and metro-sexual habits that he always denies having. We know better don't we? You think that he's meant for you and that yours is the next great love story." Spike keeps his voice low, leaning close until his lips are almost brushing the girl's small ear.

"You're a little girl playing Romeo and Juliet but forgetting how it ends. What do you think that you can give him that I can't? The happy marriage, the small house with the white picket fence and the two point five children that all you girls seem to be obsessed with; is that what you think he wants? Newsflash for you Slayer, the packaging may be human but it's the Demon that animates it. Without Angelus Liam would be dust to dust centuries before you were born. You turn from his Demon and you court the man but you can never love the Demon when everything in you wants it dead. What is the little girl dream that you cling to and what miracle do you court? This isn't a fairytale girl, this is life and living it is razorblades and kisses, one will cut you open and the other makes you want to take the pain if it means you can feel the pleasure too." Spike can see the fluttering images roiling through his mind like an old-fashioned newsreel playing in his mind and flashing images both indistinct and yet crystal clear.

One image above all resonates strongly and stands out from the other. The perfect suburban life, right out of an episode of 'Ozzy and Harriet' plays in his mind. He shakes his head over the dreams of a girl trapped in a woman's ripening body.

"So that's the truth." He whispers.

"When I said it was a fairytale I was more right than I knew. He's not going to just up and turn Human one day and give you the 'normal' life that you feel you've been cheated of. Even if he was to suddenly transform, you would still be who you are. Slayers don't belong to the PTA or organize carpools or bake sales. They fight until they die and it starts all over with the next one. Your retirement is death and your dream is a lie. You'd have a few short years and it would be over for you but you would leave him behind to grieve you and you'd be alone again. I can give him forever, I've given him my forever and to my kind forever isn't just a word but it's a promise, a possibility that you can't give to him. I can. I'll always look like the boy he never let out of his sight a century ago; that Angelus loved as much as he tormented. I've been pulled from time's ravages and preserved by his blood filtered to me by Drusilla as a gift to her Father-God. I am the sacrifice placed upon the altar that he accepted and I alone love the Man and the Demon in him. I can make him whole and give him back the purpose that he's lost. I alone have seen the things that he's seen, I know his beauty and his ugliness and I won't run from it."

Spike tucks her arm back beneath the blankets and tucks the edges around her with exaggerated care as he returns to his pile of mats and warm coverings. "Let him go before it kills you. Or I do."

The effort of crawling back and rearranging the blanket and jacket are taxing and he falls into true sleep within moments of snuggling his cheek into the fragrant comfort of his Sire's coat.

He doesn't see the tear glistening at the edge of the Slayer's closed eye that stubbornly refuses to fall but he can scent it in the air and part of him mourns for a little girl's lost dream. The rest of him is curled up happily with the Sire that always steals into his dreams and glories that were and may yet to be wing him away from consciousness. He never feels the tear slipping silently from the corner of his eye and down his cheek; not all tears are born of sadness.

When Angel comes in later with Joyce, it is to find the two peacefully sleeping and healing, though it took Joyce several minutes of fussing to reassure her that they were both going to be okay.

"How are we supposed to give this to her when she's like that?" Joyce asks, looking at her unnaturally still daughter. Even in sleep Buffy is unusually active, tossing and turning and muttering to unseen people and images so her stillness is a little unnerving for her Motherly instincts. She holds up the vial and rocks it back and forth in the air. "Can we take the spell off?"

"I don't think that we should have Wes take it off until she's had her medicine and it's had time to work. >From what Willow told us she was almost uncontrollable and it took four of them to hold her until she was tired enough that Willow and Xander could manage her alone. Sam is a lot stronger than she looks and Buffy's had time to rest. Why don't you go mix her dosage into some juice and come back? Maybe we can get her to swallow a little at a time if we sit her up?" Angel suggests, smoothing his coat down from where it's covering Spike's face and stroking his cheek softly.

"It's almost time my Lad. The Initiative will be gone soon and your Brother's deaths avenged and I can take you away from this hellish town again. It's not safe here for us." Angel glances over at the blanketed Buffy. "And it's not that sane for that matter." He adds. "I never thought I'd say this but I miss our home." He admits softly, pulling Spike's arm out from under to hold his hand. He smiles as his Childe instinctively turns his hand and tightens it around his until he's being held back.

He gently pulls his hand free from Spike's but pats it in silence promise to be back soon as Joyce returns with a cup of juice. It takes them about half an hour to slowly get the cup of juice into Buffy since they had to be careful that she drank the whole thing and its medicinal hijacker. Laying her back down and covering her with the blankets they wait another half an hour and watch and wait. When Angel feels that enough time has passed he calls Wes to remove the spell and returns to sit beside his Childe. It doesn't last much more than a minute before he's worming his way under the jacket covered blanket to curl around his Childe. He doesn't relax until Spike is half under his body, his thigh thrown across his hips and his arm crosses his chest to rest on the mat on the other side. Wrapped around his boy as he is, Angel finally lets go of the worry and tension that's gripped him since he saw his Childe so grievously wounded and relaxes. In a few seconds, soothed by the knowledge of Spike's safety and proximity, he slips into a light doze.

Before he leaves Wes thoughtfully casts a silence spell around the mats and those resting on them. After a short hesitation he casts another spell and every trace of blood in the training room seems to evaporate in a puff of Copper-scented smoke. As Spike is always saying and rightly so too, blood is power and it seems wise not to leave any traces of Spike's blood lying around to be collected.

None of them stir as Gunn and Xander enter to clean up the shattered glass and wood and take some measurements to fix the broken window and frame. Not even the sounds of saws and hammers and scratchy sandpaper smoothing the rough wood wakes the sleeping trio.

"Are they okay?" Xander asks looking at the still forms lying undisturbed as they work around them. He stops smoothing the fine grained sandpaper over the wood, his other hand caressing the wood and checking for any spots that need more going over with the before they prime and paint.

"Wesley says that Baby Boy is going to be fine and your Slayer friend too. I think that Angel didn't sleep well last night so that's why he conked out now. He was cranky as all shit when he woke up this morning. I thought he was going to break my door in when he was pounding the door to wake me up and tell me to get ready." Gunn answers.

"Phaedra said that Baby Boy was ill last night; something to do with that mind whammy trick he pulled on Finn; and that Wes stayed with him to make sure that he was alright. I don't think that Angel sleeps well alone anymore or he was fretting about being apart from Fang Junior there. I'll never understand white folks, fanged or not." Gunn jokes and Xander chuckles over the humorous nicknames he has for Spike.

"I get the Fang Junior one but why do you call him Baby Boy?" Xander asks curiously.

Gunn looks confused for a second and then grins. "I didn't start that nick going around." He comments and nods his head at Angel with a wicked smile. "You can blame Big Daddy for that one."

Xander sputters and snickers and finally laughs until he's falling down. "Oh man that's rich... and twisted. The Bloodsucking Adventures of Big Daddy and Baby Boy tonight on FOX; that would be a good name for a hit show." He jokes and Gunn almost drops the hammer he's holding as he laughs at the imagery.

"I gotta tell you man, those two are built for it; the superhero gig. The Watcher-Man is too. I've seen them kick the asses of things that gave me nightmares for a week! A week or so back those two," Gunn nods towards the sleeping Vampires. "Had a fight that lasted about two days over some dumb ass question about Astronauts and Cavemen. We thought they were going to end up killing each other over it and Wes finally told them to knock it off before they did and drug us all out on patrol."

Gunn recalls what he saw and can't hide his shivers from Xander who looks faintly alarmed. "We came across a Blasius Demon doing some grave-robbing; they like to eat carrion, the more rotted the better. Have you ever seen a Blasius Demon?" He asks and Xander shakes his head, his eyes are open so widely that they almost swallow his eyebrows.

"They're ugly Sonofbitches; about ten feet tall and about half as wide, with wooden spines running down their backs and razors for claws and enough teeth to make a Great White shark feel tooth envy. They spit this nasty acidic slime and their front fangs have venom sacks that inject this nasty stuff that dissolves you from the inside out after it paralyzes you. Nasty, ugly, really short tempered, and with some kind of a hard-on against Vamps. It went after Angel and scratched his cheek, it was like a two inch long mosquito bite; that's how not serious it was but sheeeeee-it you should have seen Baby Boy go after it. He ripped it apart piece by piece but it didn't die; he wouldn't let it. It was alive for the whole two hours that he was demolishing it until he finally let it die. That is one Baby you don't want to piss off." Gunn recalls and looks at Xander. "I'd keep that in mind if you're planning on doing any teasing about this when the sleeping beauties wake up." He warns seriously and goes back to his hammering.

After a few seconds Xander goes back to sanding even though the wood doesn't need it. "You like them don't you? How can you be friends with Vampires? Aren't you afraid of them?"

"Angel, I'm down with. He's been my Homeboy for a while now so I admit that I like the big lug. Junior, well he's a hard one to know. I'm not sure if I like him but I definitely respect him and Baby Boy sure has style!" Gunn exclaims. "Wherever we go people bend over backward for him. If you want the best seat, the best table, the best price on anything, get him to go along. He got them to take thirty percent off the price of my truck!" It's clear that Gunn is impressed by that handy trait.

Gunn glances at the Vampires over his shoulder again before he turning back to pay attention to his work. "As for them being Demons...." He stops to think about the question for a few seconds and tries to sum up feelings that he's never had to put into words before. "They are what they are and they don't bother to hide it ya know? I think that in a way I'd rather have the Wolf that knows he's a Wolf and doesn't hide it then have to figure out who is a Wolf in Sheep's clothing. You know where you stand with them and they don't play the stupid games that people I've known have played. I always figured that Angel was unique because you know the soul and all yeah?"

Xander nods as he listens to Gunn. "Giles says that the soul makes all the difference."

Gunn shrugs. "I can't say if he's right or wrong; I don't know the man. I've been around Baby Boy and the other Fanged Ones enough to see that they aren't animals though. They'll be the first ones to tell you that you can't trust every Vampire not to be though. It's complicated but they explained it to me so I think that I get it now but those boys and their family; they look after us. We've met Vampires from other bloodlines and they always make sure to let them know that we're off-limits on pain of well extreme pain." Gunn shrugs and keeps hammering.

"What did they tell you about Vampires?" Xander asks curiously; his heart aching for his friend Jesse lost twice over.

"I know that they can love." Gunn asks peeking over his shoulder at the Vampires again and flushing. "Sometimes I think that they can love better than people do." He mutters.

"Giles says that Vampires can't love!" Xander argues as his complexion pales.

"I don't care what that old man of yours says but I've seen it. Angel and Spike fight like a Dog and Cat at times but the love is always there too. I've seen them with the other ones, the ones like them, and I can see that they care and they worry and that they're family. My Father said that he loved my Sister and me and but it didn't keep him from beating our Mother black and blue or overdosing and dying on my bed when I was twelve. Souls don't mean that you can't do bad things. People with souls do bad things all the time! So why can't people without a soul do good things in the same way?" Gunn asks.

Xander wants to throw up when he realizes that he can't answer that question. If Spike could make that choice then maybe Jesse could have too and he'd still have his friend. He just can't let it go. "How can you tell if a Vampire is doing good or doing bad things?" He asks bluntly.

"If it's trying to eat you is probably a good clue." Gunn replies in a serious tone.

They laugh until their sides hurt at the simple and bluntly stated truth. Maybe it is just no more complicated than that; evil is as evil does.

"Hey after this how about we grab some pool cues, have some drinks, and shoot a few racks?" Xander suggests feeling absurdly shy. He's right back in High School again; the geek asking one of the cool kids if they want to be friends.

"Sure man that sounds great. I doubt Spike is going to feel up to training tonight anyway. He can teach me more moves another time." Gunn answers driving the last nail and taking a cautious step back. The frame holds securely and he lets out an anxious breathe, "It's looking good." He announces slapping his work mate on the shoulder. "You've got a talent for this stuff man; you're definitely in the right career."

Xander can't stop the blush staining his cheek and ducks his head quickly, kneeling and cleaning up his tools and neatly packing them into his toolbox. "Thanks, I've unfortunately had a lot of practice with broken doors and windows around here." He replies gruffly, hoping he won't be blushing anymore when he stands up. "The glass is on order at the supply store so we'll have to wait to put that in but like you were saying I doubt that anyone is going to feel like doing any training tonight anyway."

"I don't think that it would matter if Spike feels like it or not." Gunn chuckles loudly. "The only fighting he's going to be doing is the one to get Angel to leave him alone for five minutes. He and Wes are going to be on that boy like white on rice for at least the next day or so." Want to grab some popcorn and watch the show? I guarantee you that it's worth it trying to watch them baby Spike when he can probably take them both on and win. He's one mean Mothah-F." He jokes.

"Did you just call him Mothra?" Xander jokes with a snickering laugh.

"Well maybe in that one movie where it kicked Godzilla finny butt." Gunn jokes back.

"Hey you know those old movies!" Xander exclaims looking like he's discovered the Holy Grail.

"They have a revival of those old movies at a theatre in my old neighbourhood. I've seen every one of them at least four times and they never get old. It's not like many first run movies play in the hood that I came from so I learned to appreciate them." Gunn answers honestly. "There wasn't much else to do round there that wouldn't get a Brother ten-to-twenty."

"They've got a Vincent Price double feature down at the Reinhold; House on Haunted Hill and the Masque of the Red Death, I think." Xander replies excitedly, reaching up and taking the hammer Gunn's floating in front of his eyes and carefully stowing it in the case before closing it with a definitive snap. "We have time to run by the liquor store on the way and pick up some candy." He stands and dusts his clothes off and tries not to look shy. "If you want to catch the shows." He adds, trying not to jump up and down excitedly.

Gunn smiles and bounces a fist on his shoulder. "It sounds great man. We can take my truck." He announces. "I should let Wes know where I'm off to; did want to drop your tools off at home?"

Xander shakes his head hurriedly. "I'm off tomorrow and I'll need them here to do the glass so I may as well just have Giles lock them up in one of the office cabinets." He decides, lifting the heavy tool case easily and leading Gunn out of the room. The sleepers never stir at the birth of a new friendship.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Her Mother's worried face is the first thing that she sees when she wakes up and she wants to crawl into her arms and cry like she did when she was a little girl and woke up from a bad dream. She hasn't slept nearly long enough to be able to forget what she did and what she tried to do but she wishes that she could have. She looks down at her arms and isn't surprised to see that the scratches and bruises she had are gone. If only the memory of how they got there had gone away too.

There's a few seconds of agonizing horror as she realizes that she's speaking but that she can't hear my voice. Am I deaf? Did someone hit me and make me a mute for trying to hurt... no trying to kill... that girl? Oh God, what's going on?

It's only when I see Giles run in with that traitorous Watcher and Willow at his heels that something more is going on here. I can see the gestures Wesley is making and see his mouth moving but there is no sound until suddenly everything comes back in a rush that sends my hands flying up to cover my ears. I can hear my whimpers and my begging to make it quiet again but it fades to tolerable levels within seconds, like the rush of air from a freshly opened bottle of soda.

"It's okay Buffy, you're okay." Joyce wraps her arms around her daughter and rocks her gently.

I've never heard a sweeter sound than my Mother's voice. The girl comes in and pulls Wesley away, her hands and arms moving gracefully as she gestures silently and ends up pointing at the other corner of the room.

Oh God, it's Angel. Something has happened to Angel. Did I do it? I don't remember doing it.... Then I realize that Angel isn't alone and I want to be unconscious again.

"What happened to Angel?" My voice is husky to my ears and my throat hurts but I can't tell if it's from the screaming and yelling I did earlier or the effort to hold back the ones that I want to let loose now.

"Angel is fine. He's just resting." Wesley comments, his hands still gesturing without pause to the attentive girl and never pausing in his conversation with her. After a few seconds he hands her some keys and she leaves silently.

"Is she okay? I mean she looks okay but she's just... she's not a Slayer." I point out uselessly.

"Samantha isn't a Slayer but that doesn't make her Human either. She has no ill effects from your training session." Wesley notes.

"I tried to hurt her."

"You tried to kill her Miss Summers but fortunately she trains with Spike enough to make her a very formidable fighter and she's used to things trying to kill her. You weren't a serious threat until you pulled the stake." Wesley replies calmly and wonders if he should remove the silence spell from Angel and Spike now or wait for them to wake up on their own.

"What about Spike?"

"His wounds are healing well and the blood that Angel gave him will speed up the healing still further. He won't even have a scar in two or three hours from now." Wes replies absentmindedly as he makes a decision and removes his spell.

Angel predictably senses their presences near his vulnerable Childe and begins to stir almost immediately. His eyes snap open and he goes from slumber to wakefulness just that quickly and he lifts his head and observes his surroundings. He sits up and off of Spike only once he's sure that there is no danger but he remains hovering protectively over him, casting uneasy glances at Buffy.

"What's going on here?" Angel asks gruffly, the only thing that betrays that he's not quite fully awake yet. "Are you better Buffy?"

"I'm so sorry Angel. I don't know what came over me...."

"It's not your fault. It's that crap that Finn's been giving you. It makes your emotions and hormones go berserk and you just lost it for a while." Angel waves off the apology dismissingly with an actual wave of his hand. "Wes, can you bring the car around? I want to take him home and get him into a real bed where he can rest and Phaedra and check him over; just in case." He announces making his way to his feet in a single graceful motion that should have been impossible for a man of his build.

"I anticipated that. Sam went to bring the car around." Wes replies, bending over and retrieving Angel's jacket and handing it to him so that he can put it on.

They look down as Spike starts to stir and they quickly crouch down beside him. Angel runs his fingers through Spike's hair, nodding at Wes to hold his hand which he does without argument. "Rest quietly my Boyo, Sire is here and Brother is near. Sleep my Sweet Lad; sleep until I say that you can wake." His voice is soft and sibilant, the tone and cadence is very alien but somehow soothing but commanding and Spike's movements quiet.

"What... what was that?"

"That was a dominant Vampire giving an order to a submissive one." Giles proclaims knowledgably. "It is how the Sire maintains control of his bloodline."

"You have that wrong as usual." Wes snorts. "Angel used what Vampires refer to as the Sire's Voice. What you actually heard just then was Angelus, the Demon part of Angel talking to his Childe, Demon to Demon. Do you know what makes a Sire a Sire?"

"They make someone a Vampire?" Willow replies shyly.

"Well, yes but there's more to it. You see when a Vampire makes a Childe they give more than their blood to them. They give a small piece of themselves too, sort of an essence that passing through the blood. Every Demon born of Angelus, directly or in some cases like Spike indirectly through another of his direct descendants, is part of him. Because of that every Demon of his line is bound to him and unless he does something so heinous that his Demon is cast out by his progeny, they will obey him." Wes explains. "It's one of the reasons that killing one's Sire is never done, the cost to the Demon is extreme and it hurts the Sire as much as it does the Childe."

"Giles says that Sires kill their Childer all the time...." Buffy scoffs.

Wesley looks weary. "I really have to correct all the mistakes in the literature. It's not your fault Mister Giles that you're just repeating the same rhetoric that you were taught." He mutters and Giles looks offended. "Masters have little regard for Minions in most cases. They're turned with the idea that they're disposable after all, cannon fodder if you will. So no weeping is done if they're dusted, there's always two or four more to take its place. Childer, well they are different on every level. They're not disposable and they're turned with the intent to be kept."

"Childer, they are our future. The way that we preserve ourselves for the future generations in much the same way that human parents want to pass on their genetics to their children and thereby pass on part of themselves, we're driven to pass on our Demon's bloodline. We choose them carefully. Forever is a long time and the effort of making a Childe can be taxing for both parties to the point that occasionally a Sire will be lost along with the Childe-to-be. We protect, train, and guide them as Fledglings with the hopes that they will one night bring us glory by becoming Masters themselves." Angel offers. "Until a Sire releases a Childe and acknowledges that they're Masters and independent, they are bound to their Sires and we are responsible for their training and protection."

"Sires veritably own their Childer; they are their Master in more than name alone or by any pale human definition. A Sire is responsible for the Childe's very existence and what they give they can reclaim. There is no stigma for a Sire to remove a Childe by staking or whatever means for that reason. However it does reflect poorly on the Sire in question; unless their Childe has been declared independent as Angel has said; as it shows their failure to maintain control of their Childe. Or perhaps in some cases of having given the eternal gift in the first place. A Sire that gains a reputation for staking its Childer without good cause is worthy of little respect and would lose standing in the Order and among its peers, though nearly every Sire has staked at least one. A Childe that should kill its Sire is another matter. They are reviled by all and often a Blood Hunt is called, as it was with Angel."

Angel is shocked by that revelation. "There was a Blood Hunt called on me for Darla?!" He exclaims. "That's impossible Wes, I would have surely known?"

"It was called off when then newly appointed Master of the Aurelius Order stepped forward and absolved you of guilt in her death. It wasn't a difficult battle when your Childer stood up to defend you and it only added leverage to Penn's position and it was called off. She had broken the Sire Lore enough that it was deemed justified and the matter was struck from the record. It made quite the statement when all of your Childer stood up and offered their support in your name. No one on the Council was willing to face down Penn and Spike especially with Lawson and Drusilla rallying behind them and the vote was only a technicality. There was no one to challenge them."

Angel looks humbled and proud but there's a profound sadness in his eyes at the thought of his Childer defending him but now only one of them remains. "I never knew. Why would they save me?" he looks down at his sleeping Childe and he has sudden insight into just what happened. "It was William wasn't it? He convinced the others."

"He may have pointed out to Penn that you weren't a threat to his position as Master since you were souled so sparing you would have been a good political move on his part. He must have been very secure in his position to move to have you pardoned and showed his deference to the Lore by remaining loyal to his Sire in the old tradition of fealty. It worked to his advantage and several troublesome elements among the other Orders were silenced. Lawson was all too happy to be convinced that leaving you alive was the best punishment. Drusilla just went along with what Spike told her to do and say. Spike holds no small amount of political sway among the Council Nations and some polite arm twisting and whispers in the right ears and you were exonerated. The Council demanded that some punishment be handed down so it was handed down as you know and you were exiled." Wes confirms.

"For a time, before you were restored to your position." Wes hurriedly adds as he realizes that his statement could threaten their cover story. It wouldn't be prudent for Giles to know that it's Spike that technically rules the Order at present; even if he has stated his intention to abdicate to Angel, the transfer of authority hasn't happened yet.

"I can't believe that they protected me." Angel sighs and kneels beside Spike and combs his fingers through his hair. "I'm the world's worst Sire." He moans depressingly.

"Actually Will told me that Darla got that title by a landslide and the Master came in second and the fop pretending to be his Sire Dracula got third. If anything you're only the world's fourth worst Sire."

"Gee, thank you Wes. That makes me feel a whole lot better." Angel replies dryly.

"I don't get what this has to do with anything. So you told Spike to do something and he did it big deal." Buffy tries to brazen out the fact that she doesn't understand anything that's being talked about.

"I say it is rather a big deal Buffy." Giles pulls his glasses off and cleans the spotless lenses. "You don't understand the degree of control to which Angel and Wesley are referring."

"Of course she doesn't, she's too young and inexperienced." Angel replies without conscious thought, only realizing what he's said as Buffy makes a low sound of pain and he grimaces but can't find it in him to apologize for speaking the truth hurtful though it may be.

"I'm not a little girl!" Buffy denies. "I'm a woman and... and... I can do anything that Spike can do!" She swears while trying to look determined and provocative but not realizing that she's just reinforcing what Angel said.

"Drusilla brought William to me as a sacrifice. She took him because she knew that I would see him and want him but that Darla would kill him if I took him for myself. She brought her Childe to me and laid him at my feet as an offering to her God and I accepted him. Spike is my strongest Childe. He's arguably the strongest Vampire in the Order including myself if he's motivated enough."

"What does that have to do with ANYTHING?" Buffy demands. "He's a Vampire and he's strong but so what? I still beat him." She scoffs.

"You've never fought him when he wasn't distracted or vulnerable or injured. You wouldn't win, you couldn't beat Sam and he trained her. He's better than she is so if you couldn't beat her..."

"There isn't anyone that I can't beat!" Buffy denies, crossing her arms over her chest.

Angel's eyes narrow and he feels his ounce of patient understanding evaporating. "Get up." He orders in a tone of voice that has everyone but Wesley and a still sleeping Spike looking alarmed or nervous. "Get on your feet Buffy." He orders again as she sits there and blinks like a startled kitten. "If you think that you can't be beaten then I have a tough lesson for you to learn."

Realization dawns in Joyce's eyes and she looks at her daughter as though seeing her for the first and then turns and meets Angel's eyes and nods once. Spike has explained to her that every Slayer is trained and mentally conditioned to believe that they're the best and that it is that pride and belief that helps to keep them going. She can see that Buffy's pride has become a dangerous arrogance though. If you never believe that you could lose it all then you'll never give your all in the effort to stay alive. Her baby is going to over-extend herself and she'll die young like all the rest called before her. She needs a wake-up call and reality check and it looks like Angel means to see that she gets it.

She doesn't fight Wesley as he herds her along with Giles and Willow into the partially finished observation room. She notes absently as she rubs her temple that Xander and Gunn did a terrific job fixing up the damage frame and drywall. If it had a window it'd look just about the same; not that she has a clear recollection of what it used to look like as they rarely share this part of their lives with her.

Buffy; having finally caught on to the fact that Angel is serious has climbed to her feet, staring at him but the tall Vampire isn't paying any attention to her.

Angel looks down at his Childe and sighs. He does loathe doing it but if he's going to be cruel to be kind, he'll need his viciously skilled Childe's help. Though he's not fully healed, Spike is more than capable of beating Buffy in a one-on-one fight without Drusilla to distract him and neither should his injuries prove detrimental to his skills. Of all of his Childer Spike is the closest to Warrior-born and given the time and space in which to move, his Boy is unstoppable!

"William, Childe of Angelus, Master-Consort of Aurelius, awaken." Angel orders and he's not surprised when Spike's eyes open millisecond later. "Rise Spike, Slayer of Slayers. Your Sire calls you to battle Buffy Summers, a Slayer in the name of kith and kin of the blood."

Spike pulls his knees into his chest and snaps his body into a graceful jack-knife, landing on the balls of his feet in a defensive crouch. His forehead ripples faintly but settles into smooth perfection with no sign of the usually very pronounced ridges that typify a Vampire's Demon aspect. His eyes are frozen pools of blue that blaze at the heart with topaz flashes that solidify into a solid ring of gold surrounding his pupils and rimmed in blue. His fangs drop, the razor sharp tips peeking from his slightly parted lips. His hands flex and his fingernails lengthen a full inch into deadly talon-like claws. One swears that if he had a tail it would be easy to imagine it waving in the air in anticipation.

Giles stares in amazement as Spike arrests his transformation in mid-change! It's the most exquisite example of control over his Demon-half that he's ever seen. The phenomena has been described in third or fourth hand accounts in some of the oldest Watchers Diaries but he thought that he would ever be in a position to see it for himself first hand! The Council has long believed that it was a degree of control that was absent in modern Vampires and the purview of the oldest of the ancient species but here is the proof that contradicts that hypothesis. Spike is arguably one of the most dangerous Vampires ever sired but he's not even two hundred years turned and control such as he shows should be another century or two beyond him. His fingers itch to write down his observations but he's not about to leave and miss anything!

Buffy can't stop the shiver that runs through her as Spike focuses those creepy eyes on her. His stare unblinking and drills straight through her taking her measure, stripping her of her lies and seeing her truths; and finding her wanting in the doing of it. She shrugs off the blankets and kicks them away into a corner roughly and she can feel that laser gaze tracking her every movement and never leaving her. Is this ability to focus beyond any distractions what Angel referred to when he first told them about Spike? She can really believe that he won't stop or be stopped until he gets what or in her case who he is after.

Angel pauses beside his Childe and says something too low for them to hear before he walks into the observation room without another word. He calmly closes the door and walks to join the others in standing in front of the empty space where the window used to be. He notices that Wesley quietly moves to stand just slightly behind and to the side of him; just close enough to dart over in front of the door and block it....

They watch in tense silence as Buffy and Spike stare silently, neither making any move towards one another.

"What are they doing? They're just standing there."

Willow's voice is little more than a whisper but it is as though someone fired a starter's pistol into the uncomfortably tense silence.

Buffy explodes into a flurry of punches and kicks. Not a single one lands as Spike easily evades them, dancing out of range and then back in to prompt her to strike again, only to find that he's not there any longer. He keeps moving into range and out again, never taking his eyes off of her as he tracks every move and catalogues it. His strikes are surgical and devastating, keeping Buffy off-balance and breaking her fighting stride and pushing her out of range to land any hits.

"Bloody hell," Giles breathes. "It's like watching a Mongoose hunting a Cobra." His words turn into a startled shout as Spike finally explodes into a flurry of offensive kicks that sends Buffy hurtling ten feet and crashing into the far wall hard enough to crack the plaster.

Spike doesn't follow her but settles back into his defensive crouch, staring at her and flexing his hands, causing his claws to extend and retract slightly. Buffy climbs to her feet and charges him with an angry shout that becomes a gurgling whimper. Spike calmly sidesteps her rush and wraps his hand around her throat and lifts her off her feet, He snarls and drives his fangs into her throat above his hand and takes a deep draught and tosses her back the way she came like a Rag Doll.

Time and again Buffy rushes; time and again Spike waits and sends her sprawling and waits patiently for her to get up and foolishly do it again. After the twentieth time of being thrown Buffy doesn't get up but lays panting and exhausted on the floor. Spike calmly walks over and straddles her hips and wraps his hand around her throat, His weight, leverage, and free hand easily control her weak attempts at resistance as his hand squeezes slowly. In seconds her struggles become desperate as she stops trying to get him off of her and claws instead at the hand around her throat.

"Good God man he's going to kill her; STOP HIM!" Giles demands urgently, trying to rush past to reach the door only to find it being blocked by Wesley.

"I don't have to stop him; watch." Angel commands him quietly and such is the force of his will that Giles finds himself obeying.

"The only way to win is to be afraid to lose. Keep the edge sharp and cut them if they come too close." Spike says mechanically as he slowly lets up on the pressure around Buffy's throat allowing her the life giving oxygen she needs to live.

"Don't live to fight, fight to live. Keep the walls up, never let them know what you're thinking and they'll never know what you'll do next. Hit the ground running and keep moving, never stop and you can't get caught." Spike intones as he finally releases Buffy's throat and stands, still straddling her and suddenly as tall as a mountain as he blocks out the light above her. "Never, ever forget what you're fighting for, swallow it into your gut, live it, breathe it, achieve it or stand around and watch someone else take what you want, what you need and you end up with nothing."

Spike steps away, his eyes losing their fearful focus and softening as the blue absorbs the topaz and warms to the shade of deepest sea blue and grow distant as though looking at something infinitely far away. "Make them come to you Boy, don't chase them until they catch you. Keep your back to the wall and your fangs at their throat. Never run, never stop; never give up Boy, you're precious to me and no one touches what belongs to me. Make them pay in flesh and blood. Fight until you're dust, never let them beat you, never let see your weakness, never forget that I own you. Fight for me when you can't fight for yourself any longer."

Angel looks on, an unreadable expression on his face. "You've done your Sire proud My Boy. Rest and recover your strength, Sire is near and watching over you; sleep my Precious Boy." He breathes and watches as Spike slowly sinks down to the mats and curls up and lets his eyes close, ignoring Buffy's gasping and flopping as though she wasn't merely feet away.

"Wesley, see if Sam has brought the car around yet and bring me that Mink blanket in the back please. We're going to take Spike home to rest." Angel doesn't stop to wait for Wesley to open the door; though he immediately moves to do it; but vaults easily through the space left by the absent window and walks to crouch beside his once again sleeping Childe.

"What was that he was saying?" Giles asks quietly. "It sounded like he was repeating something he's heard before."

"Old lessons Giles, he was paying homage to his Sire." Angel doesn't bother to hide his smile.

The sight of his proud grin brings Buffy's head flying up to stare at him. "How... how could you do that to me Angel? If he was any better, he'd have killed me!"

Angel doesn't look at Buffy. He doesn't need to see the betrayal on her face when he can hear it clearly.

"If Spike had less skill than he does, you would be dead." Giles announces grimly. "I have never seen such a deplorable display by a Slayer. I've seen potentials in their first year that show more promise than what I've seen in you this evening."

"What are you talking about? I'm not dead, I won." Buffy argues, rocking onto her side and climbing to her knees before forcing herself to straighten her shaky knees and standing weakly, swaying slightly in fatigue.

"Oh, Buffy, you didn't win, you really didn't." Willow wrings her hands together and tries to send her best friend a supportive look but not realizing that she looks more pitying than anything else.

"How did you know that Spike wouldn't kill her?" Giles asks curiously. His eyes widen as an amazing thought occurs to him. "You have some way of controlling him don't you? Is this why you employed Wesley? You've found some way of controlling Vampires is that it?"

"Yes I do." Angel confirms. "It's called a request. I asked him to let her live and he let her. I ask him to do something and he thinks about it for a second and if he's in the mood and it doesn't offend his occasionally very touchy feelings, he does it." He adds dryly. "You're also making a rather big assumption." He points out and turns his head to look towards the doorway and seconds later Wesley appears.

"I'm making an assumption about something?" Giles asks looking confused. "You have some way of controlling the hellion you spawned beyond any Sire and Childe bond I've ever seen. It must be some amazing kind magic to hold a Vampire of Spike's strength in line and prevent him from killing a Slayer when she was most vulnerable. A spell like that would be invaluable in the Council's fight to eradicate Vampires." He states eagerly. "You must share the information!"

Wesley walks over to Angel carrying what looks like a thick sleek-furred coat only it is way too big to be any coat any of them have ever seen. He snaps out the fur and it unfurls into an amazingly plush king-sized blanket only it looks to be made out of dark chocolate fur on one side and soft velvety wheat coloured Velour on the other. He spreads the blanket out; fur side up; and watches as Angel carefully transfers Spike to the center. He kneels to help Angel cocoon their mutual charge into its warmth and comfort as they tuck it around him.

"I believe the assumption Angel is referring to is that I am employed by him. I was engaged by William to assist him in setting the Aurelius Order to rights prior to approaching Angel about assuming his place as the Master of the Order. I am liege-man to William." Wes explains factually; up to the point of concealing that it is Spike that is technically the current Master of the Order. He agrees with Angel's caution in concealing that fact from Giles and the children he's trying to train into Watchers. Joyce knows the truth but also that it's important that no one else; including her daughter and friends; find out about Spike's true position.

"What does that mean?" Willow asks, her brow furrowed in bewilderment.

"Wesley works for Spike, Spike is a member of the Aurelius Order, and Angel is the Master of the Order and ultimately they both are bound to him." Joyce translates without thinking and blushing as she notices the amazed stares Giles, Willow, and her daughter Buffy are aiming at her. "Well, that's right isn't it?" She asks with a shrug. "Spike explained it to me when I asked him about it once."

"Perhaps that is too simplistic but essentially correct." Giles replies sourly. He doesn't like to be shown up by a layman; even if she is a pretty one; he's the expert here.

Wesley glances up angrily. "It's not simplistic! It's succinct and correct." He snaps bitingly but the smile he sends to Joyce is a warm one. "With the death of Penn, Angel's First-Sired and the Master of the Order, the responsibility as Master of the Order fell to William. He knew that he was better suited to be a Lieutenant rather than a General so he started to search for options. We crossed paths and he gave me the chance to do something that no one else has ever done and I accepted on one condition."

"The Aurelius Order, its Masters, Childer, Minions, and Servitors will no longer indiscriminately hunt Humans as other Vampires do." Angel announces and ignores the disbelieving stares from the Hellmouth contingent; minus Joyce that is. "Oh they do hunt, I won't deny or hide that they do, but I think that the world can do without the murderers, drug dealers, rapists, and bottom feeders that they're removing from society. Your kind breeds more than enough to sustain the Order and keep it healthy."

"You're not in the position to play Judge, Jury, and Executioner!" Giles argues.

"Don't be an idiot Giles." Angel snaps. "Every culture plays Judge, Jury, and Executioner to another. Humans dominate the planet and kill plants and animals as they will to claim a few square metres of land and don't apologize for what they do. Do you say that you're sorry for every salad that you eat or steak that you grill or weed that you pull out of your garden? Life is everywhere and something is always feeding off the life or death of something else, it's the natural order of things."

"Plants and animals aren't thinking, feeling people with lives." Buffy argues.

"After all the things you've seen, the people you've met, how can you believe that anymore?" Joyce asks in surprise. "Your friend Oz is a Werewolf, as much animal as man and Phaedra's people can speak to plants and animals as easily as I'm talking to you." She points out logically.

"Policemen can kill if they or their superiors feel that it is justified to save further lives. Soldiers kill enemy soldiers if they're sent into battle. Life comes and continues from death; that is the way of things. Phaedra's people have a deep understanding of nature and its cycles and they better than any race understand that it is neither kind nor cruel; it simply is what it is. Something must die for something else to live. A plant grows and it is consumed by a rabbit, the rabbit is prey to the wolf, the man kills the wolf to wear his fur or protect his food supply and in time the man dies and returns to the soil and enriches it for the plants to feed and grow from. They don't see Vampires as monsters but as predators with their place in nature." Wes chimes in to explain, sitting beside his friend's blanket swaddled form.

"This is not a theological discussion group or a philosophy class at the moment. What you mean to say is that SPIKE was the one who started the changes the Aurelius Order has undergone but why?" Giles wonders aloud and looks distinctly nauseated.

"It's a matter of survival. More people are becoming aware that there's more to intelligent life than humans running around and much scarier things than the imaginary monster in the closet too. Vampires never set out to hide from humanity. It simply wasn't a consideration since anyone that did find out about us was either drained or working for us. It's surprisingly easy for dead men to keep the secrets that they know." Angel explains matter-of-factly. "We can't evolve like humans do. Our bodies are formed by millennia to be shaped as we are for a purpose but we must change more than appearance if we're going to continue to survive in the modern age."

"Oh, oh I get it!" Willow exclaims excitedly. "A Drone Fly mimics the look of a Bee to try and throw predators off and some Preying Mantises look like leaf litter to fool prey into coming closer. Vampires have evolved to mimic their chief source of food to facilitate hunting right?"

"What the hell is this 'Wild Kingdom'?!" Buffy exclaims.

Angel's lip curls in derision. "Where is Sam? I want to get Spike out of here." He announces and leans forward; intending to slips his arms under his Childe and lift him.

"She was going to put down the rear seat and make up a pallet for you and Will." Wes answers. "She's parked in front of the alley since I assume you'd rather carry him out with a minimum of people gawking at the sight. We can take him out safely through the back door and circle around to the alley on the other side by the Dry Cleaners."

"You're not going anywhere until I get some answers! Let Wesley take that waste of space you sired if he wants him but you're staying here Angel." Buffy announces. "You can screw your boy whore another time. I want to know what you're planning to do in my town."

"Spike isn't a whore and I don't screw with him." Angel snaps, standing with his precious burden. He waits as Wesley helps him adjust Spike until his head is supported properly against his shoulder. He smiles as Wes gently swaddles the blanket around the sleeping Vampire in his arms, knowing that Spike prefers to wrap himself up in layers like a rolled cigarette or a butterfly in a cocoon.

Buffy looks very pleased. "At least you have that much common sense." She states approvingly. She knew that her Angel had more sense than to get involved with trash like Spike.

"I haven't earned that yet." Angel adds nodding to Wes and jerking his chin towards the hallway leading back to the other hallways and the back door. "It was good to see you again Joyce." He ignores Buffy's apoplectic expression as her mouth opens and closes soundlessly.

"You as well, Angel.... Is William really going to be okay?" Joyce replies, looking at an uncomfortably still Spike sleeping deeply in his Sire's arms.

"He'll be fine. Buffy didn't hit anything vital like the bone or tendons. He'll be healed within an hour or two but he'll sleep until then. Healing so quickly taxes his reserves and he won't be able to do much but rest until the process completes." Angel explains. "I don't want to leave him here on this dusty floor...."

"It's not dusty enough." Buffy mutters with a pout.

"If anything at all happens to William while he's in this cursed town and I'll withdraw the Order and you can deal with the thousands of Demons just waiting to raze this town to the ground." He swears as he holds Spike tighter, only relaxing marginally as his Childe whimpers faintly at the squeezing without waking up. "That's my good boy Will. Sleep and let Sire take care of you." Angel praises in a breathy whisper that only his boy can hear. He wants his heart to beat just so that it can stop again as he feels Spike turn slightly and curve into his hold and clinging there.

"Let's go Wes. I want to get my Consort somewhere safe." Angel lets his gaze rest focused on Buffy as he speaks at a volume clearly audible to all of them. Wes nods and leads the way out without further word and he follows him silently.

Buffy watches him leave and feels her heart breaking again. Watching him leave after they destroyed the Mayor was agony enough. Watching him leaving cradling one of the most vicious Vampires in history like fine China is so much worse.

"Giles, what is a Consort?" She asks flatly, staring at the empty space where Angel was just standing. "What does he mean when he calls Spike that?"

"Well I say...." Giles trails off and pulls off his glasses and cleans them thoroughly and considers how to answer his Slayer's question. "You have to understand Buffy that I've recently been informed that much of what the Council has learned over the centuries is either patently false or deliberate misinformation tailored to mislead us. I know what the Council believes a Consort to be but I'm afraid that Mister Wyndam-Price would be in a better position to explain...."

"Tell me what you know Giles." Buffy orders snippily.

"The Council has identified several relationships that can or do exist between Vampires. Servitors are non-Vampires that are either bound by blood, intimidation, or even paid to assist a Vampire. The best known example of a Servitor that you might be familiar with is Renfield from the literary stories and unfortunately the Movies. Servitors can be any species but typically Demons that can best mimic humans are preferred for their ability to not draw attention. Humans are rarely afforded the responsibilities of a Servitor due to their relative weakness compared to other Demons but most Orders of any appreciable size and age will boast a small core number of them."

"Well that's definitely different than the Movies. They make it seem like the 'assistants' are always human so they can do things during the day." Willow quips trying to break the tension in the room.

"There are in fact many species of Demon that are outwardly indistinguishable from Human Beings and of course there are always the half and quarter bloods to consider." Giles reveals.

"Humans can have children with Demons?" Buffy exclaims, shocked into questioning. Does that make them half-Demon and evil or does it make them half-Human and is she supposed to protect them? Why did her life have to get so damned complicated? Demons are bad and Humans are good; it was all so easy before. She knew who her enemies were and she didn't have to stop and think about it.

"There are some species that can in fact only have offspring with a Human." Giles replies.

"And they probably explode or get eaten by the spawn inside them like in the movies." Buffy mutters.

"Actually that can't be right." Joyce interjects and shrugs when they all turn to look at her. "Well if it happened like that; at least a lot; than it would be impossible to keep it out of the public eye. There'd be a media circus over all the bizarre and gruesome deaths that are happening." She points out.

"You're right Joyce. Most Demons that need to reproduce with Humans actually court them as Mates and in some cases for life. Their offspring are born essentially human and will occasionally remain so while others will take on the demonic aspects of their Demon parent. Because they need humans to continue their species many form some attachment to their Mates and some never know that the children they've bourn are anything but human. There are more than a few species that even mate monogamously with their human mates for the life of their partners."

"Why just for the life of the partners? Why don't the bonds last for all of their lives?" Joyce asks picking up on the turn of phrase that Giles used that implies it was distinctly one-sided.

"Nearly every half-breed Demon has a lifespan that eclipses the one afforded to humanity. It's rare that a half-breed will be outlived by a human partner though some do practice a form of ritual suicide at the loss of a bonded mate." Giles explains before moving on.

He continues on with his lecture. "Enforcers are exactly what they sound like and they're usually a member of one of the more dangerous Demon species. It's also interesting to note that occasionally Vampires from other Orders will be hired or conscripted by varied means to be Enforcers but they're never Servitors. Servitors and Enforcers are both ranked low in the hierarchy but are roughly equal but most enforcers are obeyed out of sheer fear. There have been scattered instances of enforcers that have been elevated to exalted positions but that is very rare."

"So they're like mercenaries, big whoopee." Buffy proclaims sounding bored.

Giles rolls his eyes and continues. "Minions are the next and you're familiar with them and they're always the lowest breed of Vampire usually sired by the Master that they're in service to. However every Minion is instinctively submissive to any Vampire of higher rank that belongs to the same Order but their first loyalty is always to the Master that sired them. Minions are disposable soldiers, cannon fodder if you wish to call them that. Their Sires have little to nothing to do with them after a very brief blood exchange that forms the bond that ties them to their Sire. It's common for a Sire to not even remain in the vicinity for their rising. Most are met by fellow Minions who will then escort them to their Sire."

"Are Minions always created by Master Vampires? You keep saying Master so I was wondering." Joyce asks, comparing what Giles is saying to what Spike and Wes have explained to her. Not to mention what she's observed on her own by watching her friends interacting with members of Spike's Order.

"There have been cases where Minions have sired others of their kind but in most cases the attempts fail because the power in their blood is too diluted to create others. On the rare instances they do succeed it is not what they were probably expecting when they did it. A Minion can't impose its will on another Minion so they have no control over any Vampire they do manage to create and a Minion can only produce another Minion. Given their already competitive nature they will only become another rival so it's rarely done." Giles answers as he tries to smile charmingly at Joyce.

His expression falls slightly as she seems to be oblivious to his minor flirtation and continues. "Concubines are fairly rare in the modern age and only the oldest and strongest Vampires of the old age are known to make a habit of having one or several, Marcus Aurelius the Master that founded the order that Angel and Spike belong to was rumoured to have had a harem of over a hundred Concubines of varied species. It's rarer still to find a Bound Concubine and you could equate the position roughly with the human idea of marriage. Bound concubines are Vampires in extremely rare instances. Bound concubines are almost always members of another species."

"What difference is there between a Bound Concubine and one that isn't?" Willow asks.

"Pretty much what it sounds like Willow duh? One is tied up and one isn't." Buffy snorts.

"That's close enough in theory in practice however.... A Bound Concubine is the life partner of a Vampire, tied to them through regular exchanges of blood and... and... favours."

"Giles means sex." Buffy translates with a grin as Giles stumbles over saying the words.

Giles ignores her and goes on. "A Vampire will only have one Bound Concubine or if they have a Vampire Mate they will never have one. You'll never find a Vampire that has both."

"Why is that Giles?" Willow asks.

"When a Vampire takes a Mate they become vastly more possessive and they would actively try to kill any rivals to the exclusion of all else. If a Vampire tried to keep a Mate and a Bound Concubine or really any Concubine at all, the Mate would kill them. Childer, they are next on the list; the Vampires chosen by their Sires to be their companions through eternity. We're not sure what the exact mechanics involved in making a Childe as opposed to a Minion and there are varying opinions on the topic but it's accepted that a Sire will protect or avenge a Childe should they be in danger. Spike was sired by Drusilla but it was Angelus that was his physical Sire and he maintained very strong blood-bonds to both of them while he was un-souled...."

"What is a consort Giles?" Buffy interrupts Giles to ask again making it clear that she's only interested in hearing the answer to her question and not a lecture series.

"Consort isn't so much who as a what. It's a title of respect reserved for the Master of an Order's use alone. It's conferred to their chosen partner as a show of respect. The Consort is the usually the Mate of the Master of an Order but not always and they're usually either the Master's Childe or in some way closely tied to their bloodline. The Consort is usually but not always the designated Heir of the Order but I think that it would be safe to say that they're considered the heart of the Order and sit at the right hand of the Order's Master. In most Orders their words are treated as though they were spoken by the Master similar to a how a Regent would rule in a King's stead."

"So is Spike Angel's Heir or his Princely Whore in black leather?" Buffy mutters still not understanding how much of a threat Spike is to her relationship with Angel.

Joyce's hand flashes out and closes on Buffy's arm and pulls her closer. "That's it Buffy, you and I are overdue for a long talk about your behaviour. Get your things, we're going home!"

"Mom, I can't go anywhere, I'm the Slayer and I...." Buffy argues loudly.

"This is a place for adults right now not children with foul mouths and worse tempers." Joyce counters and gives Buffy a little shove towards the doorway. "GET YOUR THINGS."

Her raised tone must have been enough to assure Buffy that she was serious because she drops her eyes and shuffles out of the room silently.

"Willow, we'll be leaving tomorrow morning at seven sharp from our house so get there early and let Xander know. I want to get an early start and I need to stop in LA briefly to pick up some commissions that I need to deliver on our trip. I'll speak to you later Mister Giles." Joyce leaves the room to fetch her troubled daughter for their past-due talk.

Willow wrings her hands nervously as she watches Mrs. Summers leaving. "Boy oh boy is Buffy ever gonna get it Giles."

"It's well deserved. Her behaviour this evening has been deplorable and she was an embarrassment to her calling. We may not agree with their methods but we need Angel and his connections to prevent a war and Buffy's attitude has him on the edge of abandoning this town."

"He wouldn't do that Giles, would he? I mean Angel is one of the good guys now." Willow moves over to lean against Giles, her arm snaking around his waist and pouting as he fails to put his arm around her despite her obvious hints that she wants him to hold her.

"Angel isn't the Vampire we're familiar with Willow. He was a loner and his love for Buffy assured that he would do as he was asked to do if it would safeguard her. That's changed now. Angel is the Master of one of the oldest and most venerated Orders and he has responsibilities. And he has Spike."

"Why do you seem so fascinated with Spike?" Willow snaps as her eyes flash angrily. "You've had us researching Angel's movements since he left Sunnydale non-stop since he showed up but it's not him you're interested in. It's Spike! You want to know how he ended up back with Angel."

Giles clamps his hand on her jaw, forcing an end to the gathering tirade. "Keep your voice down Girl." He orders implacably and tightens his hand in silent warning. He deliberately gentles his hand and slides it up to cup Willow's cheek and traces his thumb along her jawbone. He hides an arrogant smile as the girl presses into his hand like a small kitten demanding attention.

"Yes Sir, I'm sorry Sir." Willow obligingly replies as she lowers her eyes. "Spike is the reason why you wanted me to find everything on the Childer Angel sired isn't he?"

"Buffy is no longer a reliable means of controlling Angel and using his skills for the Council. He's changed the rules on us by resuming his relationship with Spike as opposed to pining for Buffy. We need him to return to his business in LA before Wolfram & Hart becomes suspicious."

"He doesn't know that he's been working for the Council all along and every case that he's had is one we've given to him for the express purpose of putting him at odds with them does he?" Willow asks.

"That's a stupid question Girl. If he knew that he would never have cooperated with us on this Initiative matter. He may well have learnt that the Council has been keeping him under surveillance from Wesley but he hasn't made any move to confront us about it. I find that interesting. Angel is a resource that we can't afford to lose control of. The Council was very clear on that and they won't look kindly on anyone that costs them a souled Vampire much less the one that rules an Order like Aurelius."

"If we get Spike out of the way Angel will take Buffy back." Willow suggests shyly.

Giles doesn't bother to hide a disgusted grimace. "It has become apparent to me that Buffy is no longer suitable for her position. Her performance in this matter has been sub-standard and a disgrace to the Council. She would have been replaced already if another Slayer were available to take her place. Spike will be a more reliable means of manipulating Angel."

"They are planning to kill Buffy? Giles, we can't let them kill her! There has to be another way!"

"There are some rare spells and rituals that can remove her from the Slayer line without killing her but they take up tremendous resources to cast. Termination is usually the preferred method for Slayers that can no longer perform their duties to expectation. You're not strong enough yet to cast the required spells and the materials for the ritual are very expensive and rare. Buffy isn't aware that I've already informed the Council that she's been compromised but it's my duty as her Watcher to report my conclusions. They won't make any decisions about her dispensation until the Slayer activated by Faith's death is found and brought in. You know that Willow, we discussed it at length only last evening."

"I've been practicing as much as I can Giles but it's difficult to find the time for the longer rituals when Buffy or Xander are always interrupting me...."

"Excuses are the mantra of a failure. If you're not strong enough to cast the spells I won't have a chance to convince the Council that they should let Buffy live. I've managed to collect over half the things we'll need for the ritual but without having a Witch strong enough to cast the spell, they'll never agree to it and they won't use up their funds to pay someone to do it. You've become distracted and lost sight of your responsibilities Willow. I'm very disappointed in you. It's my fault. I forget that you're still a girl and not fully grown yet mayhap I am asking too much of you."

"No Giles, you're not; I can do it I swear that I can. I'll work a lot harder on it. I'll take the journal that you had me copy with me on my trip. It will be a good chance to study it while Buffy and Xander are off sightseeing or doing whatever it is they do." Willow swears earnestly. "I did manage to cast one of the simpler charms in the book, something called the Clouded Eye. I can come over tonight and we can... practice... in private."

Giles hides his impatience and feigns an impressed expression. That spell is the simplest one of all in the journal and Ethan could cast it by the time he was ten. He may have to rethink his plans for Willow. "You know that would be beyond foolish when we're surrounded by Vampires. Buffy and Xander may be easily fooled but I assure you that Angel, Spike, and their fanged cohorts aren't going to be as easily fooled. You'll stay away from me until they're gone. Keep practicing and remember this is our secret. Buffy doesn't handle sharing my attention very well and she'll be angry if she finds out that I'm mentoring you and not concentrating solely on her."

"I'll never tell Giles." Willow promises looking up at him adoringly.

"Very well Willow. I'll trust you to keep your word. Gather your things and go home. You're to be at Joyce's home early and I expect you to keep reporting back to me on Buffy's condition." Giles pulls the crystal vial of medicine out of his pocket and hands it to her. "I'm going to give this to you; make sure that Buffy takes all of the doses in full and on time. If she continues to act out the Council may decide to throw caution and good sense out the window and make a rash decision before they find me my new Slayer." Giles orders imperiously as he shakes off Willow's hold and gives her a not-so-very gentle push towards the doorway.

Willow looks like she wants to argue but he quells it with a warning glance and she lowers her eyes and leaves without an argument much to Giles' secret satisfaction. Contrary to his excellent performance he's been aware of Ethan's passing for some time. The agonizing pain caused by the severing of the ties he didn't know were still connecting them was more than enough to assure him that his paramour; abandoned though he was; was dead. Learning the exact circumstances from Spike of all people has filled him with a thirst for vengeance that will not be sated until the Initiative is destroyed.

He hears the sound of soft chimes muted by distance and knows that Willow has followed his orders and left as he directed and he smiles in satisfaction. Though he's had some moments of misgiving her progress overall has been satisfactory and she has been managing not to blow the cover that the Council has carefully crafted for the young woman.

The Rosenbergs have been invaluable as freelance researchers for the Council and their cover as University Professors is an excellent cover for their covert travels on behalf of the Council and their dedication is above reproach. Such is their loyalty that they've been grooming their daughter practically since birth to achieve something that eluded them; a coveted chance to attend the extremely exclusive and competitive Watchers Academy. While admittance is usually reserved for members of a few select families; and members that can trace their bloodlines to them; the occasional exception can be made. It's very rare as admitting someone from a new family is also adding a new family to the 'acceptable' roster of Watcher Bloodlines. If Willow succeeds in her aspirations to become the first Rosenberg to attend the Academy, any children she may bear would also have the opportunity to attend. He hasn't decided whether or not to encourage and help her on her way to her goal or if he should keep her close and encourage her dependency on him.

He knows that Willow has no idea that the journal; carefully and creatively edited with painstaking thoroughness by him prior to her ever seeing it; was Ethan's when he was a young man. Contained in its pages are the first fumbling than self-assured experiments that would chart the course of one of the strongest Chaos Mages in the world. As his slide into shadow and eventually darkness was slow but progressive he can foresee that Willow's slip has begun as well. If he has calculated her potential accurately in time the curvaceous redhead will match if not eclipse the abilities of her Mentor; even if she doesn't know that it is Ethan.

The Initiative may have stolen Ethan away from him but he'll see to it that his legacy continues and in time perhaps Willow will take Ethan's place in other ways as well. There are matters of more concern to him at the moment and he looks around the training room and marvels that the room looks almost undamaged; only the missing window is the clue that something violent happened within its walls.

Xander can be surprisingly efficient at such 'handyman' jobs and the stranger Gunn seems to have been of some help as well. Wesley's mastery of magic was a surprise and not altogether a pleasant one but he could sense the power sleeping in the younger man. The former Watcher will require observation on his part. He could be a formidable ally or a treacherous enemy but it may be to his advantage to keep him closer in either case. There's truth to the adage of it being wise to keep one's friend close but enemies closer.

Giles ponders the events of the last few days as he returns to the front of the store. He does a quick walk-through and sees that he's alone and exhales slowly in relief as he flips the 'Open' signs to read 'Closed' and locks the doors. It only takes him a few minutes to balance the cash drawer and fill in the accountancy ledger and a few more to update the inventory database and he sighs in regret for Anya's absence. She may be a blunt pain in his behind but she runs the shop with an almost military efficiency and with a genuine talent for making money. He's recouped over five hundred percent of his investment in the shop already. He'll have to see what he can do to entice her back to keep his investment growing.

He finishes by closing the blinds tightly and closing and locking the heavy gauge theft gates with the thick padlocks and pulls his glasses off and closing them he slides them into his shirt pocket. He sighs in relief and rubs the bridge of his nose. He wonders if anyone is ever going to catch on to the fact that he doesn't actually need glasses to see and that they are in fact made from simple glass and aren't prescription at all? It's an affectation that has served him well in his guise as a mild mannered librarian.

Giles chuckles over his fanciful turn of mind as he reaches into his pocket for his keys. His brow furrows as he pulls out the neatly folded square of silk from his pocket. He moves it to his free hand and reaches into the pocket again and pulls out his keys. He remembers wiping off the spots of Spike's blood that was on his shoe and after a few seconds he puts the keys back into his pocket. The blood may give him the chance to do a little spying without getting caught. Thinking back to the training room he's positive that there must have been some magic involved to get things that clean and it had to have been Wes that cast it. A deliberate attempt to make sure that all of Spike's blood was removed and therefore not able to be used for exactly the purpose he intends? It was a swift and wise move but he was distracted and didn't notice that he'd used his handkerchief to remove some of Spike's blood from his loafers. With a thoughtful expression on his face Giles replaces the silk square deep into his pocket for safekeeping and pats the pocket while he thinks.

He mentally reviews the books he has in stock and after a brief hesitation he moves up the short staircase to the upper level and follows the line of bookcases to a doorway protected by a heavy wrought iron gate locked with a heavy chain that holds a thick metal bar in a special slot and secured by a heavy combination lock. He spins the dial and opens the combination lock and pulls the chains through and removes the bar and sets them aside. He doesn't open the metal gate immediately but pauses to intone a spell under his breath. He counts to five slowly and only then does he open the gate and step through into a small room that's barely eight feet by eight feet. Three of the walls are lined with metal bookcases, each one protected by a padlocked chain-link link security gate soldered to hinges on one side. These are the prohibited volumes; the stock that he's deemed too dangerous or easily abused to be displayed in the bookcases on the main floor.

It takes his mind only a moment to provide the location of the book that he needs and within minutes he has it and the prohibited section is once more locked up tightly and the magical wards back in place. He pauses to place a strong ward on the book itself before heading for his office and setting it on his desk. His special briefcase; a gift from the Watchers Council to every Field Watcher; is sitting right where he left it. It too is protected by both physical locks and magical wards so it takes him a few moments to open it and safely seal the book inside. Some magic is just too dangerous, powerful, or rare not to take precautions; even if it sometimes seems to be over-kill. Some books can be very dangerous all on their own because the power needed to cast the spells inside are trapped within the very pages that hold them; such is the case of the volume he's selected.

Confident that the book is secured properly, it takes his mind only minutes to recall the exact ingredients he'll need to focus the spell that he plans to use. Having an uncommonly retentive mind is a definite plus as he retains much of what he reads for a surprisingly long time. It was an advantage that he used for all it was worth in competing with the other Senior Watchers for the coveted position that he holds.

An hour later he's pouring in the freshly made Vervain, Yarrow, and Myrrh oil that he's mixed in a mortar and pestle into am oil pot. It's the last thing that he needs for the Astral Projection spell that he is planning to use to spy on Spike, Angel, and their cadre of closed-mouth confidants. He wraps the pot in bubble wrap and sets it into the linen shopping bag that he's been preparing and he mentally reviews the contents. Oil of Vervain, Yarrow, and Myrrh; check; leaves from an Aspen, Flowering Almond, and Ash trees; check. He opens two small herb envelopes containing Red Pepper Flakes and Ground Mistletoe leaves; check. He opens a small pouch and removes a medium sized Topaz, Fire Agate, and Quartz Crystal; check. A second bubble wrapped pot yields resinous incense in equal parts Galbanum, Olibanum, and Frankincense. Hand-dipped candles in sky blue, red-gold, and purest white are wrapped neatly in packing paper; check. That's everything as he has the rest at his apartment including a censer, Athame, and a small cauldron. He learned long ago to keep the rudimentary materials around just in case. It won't take him very long to set up and cast the spell once he gets home.

Giles eagerly gathers his things and heads for the back door with a lightness in his steps that would probably shock anyone that was around to see him acting so eager. He pauses at the back door to turn on the alarm system and lock the heavy door and security gate that protects his shop before heading to his car with a grin. He can't wait to see what he'll find out!

The drive home is uneventful and he hurries inside and immediately sets to work. It takes an hour and half to get everything ready and he's careful to make sure that he's locked every door and window. He takes the precaution of warding every door and window on top of it as locks don't always stop someone on a Hellmouth from coming in; especially Willow.

Once the altar is set up to his exacting standards, he opens the book he brought from his shop with reverent hands. He can't help but lean forward until his nose is hovering over the page so that he can inhale the scent of richly oiled hide. He doesn't bother to hide his shiver of pleasure or the low grunt of satisfaction as he lightly rubs the pads of his fingertips along the edges of the book. It's a pleasant weight where it rests heavily on his lap and his hips flex in reaction and drive a growing erection up against the thick leather cover. He flips slowly through the pages; knowing exactly what page has the spell he needs but refusing to rush the process.

He finds the page that he needs and sets the book down reverently in the arms of a small stone idol that is actually a cleverly designed bookstand. He triple checks his preparations, occasionally reaching out to move something minutely until it suits his practiced eye. Three tall candles, one purest White, Sky Blue, and a deeply vibrant Reddish-Gold sit in matching marble candleholders shaped like open Lotus Blossoms.

Shallow trays made from creamy white-veined dark marble, sit at the base of each candle and hold charcoal disks with small chunks of resinous incense centered on each flammable disk. A large golden chalice sits near the center of the meticulous altar with three small groups of items mounded neatly on rice paper in a half-circle in front of it. In front of that is a double-edged Athame, the black leather wrapped handle gleams faintly under its sheen of conditioning oil and arcane symbols have been carefully branded into the dark leather. A tall pillar candle made from almost clear beeswax rises behind the chalice and illuminates the small wooden riser with three small figurines of a Sphinx, an Ibis, and a blood red Horse, sitting atop it.

Off to the side is the small crystal bowl of water, a salt cellar, and the small leafy fronds of Aspen, Flowering Almond, and Ash, carefully threaded together by Raffia ties still gleams with moisture from the cleansing ritual he has already performed; after his personal cleansing in a bath of fragrant herbs and flowers and prior to casting the circle. He's alerted the Quarters and called them and after a few moments of meditation he shrugs out of the silk robe that is his only clothing and sets it aside, careful not to break the circle that he's cast. He arranges himself comfortably and begins the ritual from the book by memory, though his eyes glance occasionally at the book as a precaution.

He uses the tall Beeswax candle to light the pure White candle and sets it back in its holder. He uses the White candle to light the Charcoal disk in front of it and melt the resinous Frankincense and releases its distinctive scent into the air.

"Isis, Divine Mother of Magic and Protection; grant me the strength to transcend this mortal body and free my spirit of the flesh that it might float freely and arrow straight to the steel of my will. I beseech your strength to protect this mortal form that I may return to the temple of my body." He intones beneath his breath, repeating it as he lifts the small bundle of Ash leaves into the flames of the white candle and set them alight and places them in a chalice on the altar. He uses the square of white rice paper to tip the small mound of ground Mistletoe into the flames flickering in the bowl of the chalice. As the flames reach their pinnacle he drops in the clear Quartz Crystal.

He uses the tall Beeswax candle to light the Sky Blue candle and sets it back in its holder. He uses the Blue candle to light the Charcoal disk in front of it and melt the resinous Galbanum and releases its distinctive scent into the air as he did with the Frankincense.

"Thoth, Great Scribe, Bringer of Learning and the Holder of Secrets; grant me the knowledge that I seek. I beseech your wisdom to guide and return me in safety and to hold back the veil of lies that would sully your gift of clarity. Let no lies blind me, let no wrong lead me astray, and may no ignorance fall upon me." He intones beneath his breath, repeating it as he lifts the small bundle of Aspen leaves into the flames of the Sky Blue candle and set them alight and places them in a chalice on the altar. He opens a small glass vial and pours in the Oil of Vervain, Yarrow, and Myrrh one at a time until the air is full of their fragrance. As the flames reach their height once more he drops in the Topaz.

The tall Beeswax candle lights the Reddish Gold candle and returns to its holder. Giles pauses briefly as the heady aroma of the fragrances filling his senses briefly make him dizzy. It takes only a moment to regain his self-control and use the Red-Gold candle to light the charcoal disk with the resinous Olibanum and release another layer of scent into the charged air.

"Brigit, daughter of the Dagda, Holder of the Bright Flame; grant me the ability to see beyond the physical and through the darkness by your eternal light. Let this blood be a bridge and carry my eyes beyond any wall and into the place where no boundary lies. Warrior Goddess, Divine Poetess; carry me in your illumination and warm me in the frozen sea of the Ether and carry me safely home again." He intones beneath his breath, repeating it as he lifts the small bundle of Flowering Almond leaves into the flames of the Gold candle and sets them alight and places them in a chalice on the altar. The small square of rice paper delivers a sprinkling of crushed Red Pepper flakes that cause the flames to dance in a mad sizzle briefly as the flames lick up the side of the deep chalice. As the flames flare brightest Giles drops a Fire Agate into the flames at the heart of the chalice.

As the flames flare like a small Nova, he drops in the bloody handkerchief with Spike's blood and it is consumed utterly in a mad passion of destruction as though the fire were only waiting for the chance.

"Isis, grant me transcendence from this mortal body and set my spirit to flight. Thoth, grant me the knowledge and free my mind from ignorance. Brigit, carry me on your light and grant me The Sight." With the final word, the flames in the chalice flare with an earthly light and die abruptly into nothingness leaving an empty and pristine Chalice. At that precise moment the words on the page of the book he had open flare with the same unearthly light and slowly fade until nothing is left but a blank page.

Giles doesn't see the amazing occurrences as his eyes stare sightlessly ahead, his features lax and completely still.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Spike awakens to moist warmth, the softness of bare flesh beneath his cheek, and the caress of a gentle hand through his hair. His half-hearted struggle to try and sit up is tenderly quelled with implacable hands. His eyes open to billows of warming steam and the sight of his Sire looking down at him affectionately. He recognizes the Sauna in the small pool house of Cordelia's childhood home and he sighs.

It's a little known fact that an injured Vampire will heal faster in a warm, moist environment and it is much more comfortable as it soothes the aches and pains of rapidly healing muscles. It's for that reason that every respectable Chantry always has a sauna and preponderance of spas, tubs, and other sources of warmth for the comfort of its members. Spike relishes the warmth; having a lower tolerance for its chill than other Vampires and a strange malady he somehow inherited from Drusilla who shared it.

"Shhhh, lie down and rest." Angel suggests, his hand sliding down to rub the skin between his shoulder blades soothingly. "Put a little more water on the stones would you Wes?"

Wes obliges and uses a wooden ladle to pour some water on the hot stones and billows of steam bloom up immediately, warming the air in the Cedar sauna. "How are you feeling Will?" He asks as he crosses the distance to sit beside Angel, completely unconcerned that he's as bare as a newborn babe; except for a brief towel around his hips; and sitting beside a pair just as sparsely clothed.

Spike holds back a grimace of pain and slowly turns over, grateful for the hands that reach out and gently help him. Wes guides his legs until they rest over his lap and Angel helps him adjust his position until his head is resting on his lap again, his shoulders and neck supported by a powerfully muscled thigh.

"I'm fine." He assures the pair of Mother-Hens hovering over him and it's the absolute truth of it. The wound is almost completely healed with only some residual deep muscle aches left to mark its presence. "How is Sam?"

"She's just fine. Buffy gave her a few bruises and scratches but they've healed up already. Phaedra checked her over before she gave her a sleeping draught to make sure that she rests safely through the night. She asked Wes to use the chains as a precaution so she'll be contained for the night. Phaedra gave her the medicine WinterOak prescribed to ease her mind." Angel reports; rubbing his shoulder in soft, sweeping circles. "What happened with Buffy...?" Angel trails off. "Is that that it was like for Sam before WinterOak found a medicine that would help her?"

Wes sighs and shakes his head sadly. "Sam's episodes were more pronounced and protracted and saddest of all in her case the damage is permanent and her psychosis manifests to a much more dangerous degree. Miss Summers was violent but it was a focused form that for whatever reason she directed it towards Sam personally. As angry as she was she didn't try to hurt the boy or her other friend when they were holding her. If that had been Sam, we'd have been picking up body parts." Wes admits. "She probably wouldn't have killed Will since she's bonded to him so closely but she certainly would have inflicted damage when he tried to stop her from hurting Gunn or those kids."

"She'd have killed them?!" Angel exclaims in surprise as Spike and Wes look sombre as they nod. He knows that Spike and Wes have been telling him all along just how much damage the Initiative had done to Sam but somehow it never quite struck home until now. "How can we leave her here when we go if that's a possibility? I know that it's not her fault that she has these episodes but it would kill her if she ever hurt someone because of one. She spends how many nights out of the month chained up?"

"It varies, she can be fine for months and then suddenly have a bad spell and have to be sedated and chained twenty days out of the month." Wes admits then looks perplexed. "Haven't we talked about this before?" He wonders aloud.

Angel looks sheepish and the unaccustomed expression almost makes Spike laugh. "I suppose that we have Wes but I just can't seem to get my mind around the concept. Sam is one of the sweetest women I've met and it's obvious that she adores Spike and that she depends on him for comfort. It's hard to imagine her as a raving homicidal maniac out to kill everything that crosses her path."

Realization dawns on Wesley's face. "Sam isn't a maniac at her worst moments. She's reactionary but still somewhat aware of her surroundings. She wouldn't for instance just start slaughtering anyone she came across unless they tried to hurt her or did something that she perceived as an attack. She would have attacked Gunn and those kids if they had tried to get in her way but if they stayed back, non-combatant if you will; she would have left them alone. We know them though they would have tried to help and she would have seen them as a threat and acted accordingly. Demons however are in more danger when she 'switches' to a hunting mode as she can't always distinguish harmless from dangerous."

"If she's exposed over a long enough time she does begin to form a bond of sort to Demons that she spends a lot of time around. I don't think that she'd go after you but let's not test that soon." Spike comments. "In time she'll accept you as one of her own but it's a delicate balance and you always have to be aware that the possibility is there that she may unintentionally cause harm."

"That's why the Order is housed in the secondary Chantry instead of at the Manor." Angel nods as he figures out something that has been bothering him. "Having that many Vampires around constantly would make her worse wouldn't it?"

"It would be impossible for her to relax around that many even if she did see them all as no danger to her and the stress would probably cause aggravate her condition in Winn's estimation. It was decided that the best course of action would be to keep Sam near William since he's the only one that has a fighting chance to keep her from hurting anyone. The Order established a second Chantry with Phaedra's help and they moved there. It's more efficient since the Order is growing and we've found it necessary to build additional outbuildings to support the changes we've made. Fledglings are kept contained in a special facility while they're Elders and Sires train them." Wes explains. "A Fledgling isn't released until their control over their Demons is firmly established and the Aurelian Lore is deeply ingrained into both their Demon and their Human halves."

"Aaron is doing an excellent job as Regent." Angel admits feeling slightly worried that he won't be as skilled in managing the Order as Spike or even Aaron seem to be. "Your girl Rona is a sight too; she'll be a Master within thirty years. Speaking of Rona, I've been meaning to ask, what actions were taken against Dracula for his deeds?"

Spike sighs and looks disgusted. "There wasn't much that we could do at first since he'd started the process of turning Rona before we got there. Her Watcher was already dead and she was in the process of changing and they were outside our jurisdiction as an Order as far as our seeking retribution for their deaths. That Poncy Bastard abandoned her before rising though which left her a Foundling so Aaron and I were given leave to intercede. We bound her by our blood to Aurelius and Aaron took her as his Childe to Sire as his own. Dracula didn't know that Rona was a potential Slayer in training and he was livid when he found out the prize he'd thrown away and tried to petition the Congress to have her returned to him. He didn't have any recourse for the claim and it was denied almost immediately and Rona was formally declared a member of our Order, with all the rights and responsibilities inherent as a Childe of the blood. It really pissed that fruity Bastard off and he occasionally shows up and tries to woo Rona back to him but she hands him his ass every time!"

"I've heard that Erick is very fond of the young Lady and is working up the nerve to ask his Sire's permission to take a Mate." Wes confides with a huge smile that brings out answering smiles in Spike and Angel.

"She is a great addition to the Order. She'll do us proud if my instincts are right." Angel agrees, threading his hand through Spike's hair and smiling as the soft curls and waves springing up in the steamy room grab playfully at his hand. "She's unusually strong for her age; like you were. I expect that she'll make Master early but not as early as you did. You're still the youngest Master on record I think."

"There are occasionally other Vampires who claim to have made Master rank earlier or the usual boasts by proud Sires but none of the claims have stood up aside from Will's so he retains the distinction." Wes confirms. "The next youngest was a forty-three year old Childe from the Tepes Order but they regularly try to claim that younger Childer have managed it but they have all failed the Master Trials when they've been put to the test. It's little wonder why the Order is slowly going extinct under his direction. If the old stories are true and the true Dracula sleeps, there won't be anything left for him to wake up to."

"The stories are true." Angel surprises them by announcing. "The Master said that he knew Dracula but denied that the Vampire running around with the name and chasing after Spike in Paris was the same one. Rumour has it that the eldest Childe of the line inherits the name as an homage to their Progenitor and that there have been many Draculas through the centuries. It's been almost six hundred years since the true Dracula walked among our kind. I've seen some of The Master's own collection of books in our library and I know that several contain passages concerning the Tepes in more depth."

"That's fascinating!" Wes exclaims. "Do you mind if I look through some of the older texts...?"

Angel chuckles. "You're the Steward of the Order Wesley." He reminds him. "You're welcome to look through any of the texts that you want. If we didn't trust you then you wouldn't have the position that you hold in the Order, so do you as wish. There are Elders among other Orders that may have more firsthand accounts of the Tepes Progenitor."

"Ask Anya." Spike chimes in with. "What?" He asks noticing the surprised looks from Wes and Angel. "She may be human now but she wasn't always." He reminds them. "She's probably a thousand years old so she may know something about him or have contacts that do. She was one of D'Hoffrun's Clan and he was old when the first humans were infants so he may know the truth of the old tales."

"That's brilliant." Wes replies with a grin. "I'll have to talk to her about it when we get home."

"You'll have the time to spare." Spike confides. "I don't think that she's planning to come back to the Hellmouth. When I talked to Rona earlier she told me that Anya was asking Clem if it was possible for him to arrange for some movers to help her get her things. I think that she's going to end up living with Tara and helping her with the children."

"Phaedra told me that Anya was talking to several artists and artisans among her people about the possibility of opening a gallery and selling their work on commission." Wes admits. "I think that it's a fine idea. I know that they'd sell well. The creations of the Fae races have always had particular appeal to humankind and it would be easy to disguise them as 'fantasy art' without anyone raising too many questions about it."

"Would they have any interest at all in human money?" Angel wonders aloud.

"They wouldn't have any use for it at home but since our arrival some do occasionally choose to visit the humans for a time. Demon Girl has a great head for business so I'm sure that she could set up some sort of a fund for the money to go into. They're used to living in a cooperative society and they have little vice left in them so selfishness isn't a problem that they have. They'd love the idea of a fund that all of them could have access to if they chose to visit the humans for a time. As fascinating as humans find them so they find the humans interesting too and they would enjoy some of the things that these people can provide to them. I brought back a box of ©Twinkies with me once and I almost started a riot." Spike comments with a snicker.

Wes chortles at the memory of the borderline riot that broke out over the sweet treats. "He's not kidding! That was the closest I'd ever seen them come to fighting amongst themselves! We still have to buy the occasional truckload a few times a year to keep the peace."

"They love ice cream and coffee too." Spike comments in a vaguely distracted tone that isn't missed by his protective observers.

"Is there something wrong Spike?" Angel asks as his eyes instinctively begin to flicker around looking for anything that poses a danger to his Childe.

"Rona is coming and she has someone with her that I don't recognize." Spike replies as he taps a fingertip against his temple and nods with his chin towards the heavy glass door that seals off the doorway.

"She has the mind talents like Dru?" Angel asks in surprise but then he silently slaps himself on the forehead with his hand. The Tepes Order is known for the depth and variety of mental gifts that its member possesses and while Rona may be Aurelius now, the Tepes blood would have naturally left its mark too.

"She hasn't been formally trained so her gifts aren't honed but she does have a telepathic gift to a low degree. Aaron and I can 'hear' her best because she is blood-bound to us both and when she's nearby she sometimes accidentally projects what she's feeling or sensing to us. I don't know the scent of the one she's bringing to us because she isn't familiar with it." Spike explains rolling gracefully and rising to his feet. The towel loosely clinging to his waist gives up just as gracefully and pools at his feet but he's comfortable in his body and pays it no mind as he pads naked to the door and throws it open.

Angel gapes and jogs after him, sweeping up the fallen towel along the way while holding on to his own with a cautious hand. He can hear Wes padding silently behind him as they follow the darting blond.

"Catch!"

That's all the warning Angel gets as a thick Spa robe is suddenly flying towards his face. He snatches it out of the air and smiles as he notices that it is dark grey rather than the usual blinding white. He sees a second one fly through the air to Wes and he shrugs into it and ties it tightly. A shimmy of his hips loosens the towel beneath the robe and his pools around his feet. He leans down and picks it up and carries it along with the one he swept up and drops it into a laundry basket set in a nearby corner.

Spike slips into his own robe and scowls. The hem of the robe nearly cascades over his toes on his slightly shorter frame rather than stopping above the ankle like it does for Angel and Wes. He surreptiously blouses the robe slightly over the belt until the hem is higher. If it should happen to cause the crossed front to gape open and frame his sculpted chest to best advantage well that's just a happy bonus.

"Will we have time to change?" Wes asks, tightening the belt of his robe even more and tucking the front in more securely and crosses his arms over his chest.

A quiet knock is the answer as a familiar voice floats through the wood clearly. "Milords we have a problem," Rona pauses before continuing. "And a rather reluctant 'guest' to entertain ahead of schedule." She reports sounding calm and confidant with just the tiniest hint of panic.

"Does he know where he is; who has him?" Wesley calls out.

"He's unconscious and has been since the scouts found him in a cave near the edge of town. I had him blindfolded as a precaution before he was brought to us. There was sign of a struggle and several other soldiers were found dead nearby and it looked like they were attacked on patrol. The scouts couldn't find any evidence of what attacked them. The woods are full of Demons and the scents are heavily layered and the only prints were made by military boots." Rona reports through the door.

"How badly injured? Do we need to be calling one of the Healers?" Angel calls out.

"No Milord; I don't believe his injuries are that severe. It's likely that he has a moderate concussion and the rest are cuts, scrapes, and bruises that are well within our ability to tend. He was starting to show the signs of regaining consciousness when I left him with some Minions to report."

"When he awakens; have him taken to the dining room and have a meal prepared for him if he wishes one. Put a guard on every door until we decide what to do with him. We'll be along in a few minutes and Rona?" Spike calls out.

"Yes Milord?"

"He's your responsibility. I want him confined but not abused in any way until we say different."

"Yes, Milord; I understand. I'll have a suitable room prepared to confine him and clean up his injuries. I'll tell the others not to torment him and treat him as a guest unwilling though he may be."

"Excellent Rona, you've handled things very well, we're very pleased." Angel calls out.

There's a pregnant pause and then a soft reply. "Thank you, Milords. It is an honour for me to have found my purpose in life again. I am proud to be Aurelian and I bless my Sires every day for taking me in. All hail Aurelius; blessed are the warriors that have spilt their blood upon the sands."

"All hail Aurelius; blessed are the warriors that have spilt their blood upon the sands." Angel, Spike, and Wes all reply, taking up the ancient saying that has long been part of the Aurelius Order back into its origins on the sandy floor of the Coliseum in ancient Rome.

"I'll attend to my duties." Rona announces. Even Wes can hear her footsteps heading away from the indoor pool, spa, sauna, and lounge area.

"Could you tell who it is that she was talking about?" Wes asks curiously.

"Only one person it can be." Angel announces.

Spike nods without turning his head to look at them. "It has to be that Miller bloke that I had a watch put on. We were planning on capturing him anyway even if we hadn't planned on it this soon. I think that's what she was referring to when she mentioned being ahead of schedule. Plus his scent is mixed with hers and I can smell Finn; it's muted but it is there. I can't recall if Finn's scent had any of this other fella mixed in. I was just thankful that I didn't have to breathe in his scent for that long."

"Well we do know that Mister Miller is supposedly close to him so it's not unlikely that their scents are mingled. We'll have to cover his disappearance...." Wesley looks at his companions.

"They may assume that whatever attacked those other soldiers dragged him off." Angel points out. "They'll probably assume that he's dead like the others."

"You two talk to him and see what you can find out. I'll take a few of the boys and go check out the area they found him in. I may be able to tell what we're dealing with." Spike suggests.

"I think that you should take Rona, she's one of the strongest...." Angel starts to say.

"I think that he should take you." Wes interrupts to say. "You two are the strongest fighters that we have and if this thing took out a squad of soldiers, it's extremely dangerous. They've taken down some of the most deadly Demons; fool's luck or skill whichever; so if this one had them sending out a squad after it, they must have been nervous about their chances of bringing it in."

"We've deliberately held back any of the uncontrollable species in favour of the humanoid varieties to keep a low profile. I don't think that this thing is one of ours." Angel offers.

"It's possible that they've angered one of the rogue Demons and it's going after them. Some species have no hierarchy or structure; it could be one of those. We'll need to track it before they do."

"They weren't ready for whatever it was that got them and they don't know that their men are dead yet. They didn't go looking for it; it found them." Spike mentally reviews what little they know and surmises.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Wesley asks in surprise.

"If they were missing an entire squad they'd be swarming through this town like Army Ants looking for them and whatever they were hunting for so they don't know that they're missing yet. If they were hunting for something that dangerous; they'd surely be required to check in regularly and since they haven't mustered out...." Spike explains.

"It's safe to assume that they don't know that they're missing and that they don't know that whatever got them is in town like you said." Angel finishes his thought. "That makes sense."

"It also makes sense for you to stay here with Wes." Spike adds throwing up a hand and stopping the arguments that he can see building up to explosions of sound and fury. "You said it Wes. Angel and I are strongest fighters that we've got and all the more reason not to make both of us easy targets. I'm going to be nosing around on one of the Initiative's patrol routes. If they somehow manage to get me that will leave the two of you free to get me the hell out of there. Plus as much as Wesley may be gaining respect among the Orders, he doesn't have the weight behind him that we do. If the Initiative were to snag us both, he couldn't keep them from swarming this town and ripping it and everyone in it apart. At least one of us has to be here to talk to Soldier Boy and the fangs make a real impression."

"That is a sensible precaution." Wesley has to admit and by his expression it's reluctantly.

"I think that I liked it more when you leapt before you looked." Angel comments dryly but his long drawn out sigh signals that he sees the logic of not putting all of their eggs, or fighters, into the same basket. "I'll have to insist that you take Rona and Wesley if I'm staying. Rona is strong and Wes they won't see as a threat because he's human." Angel glances at the former Watcher. "More fool them since he'll royally kick their asses. Get in look around and get your butts back here."

"Yes Milord Angelus." Spike quips with a grin and a jaunty salute that has Angel sputtering and Wes snickering as they file through the door.

They climb the stairs and separate at the hallway and filter into their suites, Angel and Spike go right and Wesley left as their rooms are across from each other near the corner of the large house.

Angel dresses quickly with a minimum of wasted movement and watches as Spike stands from his seat on the chest at the end of the bed and stamps lightly to set his feet into his boots. The thick soled boots aren't as heavy as combat boots or as inflexible as motorcycle boots but they're imminently suitable for fighting. His dark jeans are worn and faded to the softly muted bluish black that you can only find in the most comfortable pair of jeans that you own. The holes worn through at the knees, one thigh, and provocatively at the curve of one sweet cheek on his rear are almost too perfectly placed to be incidental. His sleeveless muscle shirt is clinging to his sleek but well formed muscles and the dark blue cotton reflects in his eyes turning the Cerulean blue into deep Indigo. He shrugs into a calf length duster that's too dark and looks too new to be the one that he's used to and he realizes that this is the first time that he's seen Spike in a duster. Spike's duster always fit his svelte frame surprisingly well but he can tell that this duster fits him better and almost looks tailored.

"That isn't your old jacket is it?" Angel asks. "Did something happen to it?" There's an expression on Spike's face that he's never seen before and a shiver of alarm twitters down his spine.

"Some things aren't meant to be permanent and should find their way to where they belong," Spike replies enigmatically. "And to whom." He adds under his breath as he adjusts his left sleeve over the wide wrist cuff that all of them wear. He looks up and sucks in an unnecessary breath. His brain knows why Angel earned his nickname but sometimes his eyes can be slow to catch up and it's like he's seeing him for the first time all over again.

Angel stands looking coolly intimidating in his black leather half boots, tailored black wool trousers and dark grey Cashmere sweater. The sleeves are neatly pressed up to his elbows baring his powerful forearms. His wrist cuff is in place on his right wrist and platinum and onyx Rolex is on the other. The ring fingers of both hands sport single rings. The simply engraved silver Gryphon signet ring that all Aurelians wear upon achieving Master rank is in place on his right hand. His left bears the heavier and far more ornate Silver and Onyx ring of the Master of the Order. It's designed in such a way that the Onyx eyes of the Gryphon carving flare with sparks of dark fire as the slightest movements cause the light to hit different facets of the expertly crafted ring.

"You'll be careful." Angel cups Spike's shoulder and kneads gently. It's not a question and it's clear that he isn't saying it as one. "One hour and then I want you back here."

Spike cups his hips lightly squeezing as he nods. "I can take care of myself you know." He feels compelled to add. "I've been doing it for a long time."

"You've had to take care of yourself but now that's my job. I know you can handle it but let me worry and brood over it. I'm good at it." Angel advises with a half grin and a self-depreciating shrug.

"So you are Pet." Spike agrees, rising on the balls of his feet and rubs his cheek along Angel's jaw and almost purring as his Sire returns the caress without hesitation.

Affection turns to a surprised groan as Angel turns his head and strikes as fast as a cobra and drives his fangs into the vulnerable skin of his throat. The bite is a brutal pleasure and he knows instinctively that it's going to scar even as he feels his skin stretching and pulling as it heals around the sharp interlopers. It's a marking bite he knows and he doesn't need to have a reflection to know that it has eclipsed his old marks. What shocks him more is the brief flash of pain as Angel jerks his fangs free of the healed bite only to wrench his head to the other side and a second ecstatic agony flows through him as the fangs sink into him again. He shudder and whimper softly as the pressure of the fangs sinking deeper still makes him wonder if Angel's going to bite straight through his neck.

The sting of unshed tears has him pressing his eyes tightly shut as he realizes the importance of the second bite and he knows that Angel is overriding the marks from Drusilla's siring him. On the surface it's a primitive gesture of dominance but between Sire and Childe it's a covenant that is sacred. For the Sire it is a promise of safety, care, and the promise of knowledge and the training a Childe needs to become a Master of the Order. For the Childe it is a complex web of promises that human words could never define much less truly understand.

"Keep away from Finn; I don't like the way he looks at you. Steer clear of Buffy and that Watcher of hers too. He was too interested in asking nosy questions. He's dangerous."

"He's no threat; just another Watcher as blind as the rest and bound to the biased 'truths' in those diaries they're so fond of. As long as they believe the misdirection and lies to be true they'll always be weak and easily led and we'll have the advantage over them. Unlike them we're not trapped wearing blinders. I agree that Giles is dangerous but I'm not sure if it's because he's a Watcher or in spite of it."

Angel's head rears back in alarm. "Did you pick up on something?" He knows that despite his reckless reputation Spike's observational skills and the ability to analyze and figure out people is unequalled.

"When I heard that there was a Slayer in town that could be a threat to Dru, I made it my business to study her. Deal with a Slayer and you're dealing with their Watcher too so I made a point of learning all that I could about the man. Like you taught me when I was a fledgling and just learning to hunt, success needs preparation. I watched your little Slayer for weeks, learning her moves and looking for weaknesses that I could use. I studied the Watcher as well and I expect that I know some things that he'd rather I didn't know." Spike replies with an unrepentant grin.

"So give me the quick rundown on Rupert Giles, Watcher-not-so-extraordinaire." Angel suggests as he slides his arms around Spike's waist and pulls him closer until their bodies are flush together.

Spike relaxes his muscles and lets Angel mould him against him with a silent sigh at the comfort to be found in the familiar hold of his Sire. Despite the years, it's the one memory that has sustained him through the trials he's faced as the Childe of a mad Sire and abandoned by his Grand-Sire and reviled by his Great Grand-Sire. Angelus may have been a cruel taskmaster and a genuine Bastard but without that motivation he probably wouldn't have survived long. Contrary to every written account of Angelus in the Watchers' blatantly biased library of works, Angelus had a softer side that was held strictly in check outside the locked and bolted doors of their lair.

"The Watcher was a bad boy when he was a young buck." Spike starts to say as he leans his weight against Angel's side and unsurprised when the larger Vampire takes his weight without complaint. He murmurs faintly as Angel's hand sinks into the short hairs at his nape and flutters against the sensitive skin and he shudders faintly at the familiar caress. It was always the method Angelus preferred to gentle the occasional maniac rages and episodes that are typical of Fledglings in their Order.

The edge of awareness is sharpening to razor clarity before he realizes that he's lowering the barriers in his mind and releasing the gifts his Demon has granted him. He almost purrs at the content he can feel radiating from Angel in gentle undulations of satisfaction. The occasional sharp peak of anxiety mixed with a little fear and uncertainty doesn't alarm him but instead it seems to be prudent while in this Slayer-Haunted town.

It's the razor edge of rage that catches him by surprise.

His confusion is momentary but profound as he opens the floodgates in his mind just a touch wider and his eyes narrow as he stiffens against Angel; who looks at him in alarm as he feels his muscles coiling beneath his skin in surprise. That anger isn't coming from Angel but way too strong in a room that looks empty aside from them. He may not see anyone else in the room aside from Angel but there's no doubt that there is someone else there and they're not pleased.

"M' buachaill?" Angel asks in a worried tone as his eyes look around for what's caused Spike to react like he is. He can't see anything dangerous but on the Hellmouth seeing doesn't lend itself to believing.

"Talking about the Watcher bores me. I should get moving before the Initiative finds out what happened to their squad and we're forced to move our plans forward before we're ready." Spike replies, turning to place his hand over Angel's stilled heart. "I'll be careful." Spike promises as his fingertips flutter in a seemingly random pattern of taps against his chest. The movement is deceptively simple on the surface but information is being passed silently between the former hunting partners. He schools his features into passivity as Angel's eyes narrow as he nods slightly. Message received and understood.

"Go and get Rona and let Wes know that I'd like to see him and Phaedra if she can leave Sam for a few minutes. Who else are you planning to take with you?" Angel asks in feigned unconcern as he drops his arm from around Spike.

"Aside from Rona, I'll take Mahalia, Rigel, Dominic, and Lukas." Spike replies. "Lukas and Mahalia were the first of the Order to arrive and they've been here the longest so they'll know how to avoid the patrols and move around without being spotted. Rigel is in charge of the Minions that have been keeping an eye on the Initiative and no one understands their procedures more at this point. I figure that she'll be able to tell us how they'll react before they do. Dominic and Rona are strong fighters so we'll be well covered for just about anything that we run into." He promises and Angel looks relieved as he nods his approval.

"Fighting is the last resort Spike. If you can run than I want you to move as fast as I know that you can and get back here." Angel orders. "You're right you need to get moving so I'll talk to Wes."

Spike nods as he turns on his heel and heads for the door. "Run if the running is good, got it."

"Stay away from that Bastard Finn!" Angel calls after him, as he follows him out the door and they separate in the hallway and jog down different directions.

Angel is just about to tap on Wesley's door when it opens and he steps out and almost hits him. "We've got a problem." Angel announces unceremoniously. He catches Wes on the bicep and propels him back inside his suite and quickly closes the door behind them.

Chapter Twenty-Five

It's a silent and serious group that silently returns to the former Chase home an hour later. Spike motions and everyone but Rona quietly files off to their rooms or other evening duties and she follows him to the dining room. It's no shock to find their unwilling 'guest' sitting with a wrist cuffed to the arm of one of the heavy Mahogany dining room chairs. A pair of beefy Vampires are looming nearby but back near the wall and out of the way. Wes and Angel are sitting in chairs across the table and visibly relax as they see that they've returned from their errand safely. The table is showing the remains of a meal in front of Wes and their captive and Angel is sipping from a mug.

"You must be Mister Miller." Spike states smoothly as he stalks silently around the table as he strips off his coat.

The man is startled and looks suspicious. "Who are you?" His movement to stand is brought up short by the cuff around his wrist.

Angel scoots his chair back and crosses his arms over his chest and the warning is apparently clearly seen and understood as the Soldier quickly sits back down. He nods in satisfaction as the human gives in and he relaxes back into his chair and smiles at Spike as he walks behind his chair. His arm snakes around his waist and pulls the unresisting blond closer and the younger Vampire slides his arm to rest across his shoulders.

Angel tightens his hold and gently directs Spike to the arm of his chair and the blond makes himself comfortably. "This is my Childe Spike and my name is Angel." Angel nods to his right with his chin. "Our Steward, Wesley Wyndam-Price." He introduces as Rona silently slips into the chair next to the captive. "The lovely lady is Rona and she'll be in charge of your care while you're here."

"You can't keep me here, the Initiative will find me and you'll all be taken in!" The Soldier swears.

"The tracker implant was found and removed before you got here and I'm sure that it was disposed of properly." Wes comments glancing at Rona; who nods solemnly.

"My squad is still going to report me missing and they'll tear this town apart looking for me!"

"Your squad is quite permanently dead. Whatever you ran into didn't leave much intact and it will take them a month to identify all of the bodies; assuming they can find all of the parts." Spike counters.

Miller's face falls as he learns the fate of his friends and squad-mates. "What about Forrest?"

"If he was with your squad he's dead too. You were the only one that survived." Rona reveals. "We couldn't tell who most of the bodies were; there were things... missing."

Miller flinches visibly and he quakes in reaction for several seconds before he pulls himself together and forces himself to sit up straight and tall in his chair. "You have to let me call my superiors before more people are killed."

"There haven't been any wholesale slaughters in town so it seems to me that the only ones being killed are your Toy Soldiers so something is doing us a favour." Angel replies coolly. His expression warms visibly as he looks at Spike and Rona. "What did you find out?"

"Whatever got them didn't leave much trace of itself behind. They must have found one of the hunting trails because there were the scents of maybe a dozen different Demons in the area. It is going to be tough finding out what happened there but none of the Demon scents that we picked up and could identify fit what we saw there. It was hard to track much with the scent of the corpses and the Scavengers had gotten to the bodies by the time we got there so they scattered everything even more." Rona admits.

Spike nods his agreement. "There may not be anything left for the Initiative to find in another hour or two. Whatever it was that took them out, bullets didn't stop it. There were hundreds of spent rounds and from the Ozone smell I'd say they tried Tasers with little success too. There were a few curious wounds that we couldn't quite account for on some of the bodies. The damage was significant on all of the bodies but some of it looked to be deliberate and almost surgically precise. One of the bodies was missing several fingers but they looked to be disarticulated with the knuckles intact. That isn't typical of a feeding or fighting injury. I checked for tracks but those men didn't go down easily and everything was trampled beyond all hope of finding anything I could track when I don't know what I'm looking for. There is one thing that I'm sure of. Whatever it was that got them isn't a Demon I'm familiar with."

Angel and Wes are both surprised and alarmed by that revelation. Spike is well-travelled and has come across hundreds if not thousands of species in his better than a century of experience.

"We sure as hell don't need a rogue running around mucking things up." Angel mutters darkly. "Have everyone keep their eyes open for any unfamiliar Demons in town. If someone spots it, I want it brought to us immediately by whatever means necessary."

"Barring that; I think that it should be killed." Wes counters with. "It's already forced our hand in regards to Mister Miller here and we don't need any more surprises to deal with."

"I agree. Rona could you....?" Angel starts to say but he's interrupted as Spike stands.

"I'll let Rigel know." He offers and silently stalks from the room and through the kitchen door.

"What do you want with me?"

Angel hides his momentary flash of approval as he can barely hear the threads of panic and fear in the young Soldier's voice as he tries to brazen out his situation.

"We want you to tell us what attacked you for a beginning." Wes states, leaning forward in his chair to fold his palms one over the other on the table in front of him as he pushes the remains of his meal aside.

"We were on a routine patrol for hostiles when I picked up something strange on my equipment. I didn't see it. I was on point and I was following a curious heat signature and I looked down at my thermal imager for just a few seconds and something hit me and I heard screaming and the sound of fighting. Then something hit me again; it felt like a freight train; and everything went dark. I woke up here and that was it. I never saw what attacked us."

"It did look quick. Whatever it was that attacked them it managed to knock one out and kill three others within a very short amount of time if none of them managed to call for help." Spike agrees as he sweeps back into the room. Instead of returning to Angel he nonchalantly leans against the edge of the table beside Miller's chair and wisely enough on the side he's cuffed on. "Phae is on her way down to deliver this one to Winn. They're ready for him." He reveals quietly and deliberately obtusely for the Soldier's benefit. Let him worry and fret over what his fate is going to be like his Brothers must have done.

"I don't want her to be in any danger. Have one of the medics come down and knock him...." Angel trails off as a sharp crack interrupts him and Miller slumps over unconscious.

Spike calmly pushes off the edge of the table and unclenches his fist with a quirked brow. "You always gotta make things more complicated then they need to be." He notes in amusement.

Angel stifles an amused grin and feigns annoyance as he shoots Spike an exasperated look. "I want him searched thoroughly and doubled cuffed and you'd better tie his feet too and carry him. You two will be accompanying Phaedra and Rona back with him. If he tries to escape, I want him alive if possible; but death is going to be preferable to having him running around free." Angel directs to the two heavily muscled Vampires against the wall and they dart forward eagerly and wrestle the Soldier's dead weight out of the chair easily.

They're understandably less than gentle as they drag the unconscious man from the room but a warning growl from Rona has them letting up marginally as she trails them from the dining room.

"There's something seriously weird going on in this town and I don't mean the Hellmouth," Spike says seriously as he looks at his Sire and friend. "Something took those Soldiers apart and it wasn't to eat them and it didn't look like random damage either. It looked like something harvested parts and threw away the rest. I think one of their little pet projects has gotten out and its come looking for its pound of flesh; literally."

"Do you have any idea what we could possibly be dealing with here?" Wes asks looking worried.

"Its big, its mean, its violent, and its after the Initiative but eventually it is going to go after anything that crosses its path when its done with them." Spike answers honestly. "I was able to pick up the scent of the Demons that had been around but none of them alone would have been capable of killing those men. There would have been less reason to mutilate the body and carry pieces of them off."

"Do you think that they can be convinced to work with us instead of against us?" Angel asks.

Spike thinks for a few seconds and then shakes his head. "From what I saw, we can't trust whatever it is not to turn on us too. I expected to feel more than I did there. A violent passing; much less three who went down fighting for their lives; usually leaves an impression but there wasn't one."

"Is it possible that their deaths were just too fast? Maybe there wasn't time?" Wes suggests.

"They didn't die easily Wes and they were trained soldiers. It may have been possible to take out one or even two but all three and knock out the fourth and not leave time for a single call for help? That doesn't seem possible does it?" Angel offers. "Maybe the thing doesn't have emotions?"

"It's an accepted fact that some Demon species are so alien to our dimension that they don't fit into our understanding. Maybe one of them has somehow made its way here." Wes hypothesizes.

"That wouldn't explain why they're going after the Initiative." Angel points out.

"Unless there was more than one that came through and those Bastards hurt it or worse." Spike interjects. "If there's another than we may be dealing with a Mate, Parent, Sibling, whatever, on the warpath over what happened to the other one. We can only guess at this point."

"What's your take on Miller?" Angel asks as he leans back and steeples his fingers under his chin.

"Repressed, obsessed, and possibly possessed in some fashion." Wes fires off in bullet fashion.

"So a typical Initiative Soldier then." Spike states dryly and the other two chuckle at the apt statement. "I think a better question is where Finn is? The last I heard Miller and that Forrest bloke were members of his squad and from the dog tags I found none of those bodies were Finn."

Wes pulls out his cell phone and makes a quick call. "This is Wes. Do you have him? You have visual confirmation? Okay I want the watch maintained around the clock so arrange for a few of the servitors to spell you during the day; very good and well done." Wes terminates the call and closes his phone. He answers the questioning looks from Angel and Spike. "I assigned a few of the Minions to watch Finn specifically." He admits. "He's in his apartment and he's been there since the club and they've gotten visual confirmation that he's there and has been there. It's too dangerous to get much closer so there's no information on why he's at home and not on duty."

"Could there be some sort of residual effects from what happened with Spike?" Angel asks.

"It's possible from what I saw. Finn is highly susceptible to the pheromones and neurochemicals that Will's body produces and that means he's unusually sensitive to his psychic influence as well. There's no telling how he'll react to the stress under the circumstances." Wes shrugs. "It works in our favour though if he is incapacitated for while and out of our way."

"There's more going on here than the Initiative. I'd bet my fangs on it." Spike states in a flat tone.

"Wolfram & Hart is involved so nothing surprises me. They're capable of anything." Angel replies with a dark glowering expression. "The observation teams they had watching Buffy and her friends have been dealt with but as soon as we leave they'll be right back again."

"Speaking of watchers...." Spike starts to say.

"That's been dealt with but I have to admit that it was a clever attempt and it would have worked if you were any less aware of the emotions around you. No direct harm was intended so the wards didn't register it as an attack and block the spell. Phaedra and I reinforced the wards to preclude it from working again and added a little extra to the banishment spell. He's going to have quite the headache when he wakes up." Wes answers with a pleased grin. "He won't try it again."

"Why did he bother to try it at all? He had to know that he was taking a big chance." Angel argues.

"He didn't think that we'd catch him and sadly he's probably right. Phaedra and I didn't cast the warding spells to stop everything because it takes a lot of power and a single spell that strong would have attracted attention from anyone sensitive enough to feel it. The best thing to do was to cast them to prevent harmful and malicious intent. We've strengthened them...." Wes says.

"Phaedra, I need you!" Spike shouts loudly, startling both Angel and Wes.

"What is it, what's wrong?" Angel shouts, looking around frantically.

Phaedra arrives within seconds, her eyes glowing dangerously as the silken layers of her draped skirt settles into gentle swirls around her legs. Despite her haste she looks calm and unruffled.

"There was a fight a few miles from the University campus and we didn't find many clues to what happened but there were witnesses. Would you mind seeing if the plants can tell you what happened?"

Phaedra smiles at Spike warmly and inclines her head respectfully. "I shall try Young Master." The tall and willowy Hamadryad drifts from the room. Angel turns his head to look at Wes and Spike in silent inquiry.

"She has to meditate for a time to enter the state of altered consciousness required to commune with the natural world." Spike explains. "Plants don't possess the same sort of senses or intelligence that people do and sometimes they have their own unique view that doesn't always translate well to our perception. It takes time and a lot of concentration and she can better do that without us there. She'll tell us what she finds out but it will probably take several hours."

"Time is a human concept." Wes adds. "It doesn't always mean much to other forms of life. A year to a rock may as well be a century or ten."

"Rocks can talk?" Angel's amazed expression has Spike chuckling and Wes fighting to hide his smile.

"To Phaedra's people just about anything in nature has a 'spirit' of a sort though not all of them are intelligent and they can communicate with them. She's tried to explain it to me but it's difficult for anyone that can't do it to understand it." Spike admits.

"Is every plant intelligent?" Angel wonders out loud.

"According to Phaedra it varies. Older plants are usually more intelligent as the passage of time lends them wisdom but that it also depends on what kind of plant it is. Trees are usually the wisest and most intelligent as centuries can pass for them with little change. A flower is by its nature less so since its entire lifespan can be only days or in some cases hours. Some plants have natures according to their variety too. A Narcissus is vain and will usually only reply to questions that please their sense of vanity and a Weeping Willow has a personality like follows its form and it is in a perpetual fugue state."

"I had no idea." Angel admits but he looks like someone has just told him that Leprechauns and the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow are real.

"Most myths have their basis in fact but time has distorted the truth until it is lost and people think that they were just stories. It's only gotten worse since movies were invented." Wes adds. "When we handle things here I'm sure that Phaedra wouldn't mind taking you on a tour of her people's lands and introducing you to some myths."

Angel grins happily and nods, "I'd like that." The grin fades into serious contemplation. "How soon will we be ready to move on the Initiative?"

"I've called Aaron and pulled him off his assignment to arrange for an accident to cover Miller leaving town. Under the circumstances it's redundant since they're going to assume that he's dead along with the others in his squad." Wes reports. "I've had him divert directly here and he expects to arrive in three days at the most and the last of the allied clans should be here by then as well so I estimate four days."

"Rona pulled off Miller's tags and she still had them and I left them where they should be found when they find the others. There was enough blood spilled that they won't be able to do any conclusive DNA tests to prove he's not in pieces somewhere. I get the feeling that whatever it is that got them is something that they damn well know is out there. From the gear that we saw that wasn't a normal patrol. They were out looking for something specific and it found them first." Spike offers his report.

"Maybe one of their experiments has gotten loose like we thought?" Wes replies.

"Did it escape or was it let loose as some sort of test?" Angel wonders out loud.

"It doesn't matter much in the end does it? We're going to have to kill it either way if its this violent. What was done to those men is just inhuman." Spike denies.

"What if they're like Sam and it's through no fault of their own?" Angel asks; surprised by Spike's apparent lack of sympathy given his affection for Sam.

"Sam can be violent and I know that she is more than capable of killing when she has an episode but she doesn't torture and harvest body parts for whatever reason. Whatever this thing is it is insane and I don't think that we can trust the lives of the Healers to trying to help it." Spike argues. "They'll try because that's what they do but I'm not going to send them in when I know that it's too dangerous."

"I think we can all agree on that point but do you think that it is that far gone...?" Wes asks but he blanches and pales abruptly as Spike turns so that their eyes can meet. "Alright, it dies."

"I'll attend to that myself." Spike vows.

"You don't know what you'll be dealing with or how to kill it." Angel points out.

"Killing something is a lot easier than trying to capture something alive. Death is easy, fist, fangs, sod else and keep ripping until it stops moving." Spike counters in a flat tone.

"We need to figure out what we're going to do about that little astral eavesdropping Giles tried to pull as well. Are we going to let it pass without remark?" Wes asks with a sour grimace.

"Are we sure that it was Giles? Willow isn't without some power when it comes to magic too." Angel asks. "It could have been her? Or even some witch working for Wolfram & Hart?"

"Once Spike keyed to the fact that we had a spy, the alterations that Phaedra and I made to the wards showed the magical signature clearly enough. It was definitely a man and with no small reservoir of personal power and we could see the residual traces of the spell. It was actually a fairly simple astral projection spell with a fairly clever cloak of nature magic that almost hid the conductor of this orchestra of mistakes from us. He had to have used some sort of token from one of us to focus the spell but luckily for us it would have been consumed during the casting process so he can't use it again. I cast the cleansing spell on the training room so it must have been something he'd gotten his hands on before that."

"What sort of things are we talking here?" Angel asks looking disconcerted.

"It can be almost anything that one of us has touched but usually the more personal the better. It could have been one of our drink glances from the club; saliva would be an excellent focal conductor or something that he managed to take from us. It could be almost anything; even a stray hair would do it." Wes explains with a shrug. "He could have been doing almost anything while we were preoccupied with Will's injuries and dealing with Buffy's episode."

"Is there anything we can do to stop him from just getting something else and doing this again?" Angel asks seriously and with a less than pleased expression on his face. "I don't want to worry that he could just peek in on us at home or anything. I'm not comfortable being his nightly entertainment."

"The wards in place around Phaedra's realm are older than time and vastly stronger. They were the method that the Fae species used to seek shelter from humanity's predations and they're still the first line of defence against any human incursions. They've naturally made it as difficult as possible to get to them even to the point of altering the very fabric of their existence to make it hostile to humankind. Those wards were created and placed to keep humans out and only the friends of the Fae are granted permission to visit pass the barriers much less live among them. I am absolutely sure that he'll never find a way around them and that if he should ever try it will be more than noticeable. Stronger wizards than Giles have tried to breech the fae wards without success. It's unlikely that a Watcher past his prime and a young woman barely starting college are going to change that." Wes assures Angel.

"There's more to it." Spike surprises them by adding. "The magic he used may have been simple but didn't you feel how dark it was at the core, where he was feeding the energy for the spell?" Spike's eyes flicker to Angel and then away. "He may be on the side of the angels now but a Devil rode him pretty hard to get there and it has left its mark on him. It is not as dark as what I felt around Ethan Rayne but it is close; maybe too close for us to ignore."

"Ethan Rayne was possibly the strongest Chaos Mage on the planet. Do you think that Giles could be one as well?" Wesley asks looking shocked and alarmed. "Chaos Mages have been hunted to extinction by the Watchers Council."

"But Chaos Mages are usually human...." Angel is aghast.

"The Watchers Council doesn't consider them human since they traffic willingly with Demons for the power to cast their spells." Wesley explains and looks surprised when Spike snorts in derision.

"That's not why they hate them so much." Spike denies. "The Council isn't above trafficking with Demons when it suits them. They hate Rayne's ilk because they can't control them and that makes them a threat. You didn't think that the Council was actually trying to 'save' people were you? Maybe that was true once but now it's about power and influence. The Watchers Council and Wolfram & Hart aren't as different as they seem on the surface. That's why the Ancients that created the Slayers created a failsafe as well in the event that their trusted disciples proved to be less than worthy." Spike glances at Angel and away again. "You should tell him Wes. He deserves to know."

"Tell me what?" Angel asks suspiciously; having figured out that he's the 'he' in question from Spike's less than veiled glances.

"I've suspected that the Council had more than a passing interest in you when we spotted the observation team they've assigned to you." Wes confesses. "They only do that for those they consider to be assets or threats so I did some checking into it. We assumed that their interest in you was because you have a soul and that makes you unique among Vampires. I've since come to understand that even Demons can have souls; they're just not necessarily 'human' and therefore recognizable for what they are. My contacts in the Council were able to provide me a client list for your agency and I realized that their machinations were far more insidious than I had at first believed them to be."

"What he's trying to tell you is that you've been working for the bloody Watchers." Spike interjects bluntly. "The cases you've been getting have been from them. They've been using you all along."

"What would they have to gain from manipulating me like that?!" Angel exclaims looking disgusted.

"The same thing they have to gain from manipulating your little Slayer girl and the ones that went before her and would have come after her if the Ancients' prophecy hadn't come to pass. It's all about the Power and the game. Light or Dark, they can call themselves whatever they want and paint themselves good or evil or indifferent but everyone has an agenda for what they do. You were a knight that they could move on their chessboard and every side has and will try to do it again." Spike answers.

"Coronya was pretty clear when she summoned me and told me what my part to play in their prophecy was. As Will is the first of the hybrid Slayers, so I'm supposed to be the first of the New Watchers, the herald for a return to the old ways when we served our Slayers and guided them instead of using and manipulating them to our own ends." Wes reveals. "I guess I didn't really stop to think just how much of what I always believed to be true wasn't only false but a deliberate lie to keep us from questioning too much. I knew on the surface that Watchers weren't what they were supposed to be when I found out about the murders and plots to isolate Slayers from their families and insulate them from the world. They've had centuries to perfect their rhetoric and I guess that part of me still wants to believe that there is good left in them."

"Of course there is." Spike replies warmly. "You have friends that are still feeding you information and helping you from the inside that have seen what you have and don't agree. They have to keep their activities and feelings secret to avoid being discovered by the regime in charge but they're still trying to live by the ideals that the Ancients prescribed for them."

"If you ask me, I'd rather put my faith in the Ancients. They at least were willing to set up the Watchers and Slayers and step aside and let you make your own mistakes for the most part. The Powers; above or below; they seem to be much more hands-on and manipulative." Angel comments dourly. His dissatisfaction at the manipulations that have come to light in his life haven't been sitting easily on his mind.

Wesley looks moderately comforted. "That's true." He admits. "Coronya said that they're job wasn't to be our parents but to be our guides. They give us the materials that we need and the support but that what we build is up to us."

"That duplication spell that you and Phaedra were working on, is that ready yet?" Spike asks.

Wes snaps out of his internal thoughts and thoughts. "We think that we've got all the kinks worked out now. All of our tests have come out one hundred percent successes so I'm confident in it. Working out the particulars of a new spell is always tricky."

"Can anyone cast the spell or does it have to be you or Phaedra?" Spike asks.

"It's based off of the magic of Phaedra's people and a different 'frequency' of sorts from what is used by Mages and Witches here. It doesn't have to be Phaedra and myself but it would have to be someone familiar with the magic of her people. I expect that a moderately powerful Mage from among their number could do it as well as she or I. What did you have in mind?" Wes answers.

"If your contacts can arrange for a few new plants to be delivered to some key areas, say several of the higher echelon offices and the library or book vaults...." Angel picks up on Spike's intentions.

"That would allow them the means to enter and leave silently without being seen and they could duplicate entire collections of books, records, and such. That is brilliant and it would work. Most of the Council's security is geared to keeping unauthorized people out but once you're inside it is pretty much assumed that you're supposed to be in there. Most of the internal security measures are rather mundane; locked filing cabinets and desks and the like but no real alarms." Wes reveals.

"I've seen some of those blighters get into the damndest places. I don't think any alarms would stop them if they wanted to get in badly enough. I think that we should start duplicating everything before the Council realizing what kind of straights they're in and the in-fighting starts. We may lose valuable assets if they start to panic and scatter with the collections." Spike offers.

Wes flinches in reaction at the thought of the knowledge and history that could be lost if that happened. "We'll get started on it right away."

"Not to be the voice of practicality or anything but where are you planning to put it all?" Angel asks. "The library at the house looked pretty full already...."

Wes and Spike share a startled glance and start chuckling and after a few seconds Angel joins them.

"You're right we'll need to move ahead our other project as well." Spike points out.

"Phaedra told me that it was nearly complete and that the wood-wrights were finishing up the detail work." Wes replies with a sheepish shrug. Seeing that Angel is confused he explains further. "Phaedra has had her people building us a Council Hall of sorts." Understanding dawns on Angel's face as Wes continues. "It was always our intention to safeguard what we could of the Council's collections but until we managed to get the new spell working we assumed that we'd have to steal them outright which would have been impossible to hide. Our plans were geared to that eventuality and in some cases we'll still have to do that for some of the objects that I don't think that we can trust to duplication."

"Well that's not too much of a problem since you do have that spell worked out." Angel points out. "We don't trust the copies but there's nothing to say that we can't leave them the copies and take the originals is there?"

"Simple and incredibly devious; I like it." Spike quips and that leads to another round of chuckling.

"That is the best solution. We'll use the spell but take the originals and leave the copies behind. We'll have to alter the spell specifics to invert the effects and cause the originals to be teleported out instead of the copies as we originally intended. It's a fairly minor alteration though and it won't take us long to complete. We'll be securing the Slayers' Library and collections within the day." Wes replies with a relieved smile. The vast majority of the library was a gift from the Ancients to assist their Warrior. Even the items and volumes added later were by and large purchased either directly or indirectly by resources made possible by the Ancients' original entrustment. Since their abuse of the trust; they are no longer the Guides, it rightfully belongs to William and the ones that will come after him and it is his duty to secure them and care for them as his forefathers once did. He's promised himself not to repeat the mistakes of the Watchers that strayed from their paths before him but to hold to the ideals that were intended for them. He has his eyes on several likely candidates to begin training them as Watchers as well.

It suddenly hits Wesley with the weight and impact of a speeding freight train just what has been entrusted to him exactly and he's humbled. He is the Watcher to the first of the new breed of Slayer that the Ancients' have been slowly evolving since before humans walked their planet! He is the first, to the First, and it is up to him to find and properly train a new Watcher line to handle their very special charges. Since the method of 'calling' is no longer confined by the constraints of death being the impetus for another to rise; it would be rather difficult since Will is technically undead to begin with; it will be possible that there could be more than one at a time. In truth he suspects that the potential is already slumbering in one of the most promising of the new Aurelius line and in time Rona's heritage may present itself through the blood that binds her to William. He's had his suspicions for some time but hasn't voiced them in favour of watching Rona's development as none of them truly know what to expect.

The Ancients have wiped the slate clean, rebuilt on the foundation of the Slayer, enhanced it, and sent it to soar taller than the inefficient structure from before. The rest is uncharted territory and the true test and he plans to ace them all. Uncertain times won't shake his focus from what has to be and should be done. He is as much the Father of a new future as William is but all of them have important parts to play in the rise of a new Warrior clan.

"I know that you'll handle it Wes." Angel replies confidently, bringing Wesley's attention to him.

He can see that Angel intends to make himself integral to Will and he can't fault him for wanting to be but he's not blinded to the fact that the elder Vampire is himself a pawn in the Powers' chess game. He has no doubt that the Powers have plans to try and influence William to their side through the subtle and not so subtle manipulation that Angel has started to see as being used against him. Perhaps there's a way to lessen their influence over the elder Vampire? It's a possibility that he'll have to research and for the time being he'll keep his questions to the privacy of his mind alone. There is however another matter that should be dealt with as soon as possible to assure their safety.

"There's another important matter that we need to discuss." Wesley announces confidently as he sits up taller in his chair as Will and Angel turn their attention back to him. "The Mages have come up with a spell that they feel will deal with the threat of Angelus escaping your hold once and for all." Wesley quickly and bluntly explains the spell. He doesn't leave any details out; no matter how potentially distasteful to Angel; and keeps his promise to William to reveal everything about the spell and not keep anything from Angel about what it will require of and for him.

Angel is understandably and visibly upset by the revelations naturally but surprises them when he speaks up. "They deliberately sacrificed one of their own and used his immortal soul in their foul spell just so that I would never know a moment's peace?" He growls. "How could they sentence someone to having to live this way for so long and with possibly centuries to go before I meet my final end? It's a cruel and horrible fate to force on someone! Angelus is mad and the battle is horrible. It kind of makes sense to me; what you've said. I've always had a sense of Angelus in the back of my mind rattling in the chains and whispering to me constantly and sometimes I think that I listen to what he wants me to do." Angel admits reluctantly as though confessing a deep dark secret. His eyes widen as his hands are covered and squeezed gently; pleasant warmth on the left and a familiar cool tingling touch on his right.

"Our Demons never go away Angelus; they can't we'd die without them, have been long dead if they hadn't joined to us. Your Demon has been in solitary confinement for over a century with nothing but a vengeful Gypsy soul as a companion so of course he's not exactly... sane. It doesn't mean that you can't help to achieve the balance that will let you be both Angel and Angelus without the fighting. I'm not going to lie to you Pet, the struggle never goes away completely but after a while it's not so hard. I'm not saying that the human part of you is ever going to be friends with the Demon part but they can learn to agree to disagree too." Spike admits, trying to comfort Angel.

"I need to know the truth Wes. Is there any other way?" Angel asks bluntly, as he flips his hand over and threads his fingers through Spike's and holds on tightly.

"In time another solution may present itself." Wes honestly admits. "I can't say if the outcome will be any more or less pleasant than this one. This was the best solution that the Mages could come up with; so far; to secure your humanity for lack of a better word in this instance."

"And until then it's a possibility that Angelus could escape again and be a danger to everyone." Angel replies flatly, his brow furrowed by heavy thoughts. He has the chance to end the threat of a mad Angelus once and for all but can he do it by embracing what he's hated for so long? "If I do this, will I have a soul?"

"Spike does; it's just not a human one." Wes reminds him. "He's still capable of behaving as a man and not a Demon and he's not ruled by it. It's a symbiosis and Phaedra can teach you several techniques that can help you to connect to your Demon half without being overwhelmed by it."

"It will probably be easier for you than it was for me too. You've always tried to tell me that mediation and discipline would make me a better fighter but I was too impatient and bull-headed to listen to you and couldn't manage to keep my concentration back then. It was a hard lesson for me but it won't be for you I bet." Spike adds.

"If you mean will you have a human soul than the answer is partly yes and in part no. It will basically fuse the disparate halves into a whole and remove the portions that are deliberately causing the fission that divides you. It was a cruel punishment that was intended to torture you not give you the chance and choice to redeem yourself." Wes points out. "The soul was a punishment but the Powers are using it to their advantage and not necessarily always to yours."

"If I do this and I can't keep control I could be more of a threat to Spike than Angelus is now." Angel feels compelled to point out.

His feelings for his last remaining Childe are already volatile and extreme but if he were truly free once more, the last threads of self-control that has been holding him back is going to snap. He's marked and claimed Spike twice over but the thought of losing his soul if he fully gave in to his feelings has been holding him back. If that doubt were removed he's worried about how he's going to react to Spike and the strange but wonderful family he's built around him.

"I'm not a Fledgling anymore and I can hold my own against Angelus. I've proven that." Spike denies hotly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't make the decision because you think that you have to protect me. I've earned my right to your respect in that regard and you know it."

Angel nods admitting that he has earned that much and more. "You asked me to make a choice and to stand by it. This soul had me turn my back on my blood; it has cost me the lives of three of my Childer and my Sire and Grand-Sire. It won't be the cause of losing the last too. I'll submit to the spell if it means that I can be a real Sire again." Angel decides. "I don't care if the Powers turn their back on me for doing it either!" He swears vehemently.

"I doubt they'll be as upset as you think Pet." Spike replies enigmatically. He's more than a little overwhelmed that Angel would want to do the spell despite knowing the cost of it.

"What do you mean?" Angel questions. "I won't have the soul that made me their Champion anymore and I'll be freeing Angelus so I think they may be just a little upset about that." He counters.

"If they were worried about Angelus why haven't they taken measures to bind your soul permanently to prevent the possibility of his escaping again?" Wes asks smoothly. "They proud themselves on being some of the most powerful entities in this plane or dozens of others so it's unlikely that they couldn't have come up with some way to do it if it concerned them." He points out.

"What is that supposed to mean? They could have bound my soul so I wouldn't lose it and they didn't? Why wouldn't they have wanted to?" Angel stutters in shock.

"Angelus was useful to them. They've used him before when it suits them to." Spike answers with a dark glower.

Wesley steps in to explain. "Will and I have discussed this topic at some length and we came to the conclusion that they didn't bind your soul because there have been instances where Angelus has been made to serve their needs and machinations. I don't think that they knew for sure that William was destined to be the one that the Ancients foretold but we think that they had some idea that he wasn't typical either. We think that they manipulated events deliberately to release Angelus and see what he'd do. I don't think that they intended for you to end up in a hell dimension but something went wrong and you did. We think that they arranged for that girl Willow to find the curse and gave her the boost she needed to cast it successfully and cage Angelus again. We're not sure where the plan went pear-shaped but you got your soul back but it was just too late and Buffy had to banish you to close Acathla."

"Why would they have used me like that? What was the point of it?" Angel asks looking ill.

Wesley glances at Will and quickly away. He has a theory that he hasn't shared with his best friend and after a brief hesitation he finally does. "I think the point of it wasn't about you at all. It was William that they were really manipulating." He reveals in a choked tone. "I think that the plan was for Angelus to be freed and to see if Will would side with you or against you if the world was facing a threat seriously enough. I think that their intention was to see if they could possibly use him as another pawn in their struggles with the Senior Partners and the other Lower beings they're in conflict with. I believe that the spell to restore your soul was supposed to be found long before the possibility of Acathla was fully realized. So something went wrong there and your soul wasn't restored when it should have been."

"Drusilla is what happened." Spike shares in a flat and unemotional tone. "Her visions could be helpful but they could also be a tremendous pain in the arse. She knew what that Gypsy Witchling was planning to do and tipped off my tall. Dark, and forehead of a Sire to it and he killed her. It must have messed up their plans but good."

"But why wouldn't they have found another way to make sure that the spell was found sooner?!" Angel exclaims. "We could have avoided so much of what happened!"

"You forgot that a chess board has two sides." Wes points out as inspiration strikes. "The Powers were only one side of the board, someone else was playing the other and it looks like they got checkmate."

"That makes sense. We know that the Wankers-That-Be weren't behind your escape from the Hell Dimension Acathla sent you too. Whoever was behind it was returning the King to the board and the game has gone on and you still can't be sure which side is moving you this time." Spike doesn't bother to hide the disdain and disgust in his voice.

Angel straightens and looks determined. "Do you think that the spell will make them lose interest in me?" He asks bluntly. He's tired of being the sucker played for a fool.

Wes thinks for a moment and finally shakes his head with a resigned sigh as he looks up and sees that Will is also shaking his head and looking ill as he agrees. "I think that they're still going to try but once the spell is done; if you decide to go through with it and please be certain that we'll accept it if you choose not to; it may be more difficult for you not to see the attempts for what they are. I don't think that your reactions to their manipulations are going to be the same after the spell which may through them off for a while. They expect you to act and more importantly react in certain ways so any change to that is going to upset their ability to manipulate you I would think." Wes theorizes.

"And what about Spike; what happens to him if I do this?" Angel asks with genuine concern. "You admit that you think that the Powers at least have taken an interest in him. If they can't get to me, will they try and get to him again?"

"The Bastards could try but there's a very big difference between you and I Mate." Spike reminds him.

"You mean because of the whole Ancients thing?" Angel asks.

"I mean because I don't have a problem telling the Powers to go bugger themselves or spitting in the Devil's eye as they say. They have no claim on me or what I choose to do. I'll do what I'm going to do and they ruddy twits can just get the hell out of my way." Spike states flatly and after a few seconds Wes and Angel just stare in amazement before breaking into amazed laughter.

"You would at that My Boy." Angel admits and finds himself envying his Childe his ability to adapt but never to lose the innate qualities that make him who he is.

There are times that he feels lost and as though he doesn't know who he is anymore without the ties that used to define him. He was Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, Favourite Childe of Darla the Fair, Favourite Childe of The Master; Master of Aurelius. He was the Sire of the most vicious and beautiful Childer ever sired, the source of the Blood that spawned Penn; the Engraver, Drusilla; the Seer, William; the Bloody and Spike; the Slayer of Slayers, and Lawson; the Mariner. Then he was the Vampire with a Soul, Champion for the Powers and now it seems the Shill for the Lower Powers too. He believed that Buffy and his love for her would define him and instead it cast him alone into the sea of humanity and demonical silt that is Los Angeles. He lost himself somewhere amid all the things that used to define him but not Spike; no Spike never loses sight of who or what he is.

Losing his Human soul and gaining the immortality of a Demon couldn't do it. For all of his cruelty and passionately vicious possessive need to break the younger Vampire Angelus couldn't do it either even though Spike has always loved his Sire. It's unlikely that any heavenly chorus or fiery pit of Fiends is going to manage it when Spike could care less about them. William the Bloody is truly a Master unto himself and he bows to no Man, God, or Demon. But he can occasionally be convinced by his Sire's charms to bow temporarily and Angel smiles; ignoring the confused looks being aimed his way by Spike and Wes as they spot the untimely smile.

"The Ancients planned well and so slowly that no one saw the final outcome of their methodology. Spike doesn't have the same triggers that you do, they saw to that. The life he's lived, the experiences that he's survived and the trials that he's overcome, all of it, every moment of his existence was shaping him for his destiny with the express purpose of being the Alpha and the Omega. He is the first of his kind but moulded to end the last of the Slayer line; creation through destruction. He's something new that owes allegiance to any of the Powers, upper or lower. He is purity of purpose that the Slayers have lost." Wes says proudly, watching Angel curiously from the corner of his eye as he continues to smile.

"Just as the capacity for evil exists in all beings, so too must there be the possibility of good or at least of selflessness. Not every Human is 'good' and not every Demon is 'evil' but there are shades of both. Spike will defend all equally but he will also fight against all equally too. An evil Human or an Evil Demon, evil in the hearts of men and demons alike is still evil to be fought." Wes completes his thought.

"But humans have courts of law...." Angel hears his self pointing out; more out of habit than belief.

"You know full well that the courts can be and are manipulated and justice can be bought; maybe not always with money but sold all the same. There are evils in the world that the humans have denied to the point of blinding themselves to it until they're hardened to the truth. They can't see that sometimes the answer to a problem can be as ugly as the problems themselves. The power belongs to do those that do see that and use it. You and I know that those men will never see the inside of a courtroom." Wes argues back. Justice really is blind, so blind in fact that most of the people that really need it will never get it and those that have it don't always deserve it."

"There's a reason why 'Might makes Right' became a saying everyone knows." Spike adds.

Angel leans back and considers everything that he's heard and after a silent speaking glance, Wes and Spike silently file out of the dining room and leave Angel to his serious thoughts.

They slip silently out of the side door and out into the expanse of formal gardens that fill the large courtyard off the nook that houses the breakfast banquette. Spike makes his way to the three foot wall that borders one of the raised terraced planting plots on the side of the garden. The growing season isn't vigorous for the Hellmouth so it isn't home to thriving flowers and plants but thick lush grass instead. He hops up with easy grace and turns to Wes and gives him a hand up to sprawl beside him on the fragrant greenery.

Spike settles onto his side, his knees curling around into a lazy arch as his hand braces his cheek above the thick grass. "Do you think that Angel is really going to do it?" He asks Wes as his friend settles onto his back next to him.

Wes shrugs, "He said that he was going to." Is all the answer that he give but privately he hopes that Angel meant what he said since Spike will be safer with a sane Sire that can't lose his soul than with one driven mad by a tormenting soul or one driven mad by being locked up for a century.

Spike looks away, turning his eyes up to the almost full moon that seems to be hanging low enough in the sky that he could reach up and touch it. "Angel says a lot of things." He sighs in a silent exhalation. "He just doesn't always mean what he says nor does what he says he's going to do." He adds softly. "He promised not to leave me alone and he did. He told me that I mattered to him more than the Slayer did but then goes and wants to destroy the world because she makes him feel human and he couldn't stand it. He told me that I was important to him but then he leaves the bloody town and doesn't bother to tell me he's going. Angel says a lot of things."

"Why do you love him?" Wes asks frankly, finding the courage to ask the question that he could never bring himself to ask before.

"Who said I loved him?" Spike denies automatically and then grimaces and sends Wes an apologetic look. "I do love him." He admits. "I can't remember a time when I didn't. The only problem is that at times I hate him as much as I love him."

Wes pats his shoulder gently and hides his amusement. "Yes, Heaven is thine; but this is a world of sweets and sours." He quotes from memory a passage that seems fitting. He knows all too well what it is to love unwisely and all too well for comfort. "Few people can put into words why they love someone."

"Emotions aren't words. They're nebulous like clouds drifting by. How do you hold a cloud in your hands and give it form?" Spike asks.

Wes squeezes his shoulder companionably. "You are ever the poet my friend." He praises and smiles. It always gives him a warm glow inside when Spike lets his softer side shine through when they're alone without a second thought. It's a side of his nature that he is very protective of and he doesn't display it openly but only among selective individuals. "Angel doesn't seem like the person that he used to be so maybe this time he won't make a promise that he won't keep. I think that he knows that if he does there are others around you that won't make that mistake and he'll lose you for good."

Spike looks at Wes suspiciously. "He knows that for sure, does he?"

"I expect that someone that cares about you made it pretty clear that you had friends looking out for you now." Wes replies simply.

"I have very good friends." Spike comments simply at his friend; as his hand drops to cover Wesley's and squeezes gently. "If Angel gives his word this time maybe he will keep it."

"What is your take on the Slayer?" Wes abruptly changes the subject hoping to head off the black pit full of questions that keep piling up without answers. "I was shocked by the marked deterioration in her condition. It seems much more pronounced than the time frame should have allowed. I've re-thought my estimation a dozen times and each time I keep coming up with a result that says that she shouldn't have been affected to the degree that she is. It must have taken him some time to worm his way into her life; at least a week if I'm generous, two if I'm not, and at least as long again to manage to convince her to take anything on his recommendation. That is at least a month and that makes it less than five months that he could have been dosing her with those drugs. That's how long the Initiative has been here."

"You're being way too generous with your timeline. I know this Slayer. I was here to watch the sickening display when she was panting after my Sire. Forget a week, if it took that pitiful lump of human flesh a week to charm her pants off he's a colossal loser. You didn't notice the resemblance?" Spike notes with surprise.

"There was a resemblance; between who or what?" Wes asks in confusion.

"The same wide forehead, pretty boy looks, builds like a brick outhouse and worse they have that 'I'm a hero, look at me' attitude. Finn may not look identical to Angel but for a girl barely old enough to be drinking there is enough of a resemblance to get her jonesing on him. He was probably the answer to every girlish dream she had, an Angel with a pulse." Spike comments in disgust, his lip curling in derision. "Rumour had it that the Slayer was panting after some frat boy that used her and never saw it coming. As Slayers go, this one isn't the worldly. She rolled onto her back for him in days not weeks."

Wesley looks disgusted since that would in fact make all his estimations and assumptions about the timeline for events in Sunnydale inaccurate. "So they may be far more entrenched here than we thought. It's just as well that we're moving up the attack."

Spike's brow furrows as he thinks back on the events of the night; too much doesn't add up. "We've got Jokers in the deck." He announces. "I don't believe that the attack on that patrol earlier was random or part of any vendetta on the part of some unknown Demon. It was cold and methodical, it had a purpose and it was planned out. That doesn't sound like a Demon to me. In fact it sounds more like a military tactics. Could there be a rogue element within the Initiative?" He verbalizes his thoughts aloud.

"That seems unlikely given their habit of drugging their soldiers to make them easily controllable."

"If they're drugging their soldiers; who's to say they're not drugging the town too Wes?" Spike's eyes widen in realization. "It wouldn't be that difficult; most of the town's water comes from the reservoir at the edge of town. If they managed to set up some sort of an automatic feeder, they could be drugging the town and everyone in it. Maybe that's why no one seems to notice things that they should be noticing."

"But the towns around a Hellmouth have always been rather oblivious...." Wes starts to say but then his mouth drops open as he realizes that the Hellmouth in Europe and the one in Asia aren't as oblivious. In fact local legends, stories, and first-hand accounts of all the strange happenings are much more prevalent. Only the American Hellmouths seem to have populations not only oblivious but actively blind to the unusual occurrences going on around them. "You're thinking that the government in this country has been actively trying to control the towns built over Hellmouths."

"At least factions within it might have been. During the war the Americans proved that they knew more than they wanted to let on when they 'recruited' Angel to help them with a problem on a Submarine. I think that the group that went after Angel back then was probably the beginning of the Initiative or at least the group that would eventual become them. Angel destroyed the Nazis research but it's possible that he didn't get everything and the Americans recovered it." Spike theorizes.

"If they've known about Demons for fifty years, it's not a big leap to assume that they could have learned about Hellmouths at the same time. If they've been capturing and experimenting on Demons for that long it's not only possible it's probable too. Fortunately the Chase's preference for the finer things has worked out in our favour; they have water filters on every faucet so it's likely that any contamination was caught by the chemical filters that take out Chlorine. What little may have gotten through won't harm us for the short time that we'll be here." Wes decides. "I'll have some of the Minions take samples from the Reservoir and treatment plant and have it analyzed. If they have been drugging the water supply, we can introduce the counteragents through their own delivery system and divert their tainted supply to a safe location. I'll contact the network and get someone out to Cleveland to do the same there. If they're using drugs to control the population, let's see how they do when we take the blinders off."

"This may explain why the Watcher was acting off his rocker." Spike points out.

"Speaking of Giles, what are we going to do about him? If he's been compromised like his Slayer, we can't trust him or any of them. Well except for Joyce but we know she's probably okay since you made me install all those water filters in her house after you saw that special on contaminated water that night." Wesley snorts in amusement as Spike blushes faintly and playfully punches his shoulder lightly in response to his teasing him. "It was a good idea and you're determination to do it probably saved her from some nasty effects so we lucked out in that at least."

"I'll deal with the Watcher. I don't want that old Bastard anywhere near you and I want to make sure that Rona steers well clear of him too. Can your contacts in the Council intercept any reports he sends? I don't want to take the chance that he'll decide to tell the Council about Rona and then have them coming after her. They'll want to study her and then destroy her and I won't allow it!"

"We won't let that happen. Aurelius takes care of its own." A voice quietly interjects.

Spike looks back over his shoulder at Angel as he quietly closes the French doors and crosses the distance between them. He doesn't seem to be alarmed or worried as he easily vaults onto the bed of soft grass and curls his body around his. He shivers at the weight of the hand that slides slowly across his abdomen and sucks in a startled breath as he's yanked back into Angel's powerfully muscled body and held tightly.

"I'll do the ritual and spell. I'm tired of being used and having my choices limited and controlled so that I make the one that they want me to make. It may not be the right decision but at least it is one I'm making for myself for once. What are you two looking so serious about?"

Wesley recaps their conversation for Angel's benefit and watches as the powerful Vampire bristles in reaction and silently snarls his displeasure. He approves of their plans and offers a few good suggestions of his own that they all agree upon.

The sound of the door has all of them looking over their shoulders as Phaedra silently glides out into the garden. In the privacy of the Chase home she once again looks every inch the Hamadryad Noblewoman. From her long, thick Auburn hair tumbling in curls over her shoulders and bare Café au Lait bare torso; to the diaphanous layers of her open-sided, sable black skirt and twinkling anklets and bracelets, she is beauty of a kind humans have long forgotten could exist.

She drops to rest gracefully on the side of the medium-sized fountain that fills the center of the classical garden and beacons them to join her. They cluster around her as she turns back to stare into the water. "Let what was seen, be seen once more. Illuminatum tempus fugit winde pastor dende aqua." Phaedra leans forward and swirls her fingertips in the water and the liquid literally boils madly around her hand but settles to glass-like stillness within seconds. A hazy image forms and quickly sharpens to crystal clarity and they watch an astonishing series of events unfold before their eyes. The water boils furiously as the images fuzz to hazy indistinct shapes and finally fades to gone as the water stills once more after the tumult.

It's predictably Spike that finds his voice first. "What the ruddy bleedin' hell is that thing?!" He exclaims in shock and disgust as he instinctively rears backwards away from the fountain even though the images are gone.

Angel sweeps up his Boy and pulls him into his arms and wraps his arms around him so tightly that he's almost lifting him from his feet. "I don't know it is but I think that it used to be Human." He doesn't want that abomination anywhere near Spike or their family!

Wesley clears his throat several times trying to force the thick knot that's formed down enough for him to speak and almost gags at the faint taste of bile trying to force its way up his throat. "I... I... I think that we can assume this... thing... was the reason for the grating experiments and the unfortunate survivors of them that we've come across. I saw parts of at least four Demons grafted onto its body."

"Six." Angel and Spike correct in unison and sharing the same tone of disgust in their voices.

"Parts of it seemed to be cybernetic in nature as well." Wesley clears his throat again. "Perhaps... perhaps that is why it attacked the soldiers." His skin is so pale that it's almost bleached of all colours except for twin spots of alarming red high on his cheekbones. "It's looking for organ... organics to replace the metal they've grafted onto it."

"That thing may be the reason for the single isolated disappearances we couldn't tie to the Initiative conclusively. If it attacked those soldiers for their... parts... it may have attacked Demons for the same reason." Spike turns his face away and unconsciously rubs his cheek against Angel's chest in a gesture demanding comfort that the Elder Vampire hasn't seen him use since he was a Fledgling.

Angel looks down fondly at the tousled pale curls of his Childe and feels warmth spreading through his belly at the sight of his Boy seeking comfort from him once again. His hands are gentle as they card through the waves and lazy curls of his hair and stroke soothingly down a tense back.

"Put out the word that we've got a rogue on our hands and warn everyone that thing is on the prowl. It must be somewhat confined to that area if no one has seen it and spread the word." Angel announces.

"That makes sense; there isn't much out that way but the nature preserve and some older buildings that have been abandoned and the old power station that they closed down." Spike agrees. "Oh, there are caves out that way too." He suddenly recalls. "A pack of Reavers were camped out in there when Dru and I came to town so Demons wisely avoided it. It was a big nest, well established."

The voracious Piranha-like carrion eaters are feared by dumb and wise Demons alike. Their vicious swarms have been known to strip the toughest flesh from a body in mere seconds and while less than a foot long and tall they can breed incredibly fast and packs of thousands can spring up almost overnight. Fortunately for most species they're xenophobic to the point of madness and rarely seek inhabited areas and tend to flee from highly populated, noisy areas. They routinely burrow into graves to feast on the decaying flesh that they prefer, which is all that keeps them from menacing the living. Not to say that they'd pass up any meal that was stupid, foolish, or just unlucky enough to blunder into their feeding frenzies that is.

Nearly every Order has their nightmarish stories of Fledglings taken before they could burrow their way out of their caskets however. The Reavers are one of the few things that Vampires actively fear and Orders usually burn out their nests when they're in their territory.

"I doubt even Reavers would slow that thing down. If it's still living out there it must have killed them off or driven them out." Angel recalls the horribly violent carnage they watched. "My guess is it killed them." He adds distastefully. "They're helpless against water and drown easily. It could have flooded their caverns, there's several aqueducts near there or easily burned them out. The little Rat Bastards are really flammable. If those things are around here, they need to be killed."

"The Aristae can take care of them." Spike announces. "We'll have them cook the Bastards. They can liquefy those caves in minutes and burn anything in them to ash and gone."

"Yes; including that monstrosity!" Wes announces snapping his fingers. "We'll have them scour the whole area!" Wes looks at Phaedra. "I think it will be safe enough. The Reavers never leave anything alive in their caves and caverns, not animals or plants so we won't be harming anything else."

Phaedra looks comforted and nods her understanding. "The plants and animals of this place are tainted and they're fully aware of it. The Hellmouths affect everything that lives here for any length of time and leaves its mark on one and all. They're stunted, twisted, and most would willingly end their existence if given a choice. They know that they aren't right and mockeries of what they should be but they're still tied to the life-force of the First Mother and the Green Father and they will serve in their names faithfully. They're ready to fight and to kill in the defence of us all. If one or more should die in the doing then their lives shall have meaning. Some have asked that my people carry their seeds far from this place and I have asked my kith and kin to do so. If they fall the seeds of their line will live on far from this horrible place and they are content."

Angel pulls Spike away from the fountain and the memory of the awful images that its crystalline waters held and back to their raised patch of soft grass. He leaps easily carrying his Childe's weight and lands lightly, tumbling his chuckling boy onto the soft bed of greenery. He rolls onto his back, one arm curling under his head for a pillow as the other pulls Spike closer. He sighs as the blond doesn't fight him and instead curls up quietly beside him and pillows his head on his chest and settles in.

"Speak to me my Boy, like you used to when our knights were young and we called no thing Master and the world wept blood at our passing." Angel prompts in a low urgent voice. He can feel Angelus writhing and coiling beneath his skin like a snake trying valiantly to shed its skin as he yearns to touch the Childe that has brought them their only accord in their centuries of existence.

"What would you have me say? I am no more who I was than you are now. We're different and the world weeps blood for its own laments these days." Spike counters smoothly, feeling nostalgic not so much for the bloodshed and screams but for the softer times he once knew with a sane Sire.

"A poem, a verse, yours or another's I don't care but speak." Angel's voice hardens into a command.

Spike pauses for thought and in a voice low and husky he repeats one of his favourite poems from meory.

"Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand

How few! yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep - while I weep!

O God! can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?"

©Edgar Allan Poe: Dream Within A Dream

Angel smiles as he toys with the curls and waves of Spike's hair. The steam from their earlier sauna has released all of the unruly locks and he didn't have time to stop and use the icing glaze he favours to keep them tamed. He swallows down the less than masculine giggle that wants to claw its way out of his throat as the curls and waves grab at his fingers as though wanting to hold his hand.

"Do mine." Angel entreats without elaboration, proud that his voice is free of the less-than-masculine giggles.

Spike smiles and casts his mind back to the poem that his Sire fell in love with when he first recited it long ago. It comes swiftly and easily to his mind and finds his lips readily.

"I have been one acquainted with the night.

I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.

I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.

I have passed by the watchman on his beat

And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet

When far away an interrupted cry

Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;

And further still at an unearthly height,

O luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.

I have been one acquainted with the night."

Acquainted With The Night by Robert Frost.

"Did you keep up with your other lessons My Lad?" Angel's voice is husky with emotion.

Spike hears the soft brogue that he hasn't heard in over a century and wonders just how close to the surface Angelus really is. He was never quite sure what made Angelus take to him when Drusilla first dragged him back to their lair but he seemed to be almost fascinated with his Gentlemen's upbringing. So obsessed was he in fact that Angelus was vehement in his demands that he not only maintain his 'Lordly' manner but expand upon it even further. Music, painting, dancing, poetry, and even such unusual skills as sewing, cooking, and foreign languages; all of them were part of his weekly schedule thanks to the successive lines of tutors 'secured' by his Sire.

Outside their lair his reputation as one of the most vicious and bloodthirsty Vampires ever sired was known far and wide but the fact that the Warrior hid the Gentleman that he used to be was a carefully guarded secret. Angelus impressed upon him the need for secrecy and in the days it took him to heal he learned the value of listening to his Sire. Even Darla was wiser than to defy Angelus when he would broker no arguments against his wishes. She may have been the elder but it was no secret that it was Angelus that ruled the family and even Darla knew better than to cross him when it came to his Childer. Though it had happened many years before his siring the minions still whispered of the terrible rage Angelus flew into when he learned that Darla had driven off Penn, his eldest Childe. Darla never again made so obvious a move to separate Angelus from his Childer; and despite her borderline hatred for him; especially his favoured.

William was the troublesome Childe in 'public' and the ruse was well thought out as those foolish enough to call Angelus enemy never realized his value to their vicious foe. In truth more than one tried to turn the reckless young Vampire into an ally by promising to 'free' him of his Sire's tyranny but ignorant of the fact that all such attempts were promptly betrayed. Even in that the legend that Angelus deliberately fostered was brilliant as the Demon community at large could only look on in envy at a Sire that could hold the loyalty of such a wilful Childe that was rumoured to hate him so well. It was a subterfuge that hid the true vulnerability of their bloodline from all but their most trusted.

"I remembered your words Sire and lived by them." Spike replies smoothly, dropping his thick cockney accent in favour of the smoothly polished tones of his youth.

"We shall see My Childe. Recite a poem that you've chosen me as you used to do." Angel orders, stroking his hand through Spike's hair gently. "Tell me in your Mother-Tongue My Lad."

"As you wish My Sire; a poem for he whom made me." Spike thinks for a moment and a smile curves his lips as he remembers a passage that suits his un-souled Sire and it comes easily to his lips.

"For certain minutes at the least

That crafty demon and that loud beast

That plague me day and night

Ran out of my sight;

Though I had long perned in the gyre,

Between my hatred and desire.

I saw my freedom won

And all laugh in the sun.

The glittering eyes in a death's head

Of old Luke Wadding's portrait said

Welcome, and the Ormondes all

Nodded upon the wall,

And even Strafford smiled as though

It made him happier to know

I understood his plan.

Now that the loud beast ran

There was no portrait in the Gallery

But beckoned to sweet company,

For all men's thoughts grew clear

Being dear as mine are dear.

But soon a tear-drop started up,

For aimless joy had made me stop

Beside the little lake

To watch a white gull take

A bit of bread thrown up into the air;

Now gyring down and perning there

He splashed where an absurd

Portly green-pated bird

Shook off the water from his back;

Being no more demoniac

A stupid happy creature

Could rouse my whole nature.

Yet I am certain as can be

That every natural victory

Belongs to beast or demon,

That never yet had freeman

Right mastery of natural things,

And that mere growing old, that brings

Chilled blood, this sweetness brought;

Yet have no dearer thought

Than that I may find out a way

To make it linger half a day.

O what a sweetness strayed

Through barren Thebaid,

Or by the Mareotic sea

When that exultant Anthony

And twice a thousand more

Starved upon the shore

And withered to a bag of bones!

What had the Caesars but their thrones?"

Demon And Beast by William Butler Yeats.

"That was a lovely choice Lad; a song now I think; in my mother-tongue." Angel prompts.

Spike rolls nimbly to his knees and rising smoothly to his feet and darts away before Angel realizes what he's up to. He's back in less than a minute, barely winded from the sprint to their suite and back again; a worn but well-cared-for guitar case in his hand. He sets the case down with reverent care and opens it to reveal a gleaming and very well-loved Rosewood-inlaid acoustic guitar with Mother-of-Pearl accents.

Seeing what Spike is carrying Wes makes an excited noise and darts inside as Phaedra claps and laughs with delight. She hurries after Wesley with a light step, calling out softly to the household.

"Where are they rushing off to Childe?" Angel asks watching them leave in confusion.

"Phaedra's people regard singing songs and reciting poetry or epic tales as a social occasion. It's a celebration of kith and kin, and a time for people to gather and strengthen the ties that hold us together. I assume that Wes is going to get his guitar and Phae is calling the household together." Spike replies with a smile as he strums a few chords on his guitar and subtly adjust the tuning.

His prediction is proven true as Wes returns at a jog with a large highly polished guitar case that he sets down reverently. He sits beside Spike and removes a guitar dark with age and glowing with love and care as he checks the tuning on his strings with a practised ease. Angel looks up at the sound of soft footfalls and he sees others of their household slipping into the walled garden, some are alone, others in pairs and groups. What strikes him the most is that to the last one, they're all smiling and excitement is practically thrumming through the air.

Some he can see carry instruments of all shapes and sizes and his eyes widen in surprise as a pair of burly Minions even carry a small piano between them. It's not like anything he's seen before as it appears to be shaped more after a breakfast tray than the pianos that he's familiar with. The reason for that becomes apparent as the beefy pair gently set the unique instrument over the lap of a willowy thin young man that looks barely older than seventeen or eighteen years of age. As his fingers flicker over the keys, the sound is surprisingly deep and reverberant as though issued from a much larger and sturdier instrument.

"Phaedra's people invented it long ago when they were still nomadic and space was a great concern for them as they travelled in their wooden wagons." Wesley supplies as he notices Angel's fascinated gaze. "The inside is fascinating; it's honeycombed with echo chambers and channels that intensify the sound and make it sound like the full-sized version but as you can see it's much smaller. Many of the Order have enjoyed the wealth of knowledge that Phaedra's people have and they have embraced the culture fairly easily. They seem more at peace for it." He adds proudly.

Angel marvels at the Order that Spike is willingly giving back to him and he feels humbled and touched as each member stands at a gesture from their current Master. One by one they stand and recite their name and lineage proudly back to the very beginning of their Order. It is a tradition that he thought long dead in this day and age and a habit of the eldest of the Old World Orders that was no longer followed but he's pleasantly shocked to be proven wrong. He's also more than a little astounded to realize that the youngest of their number is far closer to a hundred than to twenty and that is something else that shocks him. It is the rare minion of the modern age that can reach a decade much less near the century mark and he can't help but look around him with pride to see that his Order has so many. It isn't often that he has let himself feel the pride of his vampiric heritage; rather than guilt or outright hatred; but he can't help but feel it now. This is an Order of the highest of the old calibre and a throwback to the honour and grandeur of the Ancient court that once ruled their kind.

Phaedra's return distracts him and his eyes widen. She has changed her outfit somewhat and streamers of gossamer silk crisscross over her breasts giving her a feigned air of modesty. The end of the silk lengths that make up the simple bodice trail down her back in rippling waves, the ends lost in the voluminous layers of her silk skirt. She's gathered her hair up loosely at the crown and a wreath of woven Heather secures it there and the end of her curly hair cascades down her back in a riot of curls. The dark red of her tresses looks like liquid fire against the deep Sable darkness of the silken clothing. A familiar looking necklace is clasped around her neck.

He remembers seeing similar necklaces around the throats of dancers that worked down in the town square and taverns. It is made of thousands of tiny interlocking links alternating with tiny round disks and organized into tiers, each level lower than the last one and the longest brushes her bared navel. A dozen bracelets grace each wrist over and around the decorative cuff that all of them wear but unlike the Order, Phaedra sports a matching set on both wrists rather than just one. The rich golden metal makes a musical sound as she moves and sounds as clear and as soft as whispering bells. The sound takes him back to his youth and a country that he never thought that he would miss when he abandoned it to follow Darla into eternity.

The last members of their household that can be spared from their duties trickle through into the now bulging courtyard of the walled gardens. Some have climbed up to perch on the terraced planters or sit on the benches or along the edges of the marble planters. Some have even vaulted or been helped by others to sit on the very top of the retaining walls and even can even see an adventurous trip perched on the peaked shingled roof of the gazebo. He can see that some have instruments, from various kinds of Flutes, to stringed instruments from Violins to amazingly enough Harps, and some carry drums or hand chimes of various sizes. He looks wistfully at a Bodhran style drum being carried by a svelte Vampiress and can remember his Mother showing him her prized drum when he was a small boy.

Angel watches as the musicians gather on the grass around him, Spike and Wesley until they look like an assemblage of a small orchestra surrounding him! Phaedra leaps lightly onto the wide rim of the marble fountain and it is only then that Angel notices a trio of women standing proudly on the rim of the fountain, one at each of the compass points. They are dressed in similar styles to Phaedra, though he has to admit that the beautiful Hamadryad outshines them all.

He recognizes the shy and quiet Aradia, Phaedra's Hamadryad Handmaiden to her Mistress' right. Her skin is the pale green of fresh leaves and her nearly ankle-length hair is a few shades darker than her skin with a few strands of silver that make it sparkle faintly in the moonlight. The rich topaz brown and warm yellow of her silken clothing is paired well with her colouring.

The Black-haired Fledgling Keilyn and the Brunette recently titled Master Vampire Maeve are two vampiric peas in a pod. They look enough alike to be twins but in truth the feisty Irish Maeve is well over fifty years older than her American-born Childe Keilyn.

It was once unusual for a Master to turn a Childe so soon after their own turning relatively speaking but in the modern age few Vampires wait to sire vampires. In a world so hostile it is one of a Vampire's driving needs, to create Childer and forge the ties that will see them into the years to come. No one was too surprised when Maeve chose to sire Keilyn, a girl that may well have been the descendant of one of her Human daughters for all their remarkably similar appearance.

They're dressed alike in gold and Kelly green silk but reversed with Maeve in predominately black with green accents and Keilyn in green with black. Maeve's short hair is swept back in a neatly coiffed shoulder length Pageboy, the ends curling under to brush her collarbone. Keilyn's longer hair is swept up in a low Chignon decorated with a spray of soft ivy and small chains of tiny white and yellow Daises woven together with a dark red Rosebud.

"Thios Chois Na Tra Domh." Spike calls out quietly and strums his guitar and the musicians quickly pick up the intro smoothly.

Phaedra whirls into a graceful dance sweeping dance, Aradia, Keilyn, and Maeve following her as they circle the fountain in rainbow clouds of floating silk and twinkling bell-like laughter and delicate Gold ringing as they sweep and twirl. Their dancing is beautiful and powerful but the movement is slow and controlled and Angel sighs at the beauty of it all only to have his breath stolen away in the next moment.

"Thíos cois na trá domh, in ndoimhneacht na h-oíche

An saol mhor ina gcodhladh, 's mise liom féin

Na h-éanacha mara ag scairtigh go léanmhar

Cosúil le h-anamnacha bochta i bpéin.

Iomlán gealaí 's iomlán rabharta

Aoibhneas 's ciúineas, 's áilleacht sa domhain

Crónán na fairrige ag dul siar ar mo chluasa

Bog-cheol an uisce ag sileadh san abhainn.."

Spike sings quietly, his slightly husky voice finding the Gaelic words easily and injecting it with a tragic melancholy twang.

"Down by the beach, in the deep of night

The big world is sleeping and I am alone

The sea-birds are calling sorrowfully

Like poor souls in pain

Total purity and total abundance

Bliss and calmness and beauty in the world

The murmur of the sea going into my ears.

The soft song of the water flowing in the river."

Wes echoes in English counterpoint, creating a rather strange almost echoing refrain as he sings the translation in harmony with Spike.

"Istigh ar na h-inseáin tá sean-reilig bheannaithe

An áit inar mhaireadh naoimh san aimsir fadó

Tá daoine istigh ann ag chaith seal go h-aerach

Ní shiúlfaidh siad thar fán chladaigh níos mó.

Bhuail uaigneas m'intínn 's mé ag amharc ar an reilig

'S mé ag meadhradh ar dhaoine istigh ann ina luí

Fir a's mná óga, seandaoine 's páistí

Muintir mo mhuintir 's cairde mo chroí."

Spike's expression is somber as he sings, his eyes gleaming faintly with unshed tears st the sad Irish lament about a Soldier bidding farewell to his fallen comrades brings the loss of his Brothers Penn and Lawson to mind.

"Above on the headland there is a blessed old cemetery

The place in which saints lived in times long ago

There are people within spending a while carefree

The will not walk round on the shore any more.

Loneliness strikes my spirits as I look at the cemetery

And I'm thinking about the people in there sleeping

Men and young women, old people and children

People of my people and friends of my heart."

Wesley keeps his voice soft and it trembles faintly, breaking slightly on some of the vocal notes as his throat tightens at the look of sadness on his friend's face.

"Tá na coiligh ag glaoch 's na réalta ag bánú

Tá an ghealach ina luí 's ní fada go lá

Slán agat anois a shean-reilig bheannaithe

'S na daoine a shiúlfadh liom síos cois na trá."

Spike holds the last note. Letting it trail off and fade into Wesley's rising translated refrain and he picks up the English translation, singing the last few lines along with his friend. Phaedra and the dancers pivot to a slow stop, their silken skirts fluttering and twinning around their legs before settling at their ankles.

"The cocks are crowing and the stars are fading

The moon is setting and it's not long until day

Goodbye now blessed old cemetery

And to the people who walked with me down by the beach."

Angel dashes away a tear, unashamed of being caught showing his emotions so readily. "You have forgotten nothing M' buachaill. Play some more? Maybe something classical like Beethoven?"

Spike smiles and nods, waving his hand and the other musicians quiet expectantly. Spike's hands flick along the strings of his guitar nimbly.

((There is an 8 song mini-soundtrack for this interlude section. Click HERE to download it if you wish but it isn't essential to the story and only included as a bonus for my readers so enjoy! Depending on when you're reading this the above link may be expired so drop me a line by EMAIL and I'll re-upload it for you. Allow me some time as the family may have my attention offline but I'll get it as soon as I can.))

Angel smiles pleasantly surprised to hear Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata floating up from the unique medium of Spike's acoustic guitar. While not quite as complex as the piano version, the emotion in the music finds a home in the simple clarity of the instrument and makes the transition surprisingly well under Spike's skilful hands.

Even as the last notes fade Wesley's hands are moving and another song fills the walled garden, the other musicians picking up his cue and joining in. Angel looks on in delight at the spectacle being staged for his amusement as he gets to learn more about the Order and its extended family of allies as they play, sing, dance, talk and laugh well into the very early morning hours.

The night becomes a series of snapshots frozen in Angel's mind, alive in the moment and repeating endlessly behind his eyelash-shuttered eyes. The amazing voices of Maeve, Keilyn, and amazingly Phaedra; who proves herself to be fluent in Gaelic; evoking the longing for home as they raise their voices in the songs of Eire. Modern music is well represented as Spike leads the Childer of the modern age in several tunes but it's Wes that surprises him the most as he easily keeps up with the driven Spike. It is in that moment that he realizes that despite his preconceptions Will and Wes are more alike than they are dissimilar. He laughs as loud as the rest as his Boy and the former Watcher ham it up singing an absurd song about Cowboys; no doubt poking fun at Riley Finn and the self-proclaimed 'Calvary' that is the Initiative.

In time the music of the musicians gives way to the modern age and a large boom box supplies the soundtrack for the impromptu festivities but it manages to lose none of the magic.

The lovers are the first to slip into the house or in some cases out further into the extensive gardens and lawns of the backyard. They're focus doesn't pass much farther than the forms of the ones that they love. Others drift away to sleep or the demands of duty or family in some cases; as the youngest are unable to fight the pull of the dawn that is growing closer.

It ends as it began, with Spike, Angel, Wes, and Phaedra.

((Start Beth Orton - The Devil Song now if you want to listen along.))

Angel tightens his muscles and pulls himself closer to Spike by the arm wrapped around his waist of his Childe. Spike sits cross-legged next to him; softly strumming his guitar and quietly singing along with the music playing on the boom box. An easy feeling of euphoria has drifted over him and ignores the first subtle warnings from his instincts telling him that dawn is near. He unconsciously glances up towards the eastern wall and in the direction where the sun will be rising within the hour and stiffens in surprise.

Wes and Phaedra are stretched out on the grass in another section of the garden trading slow and languid kisses and gentle caresses.

"Phaedra and Wes are together?" Angel asks softly, unable to hide his surprise.

Spike doesn't stop strumming his guitar as he plays along with the music. "You didn't know?" He asks softly, surprise colouring his voice.

"I didn't know." Angel confirms looking embarrassed.

"Well no reason why you should I suppose." Spike replies enigmatically but then smiles understandingly and lets Angel off the proverbial hook. "They haven't been together since you've been with us. They're not a steady couple or anything Mate. Sometimes the spirit and the mood move them."

"If they care for each other why aren't they together? They look good together." Angel asks glancing at the attractive couple. He can see the emotions wrapped around them almost as tangible as a ribbon connecting them.

"Sometimes love isn't enough." Spike looks at Angel. "You know how that goes. They love each other and the wanting is there but they're not in love with each other. Their hearts belong to other people first and to each other second. Wesley is married to duty and Phaedra's story is a sad tale of loss."

"Duty won't keep your warm at night and loss can be overcome." Angel points out looking determined.

"Wesley was raised to believe that his duties came before everything and anything. That is his Father's doing and it's the greatest atrocity he's committed as a leader in the Council. He programmed his own flesh and blood like all the drones serving the Council. Now many years later and free of his influence; Wesley is still fighting to overcome the lessons of a lifetime at Roger Wyndam-Price's hands. Someday I plan to thank him for that... personally."

"I'll help you." Angel vows; looking angry before blanking his features. "What about Phaedra?"

"Phaedra's people only have one Mate and they mate for life. It is a joining that is more than physical but ties their spirits together as well. Unlike most species who would marry another after their mourning when one of Phaedra's people loses their Mate they will never take another. You should see the bonding ceremony; it's beautiful and very involved. It takes a full week of rituals, blessings, feasting, before the couple is officially mated and the celebration lasts for another week after that. The courtship itself is just as long and protracted, well over a century in most cases. Phaedra doesn't talk about Garron much and no one that cares about her has hurt her by asking for details. All that I know is that they were together for almost four millennia when he died."

"They were... FOUR MILLENNIA... that can't be right." Angel stutters and Spike fights back a snicker at his expense.

"You forget that to Phaedra's people millennia pass as easily as centuries to us. They are one of the few truly immortal races in that they could theoretically live forever. They were newly married by some standards." Spike finally chuckles at Angel's stunned expression. "Phaedra's parents have been married for almost thirty millennia and her Grandparents are still living and they've been mated for fifty. Time doesn't have much of a bite for an Elem adult."

"That's amazing... and sad too." Angel admits after a short pause. "She really won't take another Mate?"

Spike shakes his head sadly. "They're strictly monogamous once they've formalized a pair bond. Their tradition does allow for marriage of a sort between an Elem and a non-Elem but the lost Mate is never truly replaced. The unions never last long, the Elem are a deeply empathic people and the connection between an Elem and another species just never has the same depth."

"That sounds like the relationship between Sires and Childer. We can explain in words what it's like but humans will never be able to truly understand it." Angel curves his hand over Spike's thigh and squeezes gently. "They'll never be able to understand us." Angel pauses and then smiles. "I think that I like it that way." He admits.

"You don't want to try and explain to your precious Buffy about us?" Spike asks surprised.

"I doubt that there's anything that I could say that she could understand much less accept." Angel admits. "You need to watch out for her Spike. She's already threatened to stake you. I think that she assumes everything will go back to the way it was if you weren't... around... anymore."

"She's probably right and it would so it's a fair assumption on her part." Spike counters but his voice isn't unkind or even hurt.

"You really believe that?" Angel asks hurt and more than a little offended.

"If you think that it wouldn't happen, the only one deluding themselves is you. If I weren't in the mix; if Wes and I hadn't rushed in to rescue you and your pets; would you have ever come to me?"

Angel realizes that he can't answer that truthfully and have it not hurt Spike and he finally closes his mouth after three failed attempts to find his voice. Sometimes there just isn't a way to make ugly words sound anything approaching pretty. He can't lie and say that he would have ever sought out Spike if he hadn't held out the white flag by helping him and his friends survive the Scourge for a second time. He doesn't believe that Spike would believe him if he tried it anyway.

"Don't beat your dead horse over it Angelus. I can't imagine that I would have gone to you under other circumstances so if I can accept that than you can suck it up and accept the truth yourself. We're as dysfunctional as a 'family' can get and still have the balls to call ourselves one." Spike admits bluntly, his fingers never stopping their slow languid movements on his guitar.

"So where does that leave us?" Angel asks with a wry expression.

"It leaves us sitting here pretending that we're not watching our friends making out six feet away."

Angel jerks and flies upward to sit up and turns to stare at an unrepentant Spike with his mouth open. His mouth opens and closes several times but the only sound to escape is a strangled choke. He falls forward and buries his face against Spike's leg and muffles his helpless chortles.

Spike looks down at his hysterical Sire and pats smiles happily, mentally patting his self on the back for a job well done. It's good for the Elder and way-too-uptight Vampire to cut loose once in a while and let his inner non-angst-having Vampire out to play. Back when their world was only as large as the distance between them, nights like this were as common as their admittedly legendary brawling.

It's one of the few things that he can honestly admit that he misses about Angelus. His Sire may have hit him as many times as he reached out to him in gentler emotion but he knew how to live; for a Vampire that is. Blood, Darla, Dru, Penn; and Lawson later on; fists, fangs, fun, murder, mayhem, no guilt, and sex; those were the good old days. He feels the aching emptiness of their missing family members; even Darla; and he knows that the holes they've left will never be filled.

He can feel Angel calming as he leans against him and as his muscles relax and he melts against him. "I've missed you my Lad." He can hear Angel's voice despite it being muffled against his leg and he finally quiets his guitar to reach down and stroke his hand through the thick mane of dark hair. He smiles as Angel arches up into the caress briefly before relaxing utterly boneless and quiescent and permits the liberties with his person.

"I've missed you too, Big Nancy." Spike quips saucily but his tone and caressing hand are gentle as he uses his free hand to carefully set his precious guitar into its case and close it securely.

"Do you all travel with instruments like that all the time?" Angel asks curiously without lifting his head from Spike's leg.

"Well a lot of the members in the Order have found the traditions and ways of Phae's people to be pleasant and have been converted I guess for want of a better word. It's a rare Elem that goes far from home without kith, kin, and a musical instrument in tow. It is how they maintain their close ties to each other and commune with their patron-deities. Unlike the Humans' idea of an all powerful 'God' that is responsible for everything, the Elem believe that the idea that one central unifying force between all things is certainly possible; they just think that it would be smart enough to know how to delegate." Spike explains in a low tone; so they don't disturb the totally oblivious Phaedra and Wes; and ruin their personal voyeuristic experience.

"So it's like the Greeks or Romans or Egyptians?" Angel asks, rolling onto his side and pillowing his head more comfortably on Spike's lap with a happy wiggle.

"It's similar only on the basest of levels. They believe that the 'One' is the central figure of a network of higher beings. They serve as administrators of the separate and diverse functions that it must take to keep things running smoothly." Spike explains, unconsciously revealing the highly intelligent and educated man that he was as a human and carefully maintained but hidden as a Vampire. "The 'Leaf Lord' is the Spirit of everything that grows, lives, and ultimately dies; the embodiment of Nature itself. Unlike the Humans of this plane, the Elem still touch the feet of their Gods though they don't really call them Gods. They see them as more approachable and not so much as divine but as revered mentors and protectors. In fact their language has no word for 'God' in it, the nearest translation equates to 'Lord' and 'Lady' and that title remains the highest form of respect that they have."

"One of Phaedra's titles...." Angel starts to say looking awed.

"Is 'Lady of the Ash River Clan; Lady of the Wood Realm and Daughter of the Leaf Lord's grace'. You didn't realize that she is the Queen of her people?" Spike realizes and looks slightly embarrassed since he should have explained better when he tried to tell Angel about the woman that helped to change his existence so much. "Phaedra is more than a direct descendant of the 'Leaf Lord' she is fact his daughter, born of the union between her Mother and the Spirit of Nature itself. She is not the only one to bear that honour but she is the one that her people have chosen to be his voice. She is the conduit, his means of touching the people that his blood has given rise to."

"She's a Seer like Cordelia and Doyle?" Angel asks.

"I didn't realize that the Prom Queen was a Seer too." Spike exclaims in surprise.

It's Angel's turn to look embarrassed. "It was an accident. Doyle thought that he was going to die when the Scourge first showed up in town. He kissed her and somehow Cordy managed to inherit the ability for some reason. Doyle still seems to get the visions from the Powers though, so we're not sure how they know why Cordy was made a Seer too." Angel admits.

"You told me that Doyle said that we've gummed up the works. Maybe your Mate had it right when he said that Wes and I changed what was supposed to happen in all this and so whatever plan the Powers had would have had to be changed too." Spike theorizes. "I'm not sure why they didn't interfere to stop her from becoming a Seer or why she doesn't have visions like Doyle does. It seems bloody strange to me that they don't try to alternate the visions between them so one isn't suffering the weight of the visions alone." He shrugs with confusion but Angel is a little surprised to see that there is the glimmer of knowledge deep in his eyes as well. Before he can ask a question Spike's thick eyelashes shutter his evocative eyes behind their lush fan of lashes. When the flicker up and away once more whatever he thought he saw there is gone and the question goes unvoiced.

"I haven't been able to figure out why one of the arguably; and more importantly self-proclaimed; most powerful forces in the known universe have to inflict pain. You'd think that they could manage to deliver messages without the headaches." Angel admits.

"Wes knows and he explained it to me when I asked that same question. There's a delicate balance that the Powers; the so-called Upper and Lower; have struck a balance. Wes called it a Devil's Bargain and I can't think of a better way to put it. They've created a way to make sure that neither side gains an advantage significant enough to tip that balance. Neither wins but the war never ends either but it goes on forever. The war goes on and they have something to do."

Angel turns his head to look up at Spike in shock and disgust. "That can't be right. Why bother to start something that they don't plan to win?"

"If either of them 'wins' then it all ends and everything resets and when it starts again they may not be in the same positions that they were when it ended. The Spiders lose their webs and have to start over again. Suppose they find out that they're not the biggest spiders around anymore? That's a big chance for beings used to wielding the power that they have." Spike points out.

"I guess that does make sense even if it's twisted and more than a little Machiavellian. What does that have to do with the pain that Doyle and other Seers for them go through?"

"You can't get something for nothing, everything has to cost something. The Powers are granted their Seers, Conduits, and other Servants but it's not free. They can communicate with their Plane-bound intermediaries but that ability is paid for in their pain. Wes did some investigating after we met Doyle. Though he admittedly doesn't seem to be very typical as Seers go; your Doyle that is and we haven't found what we expected to find. Nearly every Seer has some familial history of the ability as it; in almost every recorded case; runs in only certain bloodlines or at points where one or more of these bloodlines intersect. Doyle's maternal line has no history of being known to produce Seers and only one case was recorded in his paternal line. If we're going by every pattern followed before him, Doyle shouldn't be a Seer; for either side. I suppose if somehow became one spontaneously he at least lucked out somewhat with whom. The Seers and Messengers for the other side pay a much worse price for communion with their Overlords."

"So Doyle gets the messages, the warnings, and he can pass them on to me so that I can do their will here on our plane but he pays for it not them? That doesn't seem right."

"Has anything that we've been talking about for the last few minutes seemed 'fair' to you? There isn't much about 'right' or 'wrong' in life when you break it down Pet. Good people can do bad things, bad people can do good things if the motivation is there for them to make the choice. The Powers on either side can't interfere directly because if they try to then the other side is given a free pass and as we know, you never get anything for free. They have to get people to act as their agents and they're not above manipulating people into thinking that they've made a choice when they've very carefully made sure that you only have one choice to make."

"You're saying that when I thought that I chose to work for them...."

"Do you really think that anything that you've done hasn't been planned out for you? You spend a century wallowing in your soul and choking on guilt and suddenly you're needed to protect a little girl that you've never seen before? The Slayer is a pretty girl but still very much a little girl, even now, and frankly I wouldn't have said that she was your type, other than she was vulnerable, petite, and worshipped the ground that you walk on. She wasn't anything like Darla or Dru, the obsessions that attracted you before."

"You left a name off that list." Angel interrupts to add, tracing a fingertip along the muscles flexing under his cheek as Spike breathes softly in the necessity for speech.

Spike smiles in pleasure but doesn't comment on Angel's words as he continues. "They bring you to the Hellmouth, to play Guardian for a Slayer barely out of primary school but why? Why this particular Slayer and none of the ones that went before her? They bring you to town, give you an innocent little girl to brood over and then they make sure that you'll never be together without risking the soul they refuse to anchor? A girl that you can't have without turning into a Monster, a town that doesn't need a back-up superhero with her toadies here to help her and the same sidekicks that barely tolerate you?" Spike looks down at Angel; who is staring back up at him. "Still think that the decision to go to LA was one that you made?"

"I... I left because I knew that I couldn't stay. I don't think that I ever questioned why in depth. I just knew that if I stayed here, Angelus would get free sooner or later." Angel admits.

"So how did you decide to where to go? You were in LA before. I know you Angelus, you're not one for going back to live in the places you've already lived before. That would make you predictable and as you taught me a Vampire that can be predicted is one that can be dusted easily. It was one of the first things that you taught me when I was newly fledged."

"How did you know...?"

"How did I know that you'd lived in LA before?" Spike completes Angel's thought for him. "Penn; remember? He had the Order keep track of you and Dru and me. I'm sure he knew where you were before he was named to the head of the Order though. He always knew where Dru and I were since he'd eventually turn up wherever we were if we stayed in one place long enough. He's probably always had us watched; that was just how he was; responsible to the end."

"You're right." Angel agrees; he can't fault Spike's logic since Penn likely had been watching all of them from afar. "I did teach you not to go back to places you've spent any lengthy time in since it was always possible that someone could find out where that was and try and lay a trap for you there." He admits.

"Yet you not only go back to LA but you go back to the very same Hotel you were living in at the time, bought it, and made it your lair as well as your office?" Spike reminds him with a quirked brow. "The Vampire that I used to know wouldn't have made such a careless mistake. Why did you choose LA and why go back to the Hyperion of all places?"

Angel's brow furrows as he thinks about Spike's question and comes to the realization that he can't answer. He's never really stopped to look at the decisions that he's made since he left for LA objectively. His actions don't actually make sense and he has made several naïvely rookie mistakes that he would have beaten his Childer for making in his Angelus age.

"I'm not sure why I chose LA." Angel muses. "I heard Cordy talking to Xander once about possibly moving there to try and become an actress after graduation. He was upset but she convinced him it wasn't far away and she could easily visit him on the weekend." Angel shrugs his shoulders. "I guess that's where I first got the idea to move there too. It was somewhere that I could try and redeem myself but it was far enough away from Buffy that I wouldn't be too tempted." Angel grimaces. "But not so far away that I'd feel guilty about going when she might need my help one night. It was just far enough away but I guess not too far at the same time."

"So the Prom Queen provided the where by a chance conversation you overheard. So why did you go back to that bloody hotel? It's not like it had pleasant memories attached far as Penn could discover." Spike reminds him.

"I... I guess I just wanted something familiar and the Hyperion fit the bill." Angel confesses. "I was feeling a little disconnected from everything at the time, like I was drifting without a compass. I'd left so much behind that I just wanted something back that made me feel like I wasn't a stranger."

"You were disconnected because the Powers brought you to this Hell-hole, showed you the shiny, innocent, blonde prize, and then made sure you'd have to leave it behind you again. Let's not forget what else happened while you were in this buggered to blazes town either." Spike points out with a fierce expression. "You dusted Darla, got used and abused by the Slayer's chums, hurt Dru, hurt your Slayer's precious Father Figure and killed his Bird...." He ticks off the lowest points of Angel's less than spectacular Sunnydale experience.

"You forgot to count yourself. I hurt you too. And I hurt Penn and Lawson before I came here." Angel points out, albeit reluctantly as he never admits his mistakes gracefully in most circumstances but that's something that he has to change if he's going to hold on to Spike. He has to admit to the mistakes that he's made and will probably continue to make where his secretly sensitive Childe is concerned, if they're going to break the pattern that's kept them at each other's throats for so long.

"I was making a point; not pointing the finger of blame. You've made what you thought were the best choices only they weren't choices at all if those wankers went to pains not to leave you any decisions to make for yourself. They've been pulling your strings and making you move like their private puppet show. Don't you think that it's past time to cut those strings?"

"Being anyone's puppet isn't appealing but what...." Angel trails off and looks uncertain and worried. "What if I need the strings? If I've never done this on my own, what if I can't? What if I'm not good because I wanted to be? Souls don't mean...."

Spike calmly reaches down and presses his fingertips to Angel's lips and stops the litany pouring out. "It buggers your head up no end not to know everything doesn't it?" He sighs wearily and tries to reach for the threads of patience that he still uses far less than he should he knows. "It might come as a shock to you but most of us have managed to blunder along without some 'Wankers-That-Be' planning our existences out. It's not easy and anyone that says it is well they're bloody lying to make themselves feel better." He advises Angel with blunt honesty.

He slowly removes his fingers from Angel's lips after a lingering gentle pressure urging his now willing silence. "It means that you're going to make mistakes; we all do. Knowing Wes and Phae has taught me that there's surprisingly little that genuinely trying your best can screw up so badly that you can't fix it. That's the key, the great mystery of it all. We try our best and if we fuck up then we try and fix it, figure out what we did wrong, learn from it, and move on. That's one of the things that I've been trying to do. Learn from the past Angelus, don't live in it." Spike advises him in a deadly serious tone.

"You've got the chance to make the choice that they made for you. You can do the spell and still be who and what you are Angelus if that's what you choose to be. You just have to choose; like the Humans do. Will you be a good person or will you be a bad one but you can't continue to do both. As long as you do Angelus will always be the sword of Damocles over your life; one that is just waiting to fall and slice it to bits."

Angel looks up at Spike wondering for the first time just who it is that he's looking at. Did he ever really know his Childe? In his arrogance Angelus would believe that he had and did and even now his Demon whispers that very thing through his being. He knows that it's not true but more than ever he wants the chance to get to know him.

"When did you grow up to be the wise one?" He asks, reaching up to trace random patterns on an angled cheekbone.

Spike shrugs self-consciously. "I had a bit of help in that department." He gestures in the direction of the very distracted pair making out without a care in the world.

"They may have helped but like my Da always said, you can't grow anything on unfertile ground. You've always had a way of cutting through the bullshit to see why people do the things that they do and a singular way of driving home your advice once you do." Angel admits; both to himself and to Spike too.

"I'm a Seducer, we're bred to read emotions," Spike downplays the talent and looks away and drops his eyes. "And we learn quickly to manipulate them to our end." He adds in a low tone.

Angel's eyes blaze as his mind replays the image of a helpless Riley Finn with Spike's fangs sunk deep into his neck. A soldier trained and unleashed to kill their kind straining to get closer to the death his Childe's embrace promised with needful moans and pained whimpers. He was willing to face death willingly for what Spike was making him feel and that's foreign to him.

He barely remembers his own turning; having had more than a few drinks leading up to that moment. What little his does remember are mere flashes dulled by the haze of alcohol; that hadn't dissipated from his dying body; and he wonders now what it was that he can't remember about the event that transformed him. From what little he can remember clearly his siring was about as momentous as his nightly tumble with some nameless 'light-skirt' against an alley wall and as cheaply sold. He abandoned his life with little more protest than those prostitutes did their virtue, only the coin he paid in was blood instead of money.

Darla was herself a Seducer; though arguably Spike seems to be stronger in that gift than his Sire was; but she seemed to expend little effort in taking him. As drunk as he was; it was probably unnecessary he admits; having taken more than a few of his easier meals in the same way. It was only some whim on her part that he was sired and not left to rot dead in the refuse of the alley he'd died in? Why can't he remember? Did he yearn for his death like Finn had for what could have been his? His own experience with siring was much less... seductive... and more about taking what he wanted without regard for man or God for that matter. The thrill of stealing innocent souls from a useless God was his drug of choice and he never bothered to make them want to be damned. Suddenly he wants to know what can drive a man into such frenzy as to reach out to death and welcome it....

"Wesley tried to explain it to me... what happened after we left Finn at the club I mean." Angel sucks in a deep breath and powers through in a rush of air and sound. "I'm sorry Spike." He shudders faintly in the aftermath of what may well be the first sincere apology he's given since he was sired!

Oh he's said that he's sorry before on scattered occasions he knows but it's his secret that he's never really felt the regret that should have led to it. He said it because it was expected and a matter of conscience; not because he felt it. He hasn't felt regret since he was sired. That is the greatest secret that he's kept for over a century.

The conscience imposed by his soul motivates him to behave in ways that humans would understand; including apologizing over arguably stupid things; and approve of but he feels as a Demon feels not as a Man. He is after all a Vampire and not a Man. He'll never tell anyone how much it galled him to apologize for killing some stupid pet FISH and he could barely force the words out. If the conscience hadn't bullied him into doing it; he wouldn't have bothered. It was probably a kindness to give the poor things a swift end instead of lives swimming around entertaining fickle Humans. Only Humans would find it amusing to trap wild creatures in prisons of water and glass for their amusement anyway.

"I'm still not completely sure that I understand it all but I know that I was wrong to ask you to distract Finn when I didn't bother to ask you if it was safe for you to do it." Angel continues; finding it a tiny bit easier with every word. "Wesley said that Finn is going to be more of a danger to you than ever. Is that true?"

"Finn is...." Spike trails off as he fights down a shudder at the memory of what he tasted in Finn's heavily drug-laced blood.

"He may not be a Demon but I have real doubts that he's Human either. I don't think that I could explain it but they've managed to 'program' him as much as any computer and whatever he started out as that's not what he is now. He may not have the mechanics of a machine but that's what they're turning him into. He's a lot stronger than a Human should be; I know that much for sure. He's not as strong as a Slayer or a Vampire but still he's far stronger than he should be. I think that the drugs they've been feeding him are responsible for that. I'm not even sure that he knows what all they've done to him; or cares. He's unusually susceptible to me so I'd guess that they've deliberately fostered that trait in him and the other Bastards they've got doing their grunt work. It's probably what makes them prone to whatever they're using to keep them on their leashes."

"It's like chemical brainwashing? Can it be broken or removed?" Angel asks looking sickened. He can't honestly say if it's over what the humans have done to each other or the fact that he may end up trying to help rather than kill Finn though.

"Broken maybe; removed I doubt it; I'm not sure there'd be anything left of them if we tried though. Some of them are obviously farther along in the process than others and that's probably deliberate to avoid raising suspicions about the advanced cases. Miller didn't seem to be as bad as Finn so there may be a way to help him but not Finn or the ones like him." Spike decides after a few seconds to think about it. "I think they'll always be affected like Sam is."

"Do you think that their experiments on Sam could be part of what's happened to Finn?"

"Anything is possible. Until one of the hackers cracks their encryption we'll never know for sure. He may have always been a sociopath for all we know. I don't think Finn even knows that he's been reduced to a toy soldier. He's utterly convinced that what he's doing is right and justified. Some part of him still cares for Sam; it's laced through his blood like a drug; but it didn't stop him from brutalizing her. Or helping them to try and take her apart a gene at a time."

"We should just kill the Sonofabitch." Angel decides in a flat, unemotional tone.

"Sam has no intention of letting Finn out of this town alive. It doesn't matter if he can be helped; she wants blood and flesh for her pain. Short of killing her nothing is going to stop her from going after Finn and I won't kill her. For Nyla's sake I've done my best to keep her safe; even from herself but she needs to confront him."

"And if Finn kills her instead of the other way around?"

"I can't protect her from that. It's all that keeps her hanging on. If I take her revenge away from her I'd be killing her as much as Finn if that happened. Sam...." Spike trails off and his eyes slip shut.

"She's a remarkable woman. She protected her child; even if she was the product of violence; and delivered her safely into hands that would love her forever and will never leave her alone. Other parents could wish for as much for their children and Sam knows that her daughter will have that. Whatever it is that Nyla grows up to be you and the others will be there helping her and caring for her but no help in the world is going to be enough to save Sam. There's nothing more that the Healers can do for her; both you and Wesley have told me that and she has to know that as well. She'll never escape what the Initiative did to her as long as it's standing and Finn is breathing. If they had caught you I know that you would have fought to the last to get free and dusted rather than exist in their cages. This is Sam's real escape. We can give that to her; the Initiative burning to ash and slag and give her the chance to get to Finn but that's all that we can do. The rest of it is for her to do. She'll be free one way or another but you told me yourself that she doesn't plan to come back with us." Angel points out gently but implacably.

"So I take her body home and bury her with honour if she gets herself killed now or I come back and do it later when she's finally tried to fight something that she can't beat. Either way I'll be burying my friend." Spike comments sadly; shaking his head in mute and futile denial of accepting it but his body language betrays him.

Spike's mourning weighs heavily on him and Angel can almost see it as a tangible presence.

"You'll be burying a friend that fought bravely and died well. Better a Warrior's swift glory than the endless days of a Slave's life. It's said that those were the words of Marcus Aurelius himself in the time before he was taken by an Old One and became the founder of our Order. She'll never have a normal life Spike; they've taken too much from her." Angel tries to comfort and counsel his Childe but inside he's raging as much against her fate as his Boy is but he's the Sire and he has to be strong and support him.

He rises and turns until he's facing Spike and cups those marvellous cheekbones and pulls him so close that he's almost sitting on his lap. "You told me that Phaedra and her people have helped you to understand and live with your Demons; both the one my blood gave you and the ones that time has brought...." His hands bob slightly as Spike nods, carrying his caressing hands along for the ride. "How great is Samantha's torment that they can't bring her that peace? She's trapped William. Why other reason would there be for spending the majority of her time in her suite; which is mostly glass walls and skylights from what little I saw on the brief stay. She's afraid of being closed in by walls isn't she? She wants to be free; for the memories to stop. If I hadn't been an unconscionable Bastard I'd have spared Dru having to live in her madness. I should have taken her and let her die instead of cursing her to an eternity of madness."

Angel takes in a deep breath and releases a final decisive blow. "Sam's peace is going to be the silence of the grave. She'll never stop looking for it until she finds it. I know that you know how to recognize what's happened to her Lad. You've seen it before haven't you? When you show them what you really are and they walk to their deaths for you anyway."

"...In so many faces, in too many places." Spike murmurs quietly in reply. "Darla... she tried to tell me what a Seducer's life was like but I didn't stop fighting long enough to listen. I think that I'd rather live by fists and fangs."

He thinks back to the Slayers; seeing the tiredness and readiness in their eyes; the death-wish that ultimately brings them all low. He's seen it before in others since and felt it more acutely still in the last few years as he's relied on his Seducer talents to feed almost exclusively. He wishes that he'd listened to Darla's cautions about using his exotic talent and letting it develop too much; how it could in time become difficult to control.

"Phaedra mentioned Darla to me once." Angel recalls. "Did she really try to help you?"

"She tried to help me because it helped her too." Spike replies, snapping out of his silent reverie. "The Master kept her close because of what she could do and she knew it. She didn't want to chance that he'd find out that I was a Seducer too. Especially since I seemed to be stronger than she was in that way; she didn't want him to find that out either. I guess she was worried that he'd replace her but I would have dusted myself first. Ole Bat-Face was hideous."

"He was wasn't he?" Angel shudders at the few close calls he had with their Order's elder as a Fledgling himself. Fortunately; or so he thought back then before it became a painful annoyance and hindrance to his relationship with his Childer; Darla's possessive eclipsed that of her Sire and she refused to share him.

It resulted in their exile for many years but he never found that any great hardship to endure. Even after the Master deigned to allow his once-again Favoured Childe back into his court; he ordered that Darla attend him alone or rarely with Drusilla in tow if the Master thought to use her visions for his own ends. As for him; and later oh-so proper Penn and his untamed and independent William; he was spared; to a mercifully large degree from having to suffer the Master's attentions. There was no question that he would be fiercely protective of his boys and neither had spent more than a fleeting few hours in the old Bastard's company while he was around to stop it

He turns his hand to brush the back of his hand down the side of Spike's face in a gentle caress. "I was the world's worst Sire but I hope that I was able to spare you some horrors."

Spike sighs and moves his cheek against Angel's touch. "After you... left... Darla stayed with us for a time and then she decided we were all going to go to the Master's court."

"SHE WAS TAKING YOU TO LIVE WITH THAT MELTED FACED BASTARD?" Angel growls viciously, his features rippling as his Demon rages against the betrayal of his Sire.

"That was her intention but it never happened. Penn had heard that you'd left and arrived to find out what happened to you. When he found out that it was Darla's 'gift' that had gotten you cursed by that gypsy Clan he was furious. Darla tried to pull her Queen Bee routine and ordered him to join us again but that backfired on her. Penn hadn't forgotten that she was the reason that you'd sent him away and she had forgotten that because of that he was every bit as strong as you. He'd been a Master of no small repute and the head of his bloodline for years. Grand-Sire or not Darla wasn't strong enough to force her will on him and he drove her off. Penn packed us up and took us with him. We stayed with him for a few years but in the end I couldn't stay with him. He was too much like you but at the same time he wasn't you."

"If he was like me enough to take my place and take care of you and Dru then I did my job." Angel announces. "For the record and accuracy's sake Darla wasn't the reason why I sent Penn away though she did get it into her head that she was. I let her think it but it wasn't anything to do with her." Angel confesses as he strokes Spike's cheek. "It had everything to do with you."

Spike tries to rear backwards in shock but Angel's hold changes and his hand slips down to curl around his nape and keeps him from moving very far. "You sent Penn away because of me?"

"Penn was my shadow; he wanted to be me and to possess everything that belonged to me. It was my fault. He was what I created him to be and in my arrogance I ignored just how dangerous he could be. I could see him watching you and I knew what he was thinking. I was thinking it too every time that I looked at you but you were never Penn's; you were mine." Angel's hand tightens unconsciously and he quickly loosens it with an apologetic grimace as Spike winces in pain. He rubs the sting away with a gentle caress.

"His minor challenges amused me until I realized that he was coveting my prize. If I had let him stay we'd have come to blows over you and Childe or not I would have killed him rather than lose you. He was my Boy too and I didn't want to dust him so I drove him away. Darla assumed it was over her and I let her. I'm sure that Penn knew the truth but I think he knew he wouldn't dust me. He chose to leave before we fought over you and one of us died. It worked for him since he ended up with you eventually despite everything that I risked to keep you." Angel moves until he's lying down with his head pillowed on Spike's lap. He sighs and goes boneless as Spike's fingers sink into his hair and stroke through the short strands.

"I always wondered why he came so quickly after you left us and then forced Darla to leave us with him while she went to the Master's court. I know that he cared about us but it still took some kind of balls to go toe to toe with Darla back then. You remember how important the Lore was to Penn and overriding the wishes of his Sire's Sire violated that. He wouldn't have done that lightly. She may have been a twat but she was strong and she could scrap with the best of em when she lowered herself to bother. He was taking a big chance. Darla could have used her position to turn the Master against him... us."

"Was Darla aware of how strong your Seducer abilities were then?" Angel asks suspiciously.

"She knew but she didn't know how strong I was; I didn't either. Back then I didn't use it much. I was a little afraid of it. I'd rather scrap it out. Fists, fangs, and sod all else just like you taught me." Realization sweeps over Spike's features and his eyes narrow in suspicion. "Angelus... why it you were you so determined to make me a fighter and make sure that fighting is always my first response? Did you know what I could do? What I was, am?"

Angel looks sheepish and shrugs futilely. "I don't think that I knew consciously but I knew that there was something different about you from the first moment that I met you. You were so strong. I'd never felt anything like it and that's saying something. Penn and Dru were both unusually strong for their age as well but that didn't account for you. The blood of our line is very strong because it's so close to the source. Our line is directly descended from Marcus Aurelius himself and the blood of every Master of the Order is in our veins. That means we're all stronger than other Vampires; sometimes that includes much old ones aren't as strong as we are."

"That's why the Master chose you as his Successor right?" Spike interjects.

"So he claimed but in truth I think that he knew that I would only grow stronger with age and one day I would be a genuine threat to his position in the Order. Naming me his successor was a political move on his part and as much as it galls me to admit it now it was a smart move."

"I get it. If he named you as his successor than that was as good as saying that you were the future Master of the Order and gave you the distinction of being his heir. He probably assumed that would be enough to prevent any of his underlings from getting the idea to rally around you and raising a coup? If you were already the heir all they'd have to do is wait it out and you'd be Master eventually. The Master was old but he wasn't nearly as strong as his years should have seen him being. I probably could have taken the Old Bat out myself."

Angel sits up and abruptly inverts their positions and Spike suddenly finds himself ensconced on Angel's lap being held tightly but comfortingly.

"That's my point Spike. You're much stronger than you should be and every year sees your strength growing but that shouldn't have happened. Our blood is strong as I said and you know but it's also a fact that it weakens with distance. Penn; though close to me in strength due to our ages was very strong; wasn't as strong as I am or was back then. Drusilla was weaker than Penn; probably because of her visions or the fact that I tortured her so badly before I changed her. I'm still not sure truthfully why Drusilla was so insane. I tortured her true but it's almost as if her Demon itself was insane as well. Between you and I; I'd sired her with the assumption that her Demon would compensate for whatever I'd done to her human self and it should have."

"Well little wonder, Mate. Haven't you figured it out yet?" Spike exclaims quietly in surprise. "I'd have thought that you would have knowing the Mick and the Cheerleader and all."

"What do you mean Spike? What about Doyle and Cordelia? What do they have to do with Drusilla?" Angel asks; his brow furrowed in confusion.

"They're Seers Pet. I know that Doyle is a half-breed but I'll bet that your Looker isn't the all-American human she was born either; not anymore."

Angel looks startled. "She's part Mavis. The Powers did it because the visions were damaging for her and they were slowly killing her. She was being driven mad by the pain."

Spike nods; glad that his instincts are still as sharp as ever. Mavis Demons are a benign species of Nymph-like Water Spirits that are known for their beauty and mercurial natures as well as the fact that they're all but indistinguishable from human women; even to the majority of Demons. It seems a fair match for the proud and outspoken brunette.

"If the visions can damage a human to the point that being at least partly a Demon is a necessity wouldn't it work the other way too? It takes the Demon and the soul to keep their brains from melting. Did you stop to wonder what giving a Demon visions from a human would do the Demon that was never meant to have that gift?"

Angel's mouth drops open in shock and he sucks in a startled breath that leaks out as a pained hiss. "God I drove her insane twice."

Spike nods, sighing sadly at his poor Princess's suffering and while he misses her presence in the back of his mind he can't regret that she's at rest finally. "She had a difficult time with the visions as a human but was managing a fairly normal life. As a Demon it was worse since she didn't have her humanity to help buffer the Demon from them. If your Powers hadn't stepped in the Prom Queen would have eventually been as barmy as Dru was."

"That just makes you all the more remarkable!" Angel exclaims quietly. "The blood is always weaker the farther it's filtered. I was stronger than Penn and Dru because in siring them, the blood they received from me was weakened by the process of creating them. That's as close to a natural law as Vampires can get. Childer are never stronger than their Sires; unless their Sires have been physically weakened in some way like injury or the effects of magic...." His voice trails off to silence.

He looks down at Spike's upturned face in wonder. "You've always been stronger than Dru is and that should have been impossible. You could have taken Penn I suspect; even before," Angel gestures around them. "All of this and the changes... and you have matched me on more than one occasion even if we've never been able to do each other in." His eyes widen and he hurries to add. "I know that we've never tried that hard...." Angel swallows heavily, the images of Penn, Drusilla, and Lawson floating unseen behind his eyes urge him on. "I swear to you Spike whatever happens that you'll always be my Childe and you'll never die by my hand or because I didn't try to protect you. All of these humans around us will all die and we'll still be here and I want you to be with me. I don't want to be alone. I need you and the forever we can have together. Even if it turns out to be all that we have are days, weeks, months.... I want you to stay and I need for you to teach me how to do that. I don't want to run away anymore."

"It's not so hard Angel. It's not something you think about or have to learn. It's just something that you do. If it's something that you have to make yourself do I'd rather you left now while I can still fool myself into thinking that it won't hurt like hell and I won't miss you."

Angel tightens his arms around Spike and lowers his head to stroke his cheek through his hair, smiling as the soft mane caresses his skin. He's glad that Spike has let his hair grow out and that the longer length tames his curl and wave abundant hair enough that he foregoes anything more than the lightest touch of hair product.

"I left because I didn't think that I could stay and I was still looking for where I'm supposed to be. I guess the Powers did use that to manipulate me but I've figured it out now. I've been restless because what I left to look for was something, someone, I'd foolishly left behind so it's no wonder that I never found what I was looking for. I never thought the answer would be somewhere I'd already been. I know where I belong and I'm not going anywhere." Angel promises as much for his benefit as for Spike's knowledge.

He can see that as much as Spike wants to believe him that there is still a shadow of doubt hovering there and he continues hurriedly. Only time will make those doubts fade and nothing that he says will change that or speed it up. He's hurt Spike too much to be forgiven and believed in that easily. He tries to regain his train of thought and not dwell on something that only time will change.

"As I was saying before, you're an anomaly as Vampires go Spike. Darla probably thought to use you in some way at the Master's court. She likely felt that she had some measure of control over you since you were young and your Sire had," Angel grimaces. "Well I had abandoned you before you were ready." He admits honestly. "When Penn interfered with her plan she was forced to leave you with him and return to that old Bastard alone. I promise you the last thing that she would have wanted is for the Master to find out about you when she didn't have you under her thumb. She was possibly the reason why you weren't brought before the Master which was the tradition in those days."

"What do you mean? There was a tradition that I didn't know about? What was it?" Spike asks in curiously but he's inwardly glad that it's one tradition that he missed all the same.

"It was an old tradition that even most of the oldest Orders had abandoned but the Master chose to follow it because of the political power it gained him. When a Master was dusted or in some other way removed from the Order several things happened. The assets, lands, and material possessions that they possessed reverted to the Master of the Order. The Master would use them to reward the Masters that were loyal to him and punish those he felt were against him at the same time. One of the most valuable assets was any Childer that had yet to be 'released' by their Sire. The other Masters of the Order presented their case in an effort to have the Childer assigned to them as fosterlings. The stronger the 'orphaned' Childe was; the greater their potential; the more valuable they were and the political jockeying could easily reach violence." Angel explains recalling several instances where murder and insurrections arose over such Childer. In one memorable case half of the Middle East was in flames and a mighty Empire all but fell as the Order's most powerful Masters fought over one lovely Childe of the Order.

"You as Dru's Childe would have been insulated somewhat from the proceedings but Dru would have been a ripe prize. Because of her madness I knew that she would never survive for very long on her own so I never released her or allowed her to take the Master's Challenge. She was more than strong enough and eventually she was considered to be a Master in her own right but still she was a Master in chains and tied to me. Her visions were useful and since she had you and you had yet to take the Challenge and be named a Master officially you would have went with her to her new Sire. For a Master to have the two of you, but you especially, it would have been a coup. The potential was always in you Spike and you've lived up to it."

Angel motions around them with a quick sweep of his arm before hurriedly wrapping it around his deceptively smaller Childe. Despite his smaller build and comparative youth that Spike is one of the strongest Master Vampires in the world is beyond dispute. "You have done something that all of the Masters before you have failed to do. You've given us a future and freed the Order from the chains holding it locked in the past. Aurelius stands once more at the forefront of the Demon world, our glory is restored."

"I haven't done it alone. Phae and Wes have helped me with their advice and they're excellent advisors." Spike states in a dismissive tone.

"There can be greater wisdom in listening than talking. I'm sure that their advice was wise but you were the one that chose to follow their suggestions. I know that you were the one that convinced Aaron and the others. I know my Brother well and he has never suffered fools gladly. He chose exile rather than have his actions dictated by anyone else and he has chosen to follow you and entrusted the future of his bloodline to your direction. That says a lot." Angel counters.

"Family has always mattered to Aaron above all things. He reminds me of Penn...." Angel trails off as his throat closes as the pain at the loss of his first-sired is renewed again.

"Aaron was kind to Penn after he... left... us. He let Penn stay with him and his Childe Erick for a time and taught him a lot about how to survive as a lone Master. They were close friends and remained so right up to his death. The first thing that Penn did after he was elected the Master of the Order was to reinstate Aaron's position as a Master in good standing. I think that Aaron transferred his support so quickly because he knew that Penn cared for me."

"Penn loved you." Angel interrupts to add. "From the moment that he saw you, he wanted you and would have fought me for you." Mourning for Penn isn't enough to take the edge off his anger and envy.

That his eldest should have been so forward as to adopt his younger 'siblings' in flagrant disregard for his position is vexing for the Demon part of him to swallow. Angelus was always unreasoningly possessive but never more so than over Spike and Penn knew that. The souled part of him is glad that Penn stepped in to shelter the youngest of their family but the sting of jealousy isn't absent for him either.

"Penn did love me but not as much as he loved you." Spike argues back. "You said it yourself, you sent him away and he went. If you didn't matter to him than he would have stayed and fought for me like you said."

Angel's head flies back in stunned amazement as he realizes that Spike has revealed a truth that has eluded him for over a century!

"Penn loved me; I'll even say that he was in love with me; but he knew that I wasn't the one that would share his life or his bed permanently. If you had seen how happy he was with Lawson...."

"I'm glad that they could find what they needed in each other since I couldn't provide it. Did they ever forgive me Spike?"

"They understood why you did what you did but I can't say for sure whether or not they forgave you. Lawson never really knew you to miss you but I know that Penn did. He spoke of Angelus often and fondly. He wasn't quite as enamoured of your souled half of course but he made sure that the Order did what little it could to protect you from the other Orders."

"How much of that was because of you?" Angel asks suspiciously.

"I may have said a little something but he was already moving in that direction because that's what he wanted to do." Spike explains. "I didn't have to convince or bribe him to do it if that's the bug that crawled up your....."

Angel drops his head swiftly and catches the last word in Spike's mouth with a quieting kiss.

He looks up at the sky and sees that the rain clouds are still firmly blanketing the heavens. Dawn probably isn't going to pose much of a threat with that kind of cloud cover but he's not going to bet their health and safety on it. The weather in Sunnydale is about as predictable as Spike; hence it's impossible to guess what it'll do next.

"It's getting late; we should go inside and leave Wes and Phaedra to their trysting." He decides, lumbering to his feet without releasing Spike, his strength easily carrying them both upward.

Spike looks down with a disconcerted expression, wiggling his booted feet, and looking down at the grass a foot below his hovering feet. "It's a bit difficult to walk this way."

Angel laughs heartily and refuses to put Spike down, carrying the stunned blond inside as easily as a puppy. "You'll be sleeping in my bed," Angel looks over his shoulder as the oblivious pair enjoys their pre-dawn coupling. "It looks like Wesley's is going to be crowded today."

"I do have a room of my own you know that I can sleep in." Spike counters, not able to stop his struggling to be free but his position isn't affording him much to work with at all.

Angel marvels at the strength he can feel beneath his hands as Spike tries to find the leverage that will allow him to break the hold he has on him. If he wasn't physically larger than Spike and with the strength and experience of a Master Vampire over two hundred years old he wouldn't be surprised if the blond would have gotten free easily.

"You have a room to sleep in, mine, and it will suit us both just fine." Angel states implacably. "You are my Childe and you'll sleep with me."

"I'm not sleeping with you," Spike argues and Angel opens his mouth to argue. "You're leaving my favourite guitar outside and it's probably going to rain again later. It gets waterlogged and I'm not speaking to you for a decade!" Spike swears in a calm and even tone.

Angel drops him to his feet in shock. He knows that tone very well and believes that Spike means what he says. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was that important to you and I forgot about it or I'd have picked it up too." He admits. "Fetch your Precious and then join me in our room MY Precious. I want to know more about your Seducer talent. I want you to show me...."

Spike throws up his hand. "That's dangerous for us to go playing with. The effects on Demons and Vampires in particular are even more pronounced than they are in humans like Finn. You won't become physically addicted like some humans but the experience can be very... intense and overwhelming; for both of us. It's more than claiming but less than mating. It can still form a bond... it's difficult to explain."

Angel steps forward and curls his hand around Spike's nape and pulls him forward inexorably forcing Spike up onto the balls of his feet as he continues pulling him. He drops his forehead until he can press it tenderly against the blond's and sighs. "I don't want or need an explanation Spike. I want you to show me. Dru may have been the first Vampire to sink her fangs into you but I'm going to be the last. I'm your goddamned SIRE Boy, and claiming, mating, everything else that you could imagine will never eclipse or break the ties that bind you to me. If there is another tie that we don't have then we're going to damn well get it. You're not leaving me and I'm not leaving you." Angel swears and he can feel his Demon howling his agreement to the pact. "You'd better get used to me in your life Spike. I'm going to be in it for a long, long time."

Angel slowly releases his hold on Spike's nape and almost whimpers as he feels the blond's muscles straining to keep them pressed together. His Childe may not know it consciously yet but his body knows what it wants. Whatever his Boy is evolving into, he wants him and he's going to make sure that he gets him.

"When we get back Wesley will go ahead with the preparations to do the spell. You deserve a Sire that's whole and knows where his priorities lay and I can give that to you; we can. Get your guitar and come to bed. Maybe we can make something good come out of this visit. We all know this cursed town can't be good for much else." Angel uses his hands to gently urge Spike down off the balls of his feet and gives him a soft push in the direction of his guitar case.

As Spike obligingly jogs after his beloved guitar Angel opens the patio doors and strides inside; muttering about the idiots that thought building a human town on top of the mouth of Hell was a good idea.

Spike picks up his guitar silently and goes to slip past Wes and Phaedra when a hand curls around his ankle stopping him.

"Be careful Will. Bonding yourself to Angel isn't going to make everything go away like magic. There are still issues to be...." Wesley cautions him, betraying the fact that he wasn't as oblivious as it seems.

"I know Wes but he's offering me what I've always wanted so how can I not take the chance? I take it and he hurts me or I never try and it still hurts me and maybe worse when he finds someone else. If it's a choice between risking it all and maybe losing or risking nothing and definitely losing him than I'm going to fight for him."

"Even if the one you're fighting is him? Angel's always been his worst enemy from what I've observed and from what you've told me."

Spike tilts his head and smiles saucily. "Don't worry Wes; fighting is what I'm best at and he still thinks of me as the Fledge he knew. I'll have him bagged and tagged before he knows what happened to him." With a jaunty wave and a feisty wiggle of his rear Spike stalks inside.

"You're wrong. Fighting isn't what you're best at Will." Wesley whispers as his eyes follow him until he can't see him anymore.

Phaedra's loving hand cups his face and turns his attention back to her. "Does he know that you love him; that you want the both of them?"

Wesley sighs and lets his head flops back into the grass. "He's an empath Phae, how can he not know how I feel about him, them?"

"Empathy is neither an exact skill nor is it one that can be learned easily or quickly. Emotions are tricky to read because of the subtleties that differentiate between degrees. Affection at its deepest level very much resembles the first levels of love. It takes experience and training to learn to read the truth. William while highly intuitive and unusually adept for his age may still not be able to tell what the kind of love you have for him is." Phaedra calmly points out. "There is no magic that will ever completely replace the spoken word among your species Wesley. There are some truths that still have to be spoken. You should tell him, tell them, the truth of what you feel for them." She isn't offended by Wesley trying to forget in her arms; she's as guilty of seeking solace as he. Her long-dead Mate and his William and now the newly arrived Elder Vampire.... They make a fine; if not permanent; pair.

Wesley looks away from Phaedra's knowing gaze. "I'm not as brave as Will is. Drusilla came between Angel and Spike and it destroyed them all. I don't want Will to feel that he's sharing Angel again and I can't risk that asking him to will betray the trust he has in me. I can't walk away from Will if it doesn't work out; we're bound together. We've got time for things to change and maybe later we can have more but for now he'll be my Brother. That will have to be enough because I'm not strong enough to risk everything but they are and it scares me even though I'm proud of them. I have to let them go if I ever hope to get them back." He looks up at Phaedra and lifts his hand to trace her jaw. "Will you help me, be with me; help me be strong enough to let them go?"

"You're stronger than you know 'Little Human' and braver too." Phaedra slowly lowers her head and meets Wesley's lifting mouth as they sink into each other and forget their troubles for a while.

Theirs isn't a passion to last the ages but sometimes one night at a time can be enough to get you through life.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Angel looks around him in shock and no small amount of awe. The clearing that Phaedra directed them to is larger than a football field and nearly one and a half times as wide. It can barely hold the rank and file of the Demon nations crowding its borders. Demons of every size and description are represented and there are some that he's never seen before. Other species that he'd thought were extinct; erroneously now it seems as the number present would seem to belie that assumption.

He can understand why Wesley, Spike, and the recently arrived Aaron insisted that it would take a couple of days to assemble his 'troops' for review. Much of that time was spent dodging Giles' attempts to push his way into the planning sessions and working feverishly on a plan to prevent any fighting as the trio decided which group was to stand where. As his eyes look over the rainbow of species he can see why it was so important as prey species are within sight of their predators and rival factions and warring nations alike are probably all in closer proximity than they've been in centuries. To his surprise though, there hasn't been any fighting or even posturing for appearances sake. It's in that moment that Angel realizes the true magnitude of what he's seeing. The Demon nation as a whole hates the Initiative more than they value the wars and skirmishes that have been around so long that they've become part of their cultures. If they fail in Sunnydale, the Demons will unite and move on humanity and it will be Armageddon.

Angel's eyes look to the front and the place of honour that has been given to his Order and his heart aches to see how few of them there are but it's curiously mixed with pride too. Even though they're one of the smallest of the Orders in the assembly the deference being shown to them shouts their importance loudly. He knows that Aurelius is home to some of the world's strongest Vampires and the respect being shown to them is a pleasant surprise.

He can feel the thrilling tinge of fear from behind him that draws him up to stand more proudly before the assemblage than he had in over a century. He debated the wisdom of allowing Giles to accompany them; and wasn't the only one shocked to see that the Watcher wasn't alone; but he's rather enjoying the old man's apoplectic expression. Angel spares a moment's pity for the Demons that were on observation duty and failed to either notice or inform them that Joyce was back in Sunnydale; a week before she was expected. Spike was less than pleased that their surveillance teams failure and made no secret of it during a loud and raging tirade that shook the windows of the Chase home. The only mitigating factor to his rage is that Joyce was well and migraine-free; Win confident that the malignancy causing her ailment had been corrected. His fury at finding out that the little Witch and her spoiled daughter endless demands to be brought back to Sunnydale forced Joyce's compliance.

He glances over his shoulder. They're all here now; and with the exception of Joyce; who is happily ensconced in conversation with Spike and the others; they're all huddled around a pale and shaking Watcher. The older man has an arm wrapped around Buffy and Willow who are clinging to him nervously and Xander is off to the side slightly separated from them.

Even as he's watching Gunn approaches the young man and greets him with a hearty slap on the back that brings a relieved smile to the boy's face. He's rather surprised to see Gunn lead the now animated young man over to Joyce who wraps an arm around his shoulder and gives him a gentle squeeze.

"We should get started Angel. Phaedra's people are shielding us but the drain to sustain the spell is dangerous if it goes on for too long." Wesley quietly advises him as he turns and calls softly for Spike who answers it immediately. "We should get started Will. We don't want to overburden the Mages; we'll need their skills soon and they have to be ready."

Spike nods his understanding and takes several steps forward and to Angel's shock he bows respectfully to him before climbing the small rise of the hill that's placed them above the crowded field.

Angel watches in stunned amazement as the assembled Demons almost instantly grow silent and draw into neat orderly ranks; utterly unlike the pure chaos they represent; and stand at attention before his Childe; it is a display of deferential respect and no small amount of healthy fear that few Demons can command in this modern age; and his pride knows no bounds.

"I am William; the Bloody, Spike; the Slayer of Slayers, out of Drusilla; the Seer, out of Angelus; the Scourge, out of Darla; the Fair, out of Heinrich Nest; the Master; out of Dorian; the Sculptor, out of Esmeralda; the Flame, out of Decimus; the Gladiator, out of Marcus Aurelius; the Emperor and I am Aurelius!" Spike shouts loud enough to be heard in the back of the assemblage and the Demons surge forward with a single raucous cry, their fists lifted in acknowledgement of a very proud and respected lineage before settling and quieting.

"My fellow Demons I come before you tonight not as an Aurelian not even as a Vampire but as your Brother-In-Arms!" The assembly cheers but quickly quiets as Spike speaks again; so quiet are they that Spike barely needs to raise his voice to be heard.

"We are here in answer to a threat that has touched all of our nations with tragedy. Mothers, Fathers, Sires, Mates, Offspring, Lords, and Rulers, we've all lost our precious blood to the Humans calling themselves the Initiative and we will have blood for blood but we must be smart in the taking of it. Some of us have known hard times and tragedy and already our numbers are far too low but still we offer our fighting arm to this cause boldly but let us revive the Old Ways in this place. I call for an armistice among us. Let our grievances be put aside and let Demon stand with Demon; and those so called; as FAMILY!"

The crowd cheers again, supporting Spike's proclamations even as they're rallied to fighting readiness, carried by the passion and fervour of one of the most respected and feared of their number.

As Spike's hand rises they quiet to silence. "We are called to the Council of War, all hail Angelus Aurelius, the Aurelius of Aurelius!" Spike cries out and Angel is propelled to the top of the rise on their cheers, his heart overflowing with pride as Spike bows to him and gracefully sinks into an observant crouch beside him.

The seemingly submissive gesture shouting to one and all that know their ways that Spike is deferring to him as his Master breaks his heart at the necessity of it even as his pride in his Childe reaches new heights. By rights until the Order ratifies Spike's wishes and makes him truly the Master of their bloodline; it should be he that is showing deference and not Spike. Everything that has been credited to him has been accomplished without him by the hard work of the Order but the charade is a wise decision and if it will protect Spike from becoming any more of a target he has no choice but to the play the part as best that he can.

"I call forth the War Chiefs of the nations!" Angel cries out and he sees one; or in some case two or three; member from every species represented separate from their groups and gather into a line just behind his Order; who have maintained their place of honour at the head of the group. It is a sad commentary that for some of their fellow Demons the departure of their elected Leader leaves a group of a mere handful of members behind. In one sobering example a mere trio is left behind. Angel is surprised to see that the trio is quickly absorbed by a neighbouring group of Demons who greet them with surprising gentleness and offers of emotional support and protection.

As he watches them assemble a movement at his side draws his attention and Angel turns his head to watch Spike walking down to join them. As he approaches Aaron gestures and the Aurelians to the last bow lowly and in an unprecedented show of respect they break rank and reassemble behind the assembled warriors the nations have elected to represent them.

There is a few seconds of furious whispering as the Vampires display a decorum and old world manner that hasn't been seen in centuries and the assemblage can't help but be touched by it and to a last they pull up to their full height to stand proudly. War crests, standards, Clan colours and personal displays in the form of fins, horns, and even wings are flared proudly; as every Clan and nation shows off their pride in pageantry that had its beginning before humans walked the planet.

There is a huge rush of wind that almost knocks them off their feet and awed silence washes over the crowd as eyes stare upwards in awe. The Dragon is huge, it's wing span easily over fifty feet but it's flight is graceful as it lands with sinuous ease, it's huge wings folding against it's spine-lined back as it crouches at the edge of the crowd, looming over all of them. Its body is gleaming metallic silver tipped with cobalt blue and a magnificent mane of rioting snowy white hair marks it as an Elder of its species.

A soft trilling hawk-like cry heralds the arrival of a magnificent tawny golden red Gryphon as it glides to a swooping landing a few feet from the dragon. Seconds later a swoop of snow white wings heralds the arrival of a magnificent pair of Pegasi as the winged horses land with rearing trumpeting cries. As though a signal has been set off the night is suddenly charged with strange and eldritch energies.

The breeze suddenly picks up, rustling the leaves of the forest around them until it almost sounds like the whispering of voices and from the depths and amazing assemblage appears out of the thick greenery. Noble Unicorns are heralded by an explosion of small winged Faeries and the trees themselves part in fluid grace revealing the ancient gnarled forms of the Ents. Beautiful Dryads, Naiads, and Brownies appear from the protection of the forest; as armoured Elven warriors riding powerful Stags, Wolves, and even the occasional Unicorn; escort them as an honour guard. At the head of the procession, looking every inch the powerful and respected Queen that she is, Phaedra in full ceremonial dress leads a procession of her fellow Fae; races that haven't been seen since mankind's rise to dominance. Not a word is spoken as the Demons look on in reverence and awe. Even Demons have their legends and it's not every night one presents itself before you.

So caught up in staring Angel doesn't notice that Wesley has sidled up to stand just behind his right shoulder until he speaks.

"It was Will's idea." Wes informs him in a quiet whisper. "He thought that a bit of over-the-top pageantry wouldn't be amiss nor would it hurt to remind all of us that there is more under Heaven and Earth than just Humans and Demons. Also Phaedra thought that it was time that the Elem revealed themselves to enforce the reminder and to show that they're supporting you. It may make anyone think twice about trying to challenge you." Wes looks out at the awe-struck crowd; not missing the worshipful looks being sent towards Angel; whom they obviously believe is the producer of the miracle before them. He also doesn't miss the isolated fearful and more cautious glances being aimed their way either and nods in satisfaction. "It seems to be working."

Wesley has to stifle a laugh as he notices that Angel's face has the same stupefied and child-like wonder expression that the majority of the assemblage is currently sporting. He nudges Angel surreptiously until he snaps out of his spellbound state and he swiftly and silently moves back to the stand with the others before he's noticed. Even as exalted as his position may be as the Steward of Aurelius; he is still a Human and he has little place at these proceedings and only the most nominal rank.

It is expected that he be seen and not heard and he's cautioned all of the others to remain silent unless spoken to. Experience told him it was a futile gesture so he secretly cast a spell to ensure they followed his well-intentioned suggestion. With a quietly muttered word and a simple gesture he activates the last component of the spell and their voices are locked away. If they try to move beyond where he's standing they won't get very far. Their safety lies in the illusion of their subservience so that is what he'll be sure that they exhibit.

"Return to your camps and await your Leader's return. We're close to our goal, very close, and the last thing that we need is for our presence to be discovered. Each of you must do your part for the common good and hide in the shadows as only we can and wait for the time to strike." Angel waves off the majority of the assemblage and in a remarkably short time only the leaders and the humans remain.

Aaron nods to Angel and at his signal leads the Order from the glade, following the departing Fae into the cover of the forest.

As much as Angel's responsibilities urge him to keep the Order together; he knows that it's wiser to entrust the bulk of them to Aaron's regency at a second camp. It's bad enough that he, his Consort, their Regent, and some of the eldest Minions and Servitors of the Order are as exposed as they are. Traditionally Spike should be entrusted to the protection of the bulk of their Order but he couldn't bear to have him out of his sight for that long. Though Spike is technically responsible for his safety as the Master of the Order, he knows that Spike is in fact his priority; something he's gone to pains to make sure that Aaron understands.

If it comes down to a choice between saving his life or Spike's life; the Elder will do what it takes to get Spike safely away or he'll wish for an easy death if he survives to get his hands on him.

It's no surprise that Phaedra has joined the collection of war chiefs and seems to be enjoying making a real show of snuggling up to Spike. He has to admit that they do make a striking pair despite a rather fairly large difference in height. Given their beauty separately they could look anyone look good so they can only look even better together. What does surprise Angel is the Dragon has remained where it is, towering over all them but the oldest of the venerable trees around them.

Angel tries to ignore its hovering presence as he motions to Wesley, calling him over with the lap top and maps he has folded under his arm.

The former Watcher pauses briefly and alters the spell he cast slightly, anchoring it to Joyce instead and making sure that Giles and the others are kept back behind her and out of trouble. He picks up the neatly folded bundle of maps that Fred and Osanna printed out for them from the Initiative's mainframe and picks up the slender laptop case and slips the strap over his shoulder before joining Angel.

Wes quickly and efficiently sets up the computer and unfurls the maps, Spike helps out by fetching small rocks to weigh down the corners to keep the maps flat. As he bows to Angel and starts to leave he's startled as both of his biceps are caught and held; Spike and Angel reaching out in unison to stop him.

"This is Wesley Wyndam-Price; the Steward of Aurelius and a former Watcher. He has pledged his loyalty to Aurelius and given his blood to try and fight the Initiative and I say that his place is here among us. Much of what we've discovered has come to us because of Humans like Wesley and others who are risking their freedom and their lives to help us. What say you all?" Angel announces formally.

Spike is the first to speak up. "Aurelius and our allies say aye. This man has proven to be one of honour and bled for the cause and we give him our trust and bond that he is true." Spike replies in the stilted form demanded by tradition.

Phaedra is predictably right behind Spike. "The Elem and our allies say aye. I have seen this man's heart and we give him our trust and bond that he is true."

Angel holds his breath knowing that the other Demons aren't going to be as accepting or trusting and sure enough several angry voices explode in unison and raise objections to a human participating in the proceedings.

They're distracted by a bright flash of light and a rush of wind that nearly bowls them off their feet. It takes a few seconds to realize what happened and dazed eyes turn to the small rise of the hill where the Dragon was; and still is; sitting but as its 'slightly' transformed itself. They stare as a woman seemingly floats down the hill towards them. From the length and colour of her snowy white hair; that trails down well past her knees; she could be any age from forty onwards but her face is the perfect and unlined smoothness of a young woman. A large black cloak ripples around her as she walks; flaring like giant wings buffeted by the invisible wind around her before settling in gentle ripples around her the next. Despite his keen eyesight he can't see what is beneath the cloak, only an utter blackness that is deeper than any void he's ever seen; as though the woman was both here in front of them, yet not at the same time.

Angel's mouth drops open as Spike and Wes drop to one knee and bow their heads. He stares in amazement as Phaedra gracefully kneels beside Spike and copies his deferential posture and one by one like dominoes toppling every Demon does the same. He's kneeling as well before he realizes that he was moving and he's stunned into apoplectic shock as he can feel Angelus quaking in fearful respect inside him. He doesn't know who this strange woman is but whoever she may be Angelus is a strangely torn by her appearance and the Demon is both in awe and fearful of the striking female.

As she draws close enough for him to see her eyes his muscles lock rigidly and he feels the insane need to hyperventilate even though he doesn't even need to breathe at all. Her eyes are twin universes of inky blackness but tiny pinpoints of light sparkle from within, moving lazily. He realizes that he's gazing in at the very universe itself and it is gazing back at him.

He can hear the harshly muffled whispers of the Demons around him but he doesn't need for them to explain what this astonishing being before them is. It resonates through the core of his being. This is one of the Ancients, the progenitors of all the non-human races, and one of the originators of all of their species. Here before them is their Eve, the mythical Birth-Mother of their race!

He watches as the Elder floats there before the assemblage, her sweeping gown of space and stars almost but not quite touching the ground and he is driven to rise onto one knee and bow his head in obeisance and respect. He looks at the others from under the cover of his eyelashes and watches as one by one they copy his example until all of them are silently proclaiming their respect and devotion to the Ancient.

"Do not raise your voices in prejudice as many of the Humans do." Her words wash over them in censure and benediction. "Would you be the animals that they would claim you to be? This man recognizes their evil and has the vision to see that it will not be confined only to Demons. This Initiative as they call themselves poses a danger to all so let all who are willing stand in defiance and offer up their arms and wisdom. We are warriors bred but there is a place for the intellect and for sense and mercy as well. We have seen into the heart of this human and it beats true."

One of the bolder Demons speaks up. "What of those humans yonder, Ancient Mother? Are we to take them to our confidence as well?"

The Ancient looks over at the humans watching them in obvious awe and amazement mixed in three cases with sheer terror. A fluttering movement of her dress approximates a wave of an arm and suddenly a mark visibly blazes to life on Joyce's forehead, then on Gunn's, and surprisingly; though more faint than the marks of the other two; a mark begins to appear on Xander's forehead as well.

"Mark and remember for this is the symbol of trust and the bearer of such a mark is held in esteem and given will have our favour. To defile our trust is to earn our ire and we will respond to the slight with alacrity and send forth our agents to right the trespass and gain recompense from the architects of the crime. We name the Aurelians as the arbiters of our will and as our Heralds." The Ancient announces, making it clear to each and every Demon in attendance that those that bear the mark are under the protection of the Ancients by way of the Aurelius Order's powerful Masters; who will address any problems with far more force than some angry words to be sure.

Angel looks over at his Childe and he isn't surprised to see that there is mark there as well and to see that it's glowing so brightly that it's almost blinding. He doesn't need to have a reflection to know that his forehead also carries the mark or look at Wesley and Phaedra to know that it will be there as well. The ritual of the 'marking' fills his mind and he knows that this is the result and how he will show who carries his trust and belief; they are his family. He grimaces faintly as he acknowledges that there must be something worth trusting in Harris if the embodiment of wisdom has decreed it and marked him. He resolves himself to trying to overcome their past differences and getting to know the young man.

When he turns to look at the Ancient he's startled to see that she is gone and the Dragon as well.

"She cannot hold herself here for very long. If she tarried too long she couldn't shield her presence from the Powers and they would come. All the Ancients were thought long departed or held in places of deepest power in eternal confinement." Wesley hisses in a whisper so low that his words won't carry to the Demons closest to them but remain for his ears alone. "They don't know that she alone remains free so she left to preserve the secret."

Angel nods his understanding and looks over his shoulder at Wes and nods. He'll be asking them about her later as he can tell that Spike, Phaedra, and Wes were curiously unsurprised to see her. Though they showed the same deference as the others to her presence he could also see that they had rather shocking looks of affection on their faces as well. He knows that they're familiar with that Ancient whoever she may actually be and he has a feeling that finding out about her is something that he needs to do. Angel snaps his fingers and motions to the top of the smaller hill where Joyce and the others are standing and Wes nods and moves forward.

Wes gestures and murmurs an incantation keeping his mind focused on a visual of what he wants the spell's form to shift to. A brief flare of bright emerald green light and he waves to Gunn, Joyce; and after a second's hesitation; Xander to join them. They hurry down the incline of the hill and he can't stifle a laugh as Giles, Buffy, and Willow try to follow them only to find that Wesley's spell is preventing them from doing so as they bounce off the invisible walls that have shifted but are still there confining them.

"We have a lot to do and not much time to do it." Angel announces as he turns his back on the comical image of the silently ranting trio. They are yelling, beating on, and fruitlessly casting spells at the unseen cage around them to try and get through the barrier.

The Demons and his human allies gather closer to hear his proposed plans and offer their advice and the wisdom of their diverse experience. It doesn't take very long for their confidence level and trust to firm up and shortly after that a plan is meticulously outlined and agreed upon. Wesley and Joyce showing an astonishing degree of organization as each commander present receives a very detailed and thorough list of their contingent's responsibilities in the battle to come broken down to the minute so that their movements will be coordinated with the others.

Phaedra takes the list for the Aristae as their presence in person would place even the strongest among them in danger from their molten natures. She will see to it that they understand and more importantly adhere to the plans and their deadly energies will remain safely harnessed and leashed under their control. As a Nature Elemental, and a Queen besides, their ancient code will demand that they obey her lest they lose the good-will of the planet itself and she knows that they will follow her directions faithfully out of fear if not good judgement.

Angel stands, dismissing the assembled commanders with a polite bow of respect that they return before departing. "Keep the shield up until they're all well on their way. They're going to be as mad as a nest of wasps someone's been poking with a stick when you let them out." He quietly advises Wes who nods but looks curiously unafraid of the confrontation.

One by one they draw together and watch as the last of the commanders disappears into the distance. Only a trio of the Demons has defied the dismissal to remain behind and it is clear that they have no intentions of leaving so easily.

"I feel like I should be saying something witty and smart right now." Joyce says with a chuckle and a self-depreciating shrug of her shoulder.

"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more: it is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing."

From Macbeth (V, v, 19)

Spike quotes with a grin and a chuckle as Joyce chuckles aiming a playful slap at his shoulder as he teases her mercilessly and they all laugh as he acts hurt and offended that no one liked his quote.

"There will be no 'dusty deaths' for us my Lad." Angel announces with finality and glancing at the others he adds. "Or deaths of any other kind either."

"Why did you send that Samantha lady away with the others?" Xander asks, realizing that she quietly left with the other Vampires Spike introduced to them earlier as members of the Aurelius Order. "And why did Giles and the girls have to stay on the hill?"

"Sam was trained to kill Demons and they tortured her until it became instinctual that she does so. She can override the training in some cases like with Angel, Spike, and their Order but among so many; it's like trying to hold back flood waters with a pile of toothpicks." Wesley informs him quietly. "It's best that she remain isolated for the most part as much as possible from any Demon that she's unfamiliar with or hasn't noted as having 'protected' status."

"Protected status; what do you mean?" Xander asks curiously.

"Basically that's any Demon that Spike likes and considers a friend." Wes reveals with a snickering chuckle that turns into a full-blown laugh as Spike playfully kicks his shin.

"You should ask the questions that you really want the answer to Mate." Spike advises with a sniff of disdain for the chortling Wesley, ignoring the faint heat of a blush that he knows is staining his cheeks. "You don't want to know why your friends had to stay up on the hill; you want to know why you didn't have to stay there too."

Xander coughs and clears his throat and nods self-consciously.

"You saw the marks." Spike taps his forehead between his eyes. "You can see them even now." He points out and Xander's nod proves him to be right. "That symbol is visible only to certain beings that have been blessed for all intents and purposes by a Higher Power."

"The Ancients have existed since before time itself though most believe that they are slumbering, trapped, departed, or extinct. They're wrong of course but not by far. What you saw is a vision that few can claim to have seen even among the oldest of Demons, seeing one such as she is the rarest of occasions. She is the last of the race of beings that existed before man or demon walked and the only one to remain behind to guide us. One of the Ancients that gave birth to all that we know; all that we are; and that laid the foundations for all that we can become and you saw her. I would mark this day in your memory as it isn't likely to happen again within your lifetime." Wesley offers.

"So you're saying that was GOD?" Xander squeaks out in a choked voice.

"She wouldn't call herself that so I'm not about to." Wesley states unequivocally. "She is what she is and I'm not about to try and figure that out much less put a name to her when she has one that suits her well enough. She is as she is and by whatever name she is addressed that does not change. Coronya is Coronya." He replies with a shrug.

Angel sucks in an unnecessary breath sharply as he knows that he's heard that name before and it suddenly clicks in his head as to where and when. Coronya is the architect of his Childe's fate and because of him, of his own as well. He plumbs his mind for what little he was able to find on the Elder in Wesley's library at the manor.

"She can see into people's hearts." Angel offers biting back a growl as Xander looks ill and unconsciously lifts his hand to cover his heart. "It's not literally seeing your heart Boy!" He snaps and then makes a conscious effort not to yell at Xander for being so damned literal. "She can look at someone and see them, really see who they are inside, and know them. You stood in judgement and for some reason she saw something in you and gave you that mark."

"It's a sign, a symbol that those of us that also bear it or are sensitive to it can see. It is a mark of honour and trust. You're here because she looked into your being and found you worthy. I don't know why since you're one of the biggest bigots I've ever met. You can't even treat your ex-Demon girlfriend with the same respect that you throw away on your friends because of who she used to be." Spike explains with brutal honesty. "Her wisdom is greater than ours so we'll trust her to trust you not to betray our confidence and abuse the chance that she's given to you."

Xander's hand flies from its protective place over his heart and up to his forehead. "But...." He looks at his friends still angrily shouting; though he can't actually hear them; and beating ineffectually on the wall that he can't see. "I know that I've been horrible to Anya and unfair. I'm trying not to be that way anymore...."

"Maybe that's what Coronya saw in you then; that you're trying to overcome your prejudices. She's big on offering people the chance to redeem their poor choices." Spike offers.

Xander can't take his eyes off his trio of friends, his very visibly unmarked friends.

"That's right." Angel says; following the line of Xander's eyes to his friends and says not unkindly but with brutal honesty. "She looked inside them too but they were found wanting so she denied them her favour."

Joyce sighs and wraps an arm around the stricken boy's shoulders and pulls him close to her side with a comforting squeeze. "It doesn't mean they're bad Xander. It just means that they may be a little...." She trails off, not sure how to phrase what she wants to say.

"Lost, they may be a little lost." Spike offers the missing word she was looking for and she sends a thankful smile his way.

"Yes, lost is the word I was looking for." Joyce agrees. "You saw what happened when I went to see my friends to find out what was wrong with me. As much as I love Buffy, I'll be the first to admit that my daughter can be the most stubborn and blind girl ever born. She sees what she wants to see and never really stops to ask the questions that she should. I blame Giles and those damn Watchers for that." She growls angrily. "They've taught her to be narrow-minded, judgemental, and intolerant of difference. It doesn't matter if a Demon has never hurt anyone or not, just the fact that they're Demons is enough for her to want to hurt them."

Joyce looks over at Rupert Giles and for one moment it's on the tip of her tongue to invoke her friendship with Spike and have him deal with the man. She knows that Spike's unquestioning loyalty and trust in her is so absolute that he'd do it without demanding an explanation but it's that same trust that stills the words unspoken. As much as she hates the man and his cohorts for what they've done to Buffy she won't take advantage of her relationship with Spike to strike out at him no matter how much the Watchers deserve to hurt.

"She treated everyone like an enemy to be fought and she couldn't have been any ruder to everyone. Willow was constantly bothering everyone to teach her the Elem's magic even though they told her that they wouldn't; that she couldn't learn it. She didn't accept that and kept trying to sneak looks at their Grimoire collections until they finally had to use their magic to lock it beyond her reach. You were the only one to see the trip as something magical to be enjoyed and treated it like the gift that it was. I love all of you as much as if you were my own children like Buffy but you were the only one that I was proud to claim on that trip; I can tell you that much." Joyce admits sadly. "They're lost Xander and maybe we can be the examples that will show them the way back."

"I want to try but I don't think that I'm a very good role model." Xander confesses. "I'm not any better than they are; look what I did to Anya without realizing it."

"Someone very wise said something to me once. You can make a mistake but there isn't anything that isn't redeemable if you have the good intentions to try and make it right." Angel paraphrases from Coronya's wise counsel.

"Everyone makes mistakes but not everyone is willing to admit to them and try to learn from them. Everyone makes mistakes Mate but it takes a wise man not to repeat it. You know what you did was wrong. Anya called and told me that you visited her and Tara and admitted that and apologized to both of them for what you'd done; or in Tara's case didn't do by not trying to find her." Spike reveals. "I'm not sure Anya is going to forget what you did but I think she's on the way to forgiving you for it. Important thing is you tried to make it right; you tried." He points out.

"My people found you quite charming and welcoming Joyce on a visit is always pleasant." Phaedra offers with a pleased smile. Her expression is less than sunny as she looks up the hill towards the others. "Your companions' behaviour however left something to be desired and I am loathed to allow them to venture to our home again."

Xander sighs but there isn't anything he can say in defence of Buffy and Willow as they really did behave badly and he wasn't happy with what they had done either. They ended up virtual prisoners in the large suite they were given; though as prisons go it was extremely nice. He felt compelled to stay with them instead of accepting the numerous offers to have fun and tour the wonderful sights around them and he couldn't help but resent them a little for that.

"Something isn't right with the old Watcher and the Witch." Spike announces into the silence startling Xander out of his fugue state.

He's about to defend his friends when he's stopped by the nods of everyone else and the chorus of agreeing statements. Has he missed something that all of the rest of them have obviously picked up on?

"What's wrong with them? Are they sick like Joyce was?" Xander asks, frightened for his old friend and surrogate Father figure.

"Can't rightly say what's wrong Pup but something is and it's no sickness of the body. There's a darkness in them both, the Slayer too but we know what's wrong with her." Spike answers.

"You're wrong, there's no way that they're going bad!" Xander denies automatically.

"I didn't say 'bad'; I said dark." Spike snaps in a growl.

"Who knows darkness better than we do?" Angel points out. "We can sense it."

Phaedra looks at them again, her head tilting faintly as she considers them. "I sense... atrophy?" Her brow furrows. "It is faint so it is recent but there all the same." Her eyes narrow in concern. "And the decay in their auras is accelerating."

"Could it be something Riley and his boys have done?" Xander asks in horror.

"Physical ailments rarely manifest in an aura atrophying; that means it's shrinking, like it's being consumed by something." Phaedra explains helpfully. "Auras change according to circumstances, colours vary and change second to second but even in someone terminally ill the aura is still there like it always was. It may just manifest signs of the sickness in unhealthy colours but it's not consumed by it. This is something else...." Phaedra trails off and her eyes narrow as she deepens her scan of the trio, only to fly open in shock. "I swear if I didn't know better; I'd say that they were somehow turning into Demons but I don't sense actual Demons in them."

Wes snaps his fingers. "That's it!" He announces, feeling the weight of all their stares. "I can 'hear', or sense may be a better word, the magic they've been casting trying to get passed the barrier and it's been bothering me for a while now but I couldn't put my finger on why...." He trails off and sighs. "It's magic, dark magic; they're casting Chaos spells." He reveals.

"I think it began with the Watcher and somehow spread to the Red-haired Sorceress. His aura is much more degraded than hers and his does show the scars of something attacking his aura in the past. I can't quite see the reason for it with all the damage that's been and is still progressively being done." Phaedra offers; her eyes on the trio once again. "It could have been a variation of what is happening with the Slayer, her aura shows some sign of a similar pattern though the effects aren't pronounced yet."

"It's Riley! I knew it!" Xander shouts. "He did something to Giles like he did to Buffy and now it's gotten Willow too!"

"It is possible that may have been how it begun...." Phaedra is compelled to agree. "But the Red Sorceress doesn't have the same pattern in her aura, not even vaguely close to it. The darkness in her was always there I think but something is causing it to grow and the colours in her aura reflect that. It's all dark sickly shades and crackling sparks. That's curious." She notes, making them all crazy as she doesn't elaborate right away.

"What, what is curious?" Xander shouts unable to take the suspense.

"The Watcher and the Witch have several shades in their aura that are exactly the same shade and pattern in the same places." Phaedra reveals, her expression turning to disgust as she deliberately turns her back on the three; who have finally given up getting passed the shield.

"What is it; what does that mean?" Xander's mouth drops open at the torrent of swear words and very vocal disgust as Wesley, Angel, and Spike all recoil and look ill to their stomachs.

"That kind of 'marking' only occurs between lovers and ones that have been together for some time." Spike answers. "It's like spending so much time with your girlfriend that you can smell her perfume on your skin, something that happens enough that they're ground in deep only it's the aura. But the scent thing is true too."

"You smell like Anya." Angel offers to make a point. "She smells a little like you too. Spike still carries traces of Drusilla's scent and mine."

"That's just the way that it is between partners when you've been together long enough. Our sense of smell is one of our most developed senses and that's one reason why. Scents can tell us a lot more than you think." Spike confirms. "Demons know their clan not so much by sight but by their scent. Family always shares a co-mingled scent particular to them."

"Okay we get it but don't any of you start sniffing me places!" Gunn denies vehemently, crossing his arms and trying to look intimidating and it startles a laugh out of all of them but Xander.

"Wills has been spending so much time with Giles but I didn't think anything about it." He whispers haltingly. "How long does it take that aura thing to happen? How long has that Bastard been taking advantage of Willow?"

"That 'bleeding' occurs in consensual joinings young man. Whatever has or is happening between them she was and is a willing participant in it." Phaedra steps in to argue. "I'm not saying that he as the adult isn't more culpable but she was willing. There was no rape."

"She's a baby!" Joyce cries looking horrified. "Oh God; Buffy; has he done that to my baby girl?!"

Phaedra hurriedly comforts her. "I see no signs in her aura! He hasn't abused her."

"Coercion is as much rape as the physical act when the girl is too young to have the sense to know when a blighter is taking advantage of her!" Spike growls. "He's the so-called adult, he should have known better and kept his damn willie zipped up!"

Wesley moves over to Spike and cups his shoulders in a one armed hug and comforts his friend even as he wants to release him and set him on Giles. "We should inform the proper authorities. I believe there is some sort of law against a grown man having... relations... in this case? Miss Rosenberg is I believe still a minor?"

"Statue rape, that's what they call it right?" Xander whimpers breathing deeply and trying to hold off the overwhelming need to panic. No panic and then throw up. For four days.

Wesley practically has to hold Spike up as he reels with laughter only it proves infectious and soon Angel is giving a sigh of long-suffering and holding both of the men up.

"I think you meant to say 'statutory rape'." Angel says dryly and even Joyce is hard pressed not to laugh at Xander's adorable albeit utter incomprehensibility at times.

"Well whatever you call it that's what it is and we're going to do it; turn him in?" Xander snaps angrily; embarrassed at having been such a ninny in front of people he was hoping would be at least a little impressed with him unlike his friends of late.

Wesley recovers his self-control and pulls away from Angel with a thankful pat on the shoulder and freeing the larger Vampire to pull his childe closer. "I can't see how we can do anything less in good conscience. We can't stand around and do nothing now that we know."

"But if it's something that Riley and the Initiative caused shouldn't we try to help them instead of turning them in?" Xander asks hopefully. "If we turn Giles in, they'll... I dunno... deport him or something won't they and if Willow did go along with him willingly and admits that what happens to her?"

Xander's words sober Spike and he gathers his legs under him as his laughter fades but he doesn't move away from Angel; not that he could as tightly as the mountain of flesh is holding him.

"Have you heard that old saying about leading a horse to water but not being able to make it drink?" Spike asks and Xander nods. "That's how evil gets its claws into you. It offers you everything that you want but you still have to take it in some fashion; accept it into yourself. Things like morality don't matter anymore. You stop asking yourself if you should do things or if it's right because there isn't anything that you can't do if you want it. Want, take, have; it's all that Demons know or understand; though some are better at denying their natural instincts and manage to be almost civilized about things. If Riley or the Initiative did start the process the Watcher could have stopped it by simply not starting whatever it is he's got going with Red."

"Demons know what right and wrong is; they just don't care and do whatever they want." Gunn states, feeling the need to say something to help someone that may become a good friend. "But Snarky Vamp is right that old codger had to know that what he was doing with that little girl of yours is wrong but he went ahead anyway. If she agreed or not doesn't matter she's a kid and doesn't have the age and experience to make a smart choice about this."

"I agree and speaking as a Mother for Mothers, I can't pretend that I don't know about this and I'd sure as hell expect someone to protect Buffy if she was in Willow's position. I vote that we have to tell." Joyce states sadly, looking over her shoulder at Spike.

"We have to tell someone even if it's just the girl's parents." Spike agrees with a nod.

"They won't care. They're hardly even home anymore. Willow spends eleven months out of the year home alone and has since she was twelve." Xander says angrily, knowing that it's probably one of the reasons Willow is so starved for attention. "They come home every once in a while, wash some clothes, pay some bills, make sure that Willow gets her groceries delivered but then they pack up and they're off again. They're horrible parents!" He snarls and then winces because as horrible as Willow's parents may be; they're better than the ones he was cursed with.

"Then we'll have to tell the authorities." Angel decides. "Let them handle it."

"I'd hate to be the bearer of bad tidings...." Wes says gruffly, trailing off to clear his throat. "If we turn Giles in now, there's no way it's not going to set off a hornet's nest of activity in this town and it'll close up tighter than a clam. Any strangers are going to stick out like beacons and that isn't good for us. It will turn the Initiative's attention to them as well and they may try to use it to their advantage to try and force Mister Giles to give them permanent access to Miss Summers. That won't be a good thing and it may have unforeseen ramifications that we can't control." He's forced to point out. "I don't see how we can move on this now without outing ourselves and exposing all of our activities to the Initiative. Everything will be for naught."

"Seems to me that what we need to do is keep the old guy and the girl from being together right?" Gunn asks. "Then after we take down these twisted soldier boys, we turn him in?"

"That would seem to be our best option at this point." Wes agrees and looks at Joyce. "Do you think that you can manage to keep the girls with you?" He asks quietly.

"Joyce can do it no problem." Spike announces confidently and taking strength from his belief she nods proudly. "Just put on a show for them Pet. Pretend you're not one hundred percent yet and still feel a little poorly and get them to play Mother Hen for you. If the girl and the Watcher have managed to hide their relationship for this long they must be acting carefully. Willow would be expected to help you and anything else would look suspicious and they'll avoid that if they can so she won't make too much of a fuss about it."

"That'll do Lad." Angel says approvingly. "It's the best that we can do for now and not have the Initiative get wind of something wrong and increasing their patrols and surveillance." Angel looks at Phaedra. "Speaking of surveillance, how are we on that end?"

"The Shape-shifters have done admirably. The soldiers they have watching them don't know that they aren't watching who they think that they are. No patrols have been within a mile of this place; the Demons we have playing decoy have been keeping them distracted." Phaedra announces, having received regular progress 'reports' from the network of helpful plants and wildlife around them that have been enlisted as a communication network. "We're clear."

"At least something is going as we expected tonight." Angel comments in a sigh. "Do you think that the Initiative had something to do with what's happened to Giles and Willow?" He asks.

"I wouldn't put it past the wankers." Spike mumbles. "They may have done something to push the Watcher over the edge this time but it's not like he hasn't done this before." Spike's eyes flash dangerously.

"What do you mean?!" Xander and Joyce exclaim in tandem.

"Your Watcher pal there has a not so savoury reputation in some quarters for more than one reason. It wasn't as bad as what he's doing now but back when he was younger he seduced a young Watcher-in-training at the Academy those stuffed shirts run. He was twenty-something and the boy was a teenager. Not as big a leap in this day and age for a romance but he still took advantage of someone younger. I found out about it when one of Dru's get turned him." He glances at Wes as he embellishes the truth with a small white lie to protect the secret his friend has carried all these years. "They may have caused some sort of a breakdown that started it but the potential was already in the wanker to begin with, this just brought it to the surface."

"I guess it's not as bad, I had a crush on a Teacher once... wait the boy was a teenager?!" Xander exclaims.

"You can't possibly live in this town and still be that naïve." Spike comments, shaking his head in amazement. "The Watcher likes his treats in more than one flavour."

"Wow... okay so Giles is... not that there's anything wrong with it mind you! I'm sure that he's care... careful with the condoms and the... stuff... yeah I'm going to shut up and pretend that I never heard anything about Giles and sex." Xander stutters in verbal chaos and does his personal version of the plugged up ears and loud humming to try and rewind the last few minutes. Everyone knows that those childhood mantras always work in the presence of anything uncomfortable.

Spike shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Right here's what we're going to do. They're not going to wonder why Gunn got to come down here since he's one of Angel's crew. Joyce you came down here because Buffy is still a concern. They'll be watching her again now that she's back instead of safely out of town until this is over. We'll place a couple of the Shape-shifters with you, if you can call up your regular employees and arrange for them to take a few days off?"

Joyce nods after a few seconds of thought. "I can send them back to finish the work that I didn't have time to do. Someone will have to arrange for the purchases that I bought to be transported safely and they can do that and finish up my purchasing rounds." She confirms.

"Excellent, the Shifters can easily take their place and a couple more can masquerade as some temporary help in the gallery. We'll make sure that a large delivery is made in the next day or two so it won't look unusual for them to be with you for some strange hours. The Initiative will just assume that it's taking all of you to handle processing the shipment and won't think twice." Spike announces happily before turning his keen mind to Xander, an obscure fact surfacing from his memory of something that he overheard. "You were born and bred here right Shags?"

"Huh? Shags; what.... Huh?" Xander sputters and then nods. "I had the singular joy of growing up here yes."

"You're still growing up here Harris." Spike replies with a smirk but continues on anyway. "Right we needed someone that knows the lay of the land here to give us a bit of an insider's leg up. You're not lying since you did actually point out several things that helped us with the plan. So if they ask why you just tell them that Angel or I remembered you're native here and know the place better than anyone else. We wanted to ask you some questions so we let you out too."

"Oh okay that will work." Xander says a little surprised that Spike would even bother to come up with a story that will keep his friends off his back and wonders silently why he's bothering to be sort of nice to him.

"Okay everyone got the stories straight?" Spike asks, waiting for a nod from everyone. "Good on you then. Joyce when they get down here make up some excuse to get out of here and take the girls and the boy here with you. Do your best to keep them and the Watcher apart. Okay Wes let the wankers out."

A quick gesture and incantation and they're free, boiling down the hill in raging tempers only to meet cooler and calmer heads. Joyce is every inch the Mother as she bundles the three youngsters up and herds them inexorably in the distance where she parked her SUV with claims of being fatigued and chilled. It's a masterful performance and soon she's being led like a Queen Bee surrounded by workers buzzing around her in concern for her health.

"What is the meaning of this? How dare you confine us in such a crass manner; as though we were rats in a cage?" Giles shouts heatedly.

"Perhaps you would have preferred to be mistaken as hors d'oeuvres?" Wes counters smoothly with chilly logic. "Gunn belongs to Angel and every Demon here knows that Joyce is under Spike's protection, they were safe as houses. We needed the boy; he did grow up here. The last thing we needed is more people to have to protect if things went south or your Slayer took it into her head to do something stupid like attack anyone."

"I can control my Slayer. I had her in hand." Giles argues in a cold tone, his eyes glinting dangerously.

Angel tightens his arm around Spike, pulling him closer and unconsciously angling his body to place his last remaining Childe safely out of harm's way. It goes against every instinct that he has as a Sire to allow the mentally unstable and obviously dangerous Watcher within striking distance of Spike. It doesn't matter that Spike can take care of himself as well as he could; if not better; but the reality that they're all that's left of their family has awakened his old protective instincts.

"Yes we saw how well adjusted she is when she tried to kill Sammy Gal." Gunn snorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That wasn't her fault, she's under the influence!" Giles barks back.

"No it was your fault for not having trained her better." Wes snaps back. "You've taught her to hate anything that isn't human to the point that she can barely function. Have you told her that the Council employs Demons? Hell that the Slayers are themselves a form of hybrid Demon?" He growls angrily. "No, of course you didn't because then she'd have to think before she acted and that's not her strong point is it Giles Old Boy? She'd question you and who and what she is and she might hesitate to kill on command as you've trained her to do.

"Tell me Mister Giles did you lie to her? Did you tell her that the Crucimentium was a rite of passage for Slayers over a certain age like all the Watchers before you have told their Slayers?" Spike's lip curls in disgust as he inadvertently reveals just how comprehensive his knowledge of not only Slayers but their Watchers really is.

"You and I know that the Crucimentium isn't meant to test her abilities but her loyalty to you. The lie worked as well as it always has when you told her you'd been fired. It only drew her closer to you when I arrived as I was expected to, the interloping Watcher come to take over for her oh so loyal and loving Watcher. She hated me from the beginning, just as she was meant to, and you had more control over her actions than ever because she thought that she could trust you.

"You were given a Slayer and you've made her into an indiscriminate killer; congratulations. I may have killed three Slayers but you've spent generations screwing with what little grey matter the chits have and have done a better job destroying them than I ever could at my worst. Do they know why Slayers are so short-lived is by design of the Council?" Spike asks, enjoying the opportunity to needle Giles. "A Slayer that dies young is one that doesn't have time to grow up and ask any of those ugly questions that you don't want to answer."

Giles darts forward before anyone realizes what he's planning and swings a fist violently at Spike's chin, pouring all of his rage and embarrassment into the punch. It takes him several seconds to realize that the fist never connects as Spike calmly sidesteps him and kicks the back of his knee causing him to stumble and fall. His eyes are locked on the stars that he can barely see through the rain-laden clouds and the sharp pressure on his throat makes him think that it would be a good idea to stay very still.

His view is obscured by a familiar face leaning over him and Giles realizes that whoever has their foot across his throat, it's not Spike as the blond regards him coolly. A hint of movement and Angel is kneeling behind his Childe and aiming a scowl at him and he's surprised since he'd assumed it was Angel holding him down.

"You're slowing down old man." Spike notes with an amused smirk. "It's no wonder why your Council of Wankers offered Wes the job as head Watcher in the field. You're off your game ole boy and maybe it's time to put you out to pasture after all." His words are calculating and cruel and more painful than any punch he could have thrown.

He tries to look like he's not fazed by what Spike has said but it's obvious that he's failed miserably as the rotten Bastard starts to chuckle knowingly.

"Oh this is rich! They didn't tell the old Bull that they were looking for a new stud for his patch of ground eh?" Spike snickers and Angel grins superiorly and it's the last straw.

"You're lying; they're not going to replace me and even if they did Buffy wouldn't let them...." He argues and stutters to silence as laughter explodes over him in waves.

"You're placing your fate in the hands of a little girl that you've spent years indoctrinating into your Watcher dogma? They can manipulate her as easily as you have." Spike points out. "It doesn't matter though really since you know that your Slayer's days are numbered. As soon as your precious Council finds their new Slayer, how long will it be before they force yours to step down? If it took an hour I'd be surprised. Without her, they'll have no need for you."

"That's nonsense! My skills would be needed for the new Slayer...." Giles argues.

"You mean the Slayer that they have everyone but you looking for? I may be a little rusty in Council procedures but it is still customary for the Watcher that's assigned to the chit to be the one to approach her first?" Spike retorts with a smug expression. "That's a bit hard to do if you're stuck in this hole with a Slayer they plan to retire as soon as they have their next victim? Face it 'Bag O'Bones' they're putting you out to pasture just like your Slayer." Spike rises from his crouch, Angel mirroring him, and he waves his hand in an offhand and cavalier manner and the pressure that's been keeping Giles pinned is suddenly released.

A quick roll and he regains his feet and looks angrily at the only other person that could have been holding him down but Wes shrugs off the black look without concern.

Angel hasn't made any move to back away from him, showing his lack of concern for any threat he may pose but his arm is solidly wrapped around Spike's shoulders, keeping his Childe securely tucked against the shelter of his body. As for the blond he's turned his head to speak quietly with Wesley; who has silently slipped over to stand next to the entwined pair of Vampires and Giles bites back a growl of sheer annoyance.

At a subtle gesture from Angel Phaedra moves forward elegantly. "Our business for this evening is concluded and I for one can think of far more pleasant pursuits than watching this pointless display." She announces with a bored tone that breaks the tension admirably enough.

"Words of wisdom but welcome nonetheless." Angel announces gladly, waving at the delegation of Demons. "You may return to your encampments but my orders remain in effect. Showing our numbers now will only force the Initiative to move before we're ready or spook them enough to move their operation altogether and we'll have to start over. Is that understood?"

A tall and powerfully built Demon with dusky rose coloured skin and hair several shades darker bows from the waist respectfully. The other Demons follow its example with varying degrees of alacrity; clearing signifying that the Demon is one they're willing to follow the example of. "It is understood Master Angelus but we have risked much to bring our kith and kin here."

One of its four deceptively slender hand-tipped arms unfolds and gestures towards Giles. "This one is Watcher-kind and we must insist on certain safeguards. It has always been in them to kill indiscriminately any Demon regardless of whether they pose a threat to Humans or not. My people are Warrior-bred but we do not war with children; the Humans are safe from us as are many of the nations that have trusted the Aurelius by coming here. What assurances of safety do any of us have in a place controlled by the tyranny of the Council and their trained killers?"

Giles looks shocked and horrified to be personified or rather vilified to such a degree and by someone, something, he's believed his whole life that he as a human is superior to. "We are hardly tyrants and the Slayers have a holy calling...." He starts to argue but he finds his voice suddenly stolen by an intricate fluttering of Phaedra's hand and a softly intoned phrase.

"This child speaks out of turn as the young are wont to do. Aurelius extends an apology on his behalf Emmanuel. The Gavriel are a noble race deserving of respect and honour but the Humans have lamentably corrupted their history to the point that they have forgotten what once they knew. If we are to once more make our presence known among them, we must be tolerant and teach them as parents do." Phaedra bows formally in an ancient display of apology. Her palms are pressed tightly together with her thumbs resting lightly on her forehead and opening in a flourish at the lowest ebb of the bow to display her open palms. She rises smoothly after a three second pause and resumes her full height.

"Your manner is as lovely as ever Phaedra of the Elem and your words have wisdom and carry great weight throughout all of the People. The Aurelians are most fortunate in securing your counsel and the apology is accepted graciously but that does not solve the problem posed by this Human and the animals they command."

"The Aurelians have secured my loyalties Emmanuel as well as those of my people and through me of the Elem nation in its entirety. I am...." Phaedra starts to say.

"The most respected and venerated Lady of the Court of Aurelius." Angel smoothly interjects, taking the opportunity to publicly proclaim Phaedra as not only an ally of the Order but as part of it as well. A very high ranking member no less in another highly unusual change to the typical vampiric Order's hierarchy; that usually favours only their own kind.

"Aurelius is as changed as I have heard." Emmanuel announces looking impressed and more than a little surprised. "It is a remarkable achievement and an advance for your kind Master Angelus. It has been most gratifying to see the return of manners of the Old Ways but without the prejudice and mistrust that was bred rampant in the past." The regal Demon glances around at the assemblage and inclines his head politely. "Yes, it is most impressive." He says quietly; mostly to himself and a considering look gleams in his eyes.

"The High Mother has wished to ask for an audience with the Aurelius and the Elem...." He proposes after several seconds of thoughtful silence.

"It will of course be granted at the earliest mutual convenience after this unpleasantness is dealt with. The Lithra Orchids are in full bloom this season and they were always a favourite of Magda's if memory serves and a fitting Host-gift for your Lady. We shall send a messenger with the offering and the formal invitation upon resolution of our dealings in this foul place." Phaedra promises; having seen Angel's nod of agreement and approval to speak on behalf of the Order as well as her own people. She is surprised but touched by the status he has afforded her in the Order; she is likened to a Noble in most respects as he's given her the title usually given to the eldest female Master of the Order.

"The High Mother will be most pleased with your gift offering." Emmanuel assures them but his eyes are sombre and frighteningly resolute as he looks at Giles; who hasn't ceased trying to speak even though Phaedra's magic prevents him from doing so most effectively. "Would it not be prudent to cull this one from his kith now before he betrays us to his killer as his kind always does?" He suggests with clinical detachment.

"Watchers are more trouble then they're worth usually. They're like carrion flies, kill one and the others will swarm to feast on its dead body and breed others." One of the other Demons mutters in heavily accented English. After all it's hardly useful to insult someone if they can't understand that they've been insulted in the first place.

"They are a most inefficient species in everything but their capacity for breeding and to the degree to which they can corrupt themselves with no help from anyone else." Emmanuel agrees with obvious disdain for humanity as a whole. "They hold this planet as their own only by the sheer inundation of their smothering number and through no knowledge or innate ability of their own. They're little more than thieves that have stolen every advance that their kind can claim from one of 'ours' and passed it off as their own. They have used us to further their lives and they hunt and kill us for it. WE have been here longer than your tadpole species but you have infected almost every square inch of the inhabitable portions of this planet like a disease. You take everything and you give nothing back but destruction and grief." The noble Demon laments openly as several others reply with keening cries of support and sadness.

"The Gavriel were the Guardians of great Library at Alexandria and their sister-species the Ryegel were the foremost scholars of the ancient world and true pacifists. They would not harm another living soul even at the cost of their life but others saw that as a weakness to be exploited so the Gavriel became their protectors. Their races became so close that in time they became tied to one another. While they could still produce the occasional rare pure-breed over time it became more common for a Gavriel and a Ryegel to mate; which they did for life; to produce offspring of both species. It was a true symbiosis of the type rarely seen." Wesley explains.

"As other Libraries were built, the two species expanded their number and continued their symbiotic relationship peacefully for the most and it was that which saved the few who would survive the betrayal. When came the night that the Humans swarmed the city's streets like flies on the dead and set fire to the Library and all the wonders that it held were almost lost but with it most of the Gavriel and Ryegel perished. They have their reasons for hating humanity and the Watchers in particular as it was one of your kin, a Watcher; that led the Humans charge on the Library." Phaedra supplies with obvious reluctance to having to explain anything to Giles.

"They didn't save themselves." Spike solemnly imparts. "Over a thousand of them died to hold back the hordes that your cursed forefather unleashed in the attempt to steal the knowledge the library held for yourselves. They died while the majority of the Ryegel; their Mates, Sons, Daughters, and friends used the last of their strength to save what they could even as they burned to death in the fires started by greedy Humans."

Angel steps in smoothly. "In the end nearly all of the Ryegel were killed and the few that remain have never dared to show themselves amongst Humans again. Less than a hundred of them remain, heavily guarded by the scant few hundreds of Gavriel that escaped your treachery and in turn by Clans of other Demons that recognize the importance of what they do."

"They're the Guardians of knowledge, benign spirits when a scholar finds their way to their hidden Libraries and wishes to study in peace. Those who would try to take from them are met with a certain death for knowledge belongs to us all freely and it is too important for any one species or Nation to possess." Wes adds, displaying once again his superior knowledge on Demon affairs that have long been lost to other Human historians and recordings.

"It was the first agreement ratified when the Demon Congress was first convened and it is one of the rare few that has never been broken. The Gavriel and Ryegel are neutrals and as such every Demon, of every shape, creed, ethic, or disposition would protect one where they can. That the Gavriel have sent over a dozen of their finest here when their numbers are already so low should tell you how important this is even if your eyes have failed you." Angel provides that revelation.

"Could the Human be allowed to speak Fair Lady? I would hear his words." Emmanuel politely requests and amidst the apprehensive exchange of resigned expressions between Angel, Spike, Wes, and Phaedra, she sets to remove the spell.

"You can't hold us accountable for what some fool did centuries before I or any other living Watcher were born. We had nothing to do with what our Ancestors did before us and they must have felt it justified if they took such rash action...." Giles denies as Phaedra's spell releases its hold on him but it is swiftly locked once more in place as she flushes in anger.

Emmanuel looks somewhat disappointed though not overly surprised by the outcome. "As I suspected; they have learned little and overcome nothing of their biases. They would kill us all in our sleep if we had anything of value to them; just as their predecessors did. I cannot in conscience ignore the threat he and his ilk represent. They are as vile as the Initiative."

In a surprising move, Giles sees that it's Spike that moves forward to respond. "We are not ignoring the threat they represent as much as we are prioritizing it. The Watchers are known, they're actions can to a large degree be predicted but the Initiative much less so. They must be dealt with before this becomes a war that will tear this planet apart. By and large I say let them decay it down around their ears until they're swimming in the putrid results of their excess but Wes has shown me that while there may not be hope for all; there is hope for some." His words are earnest and rather more eloquent; and for that reason alarming; than Giles could have ever thought that they would be.

"It would be foolish to judge all by the actions of some; that would make us no better than they who have always done the same." Emmanuel agrees with a gracious nod but the worried look doesn't leave his eyes. "In times past our trust in Humans nearly doomed us and I must strain the accords and ask for further concessions still though we believe that the Aurelians have spoken only the truth in saying that we are not in danger from this one and his Slayer."

One of the other pair of Demons; this a slightly built female with milk pale skin, ebony hair, and foot long blades yipping unusually long and prehensile hands and feet; speaks. Or Giles assumes that she is speaking as a rapid fluttering of her hands results in a series of sharp, metallic clacking sounds that the Vampires, Phaedra and Emmanuel seem to understand.

"That would be an acceptable compromise." The Gavriel announces as he looks at Phaedra with silent entreaty.

"It is not our way to take by force that which is not willingly surrendered. Yet this is a time of danger to all and if by conceding we can safeguard lives I cannot in conscience deny what you have asked of me. It will be done for the protection of us all." Phaedra announces solemnly, with a regal nod of her head. What cost can it be to arrange for one Watcher to vanish and never be seen again should they discover he has plans to betray them? The forest has claimed many a lost soul and for some who have embraced the radical change; it can be the start of something new. For those that deny and fight against what Nature will have done never last for very long.

"It is agreed and we are mollified." Emmanuel bows and silently retreats into the forest, the several Demons that remained behind when he did follow his example and trail him silently into the concealing foliage and are soon lost to even the Vampires' keen sight.

"What was agreed upon?" Giles demands suspiciously knowing that it had something to do with him.

"They asked for a pledge from Phaedra to rally the forces of nature in vengeance should you or your Slayer betray their cause and threaten their lives." Wes replies smoothly; knowing that it's a lie but unconcerned about lying if it protects his friends. Perhaps he can use it to convince Giles not to do anything even more stupid than what he's done already. "If the Council interferes they'll have to deal with a very pissed off planet. Phaedra's people are tied to the biosphere in a ways that we can hardly fathom much less understand. They could raise tidal waves, typhoons, earthquakes, and eruptions as well as any of a dozen other disasters that we have no hope of defending against. The planet looks after its kin and Phaedra's people are her children."

Giles looks understandably frightened by the not so subtle threat and reconsiders his idea about calling the Council. He had thought to try and plan a way to use having so many Demons in one place and at one time to their advantage and strike a mortal blow at the heart of their demonic infestation.

"The Aristae lie quiescent below us. This is not the time to betray us Watcher." Phaedra warns him bluntly. "They have their own way of dealing with enemies and unless you want to watch this town incinerate; and take every living thing with it; you'll mind your manners. You're not dealing with Fledglings and minions this time. There are Demons here that have been witness to the first of your kind crawling from obscurity and know full well how to send you back down too."

"If they're all so powerful why haven't they wiped us out?" Giles demands with arrogant assurance.

"Why would they bother?" Spike asks laconically as he steps forward boldly, his hands braced on his hips and his head thrown back proudly. "How can you of all men not 'get it'?"

"You're no threat to them and they know it. You never have been. You and your Slayers have killed thousands; even hundreds of thousands or possibly even millions over the millennia; but still Demons survive. You're like wolves or lions. You cull the weak and the foolish and the stupid and in doing that you make the rest of us stronger. You've seen only a fraction of the species, of their numbers, and you have seen what can happen when we are united by a common enemy." Angel offers. "The few that you take have never been sufficient enough for there to be a rally calling for your destruction. In many ways you serve us by removing those too stupid or foolish or plain dangerous to exist. You don't want to ever been in the position where you become a genuine threat to the Demon Nation Giles. You wouldn't survive, none of you would."

"The Initiative isn't known to everyone but the Watchers and the Slayers; they've existed for centuries and the Demons have entire libraries dedicated to the study of how the Council moves. They know where the Council resides, where our libraries, armouries, academies, and training grounds are. I've been allowed to examine just one of the many such libraries and I can tell you that it is a remarkably accurate collection. As we have studied them; they have been studying us. Only unlike our biased tomes, theirs holds the truth both sublime and ugly of what we're capable of. If they truly saw you as a threat they could easily strike at the heart of the Watchers Council and without their Watchers to help them the Slayers would be taken easily. They haven't done that because they don't have to do that to kill us." Wes supplies.

"You're not worth the effort. All we have to do to win against you is to stand aside and watch you decay by inches until you die. You have a scant hundred years if that and you're vulnerable for the vast majority of your latter years. You would pose little challenge to the overall population of Demons." Spike coolly points out. "I could spend the next twenty or thirty years doing anything that I damn well please and let time rot you from the inside out and a few scant years more for the children you've brainwashed into following you to decay into old age. That's all we've ever had to do to beat you Watcher."

"You've never beaten me!" Giles denies heatedly but his ire fades to confusion. His head rears back as Spike's depreciatingly smug smile widens into a knowing grin and Angel chuckles audibly as Wes pointedly turns away. The sound of fake coughing can't hide Wesley's amusement and it's clear that he is the topic of some sport.

"There are barely six hundred Watchers left and every year sees less enrolling at the Academy. The Aurelius Order is one of the smallest of the remaining Orders but as seen here with your own eyes, our list of allies grows fat. They could have thousands on the steps of the Central Library within the week and you think that they haven't 'beaten you'?" Wes scoffs with a disdainful sniff and almost laughs at the look of apoplectic horror on the older man's face. "Oh, I see that little fact has escaped your keen intellect? They do know exactly where to hit us to hurt us the most. After millennia of hunting them, we were so arrogant to think that they wouldn't hunt us in return and do a much better job of it."

Spike grins unabashedly proud that his studies of the Watchers and especially their Slayers, has long been the cornerstone of what the Demon Nation knows about their enemies.

The arrogant look has Giles stepping forward with a dark expression but he falls back at a far darker look from Angel, who looms protectively over Spike's shoulder.

Angel steps forward and wraps his arm around Spike's waist and insistently pulls him back against him. Spike doesn't struggle as Angel's arm slides around him from behind to let his palm rest low on the flat belly. Giles can see that the taller Vampire's hands toy absently with the ring pierced through Spike's navel; handily bared by the cropped dark blue leather vest that is the younger Vampire's only concession to wearing a shirt. His hold on his waist is so tight that Spike's actually being lifted almost off his feet, only the balls of his feet barely touch the ground beneath him. He carries him with ridiculous ease several feet away before playfully tumbling them both to the grass with the chortling blond laughing at his antics.

The look of disgust on Giles' face twists his features into a mask of hatred as he watches the seemingly carefree Vampires playing on the grass. "The world is on the brink of hell and they look like they have eternity to play around like a pair of fools." He gripes, as his arms cross his chest and lock there obstinately.

Giles doesn't see his expression falter and fall away violently. He's too distracted to feel his mouth dropping open in amazement; as Spike deftly leverages Angel's weight to the side and ends up straddling the larger Vampire's hips. He finds his eyes drawn to the expertly rendered Gryphon tattoo that has been indelibly into the canvas that is the blond's flawless skin. With every movement the mythical beast seems to roil and writhe as though alive under that silken flesh and it is a mesmerizing sight as the pair wrestle playfully.

"He bears the same mark as Angel." Giles notes aloud absentmindedly; as he stares fixedly at the sight of the tattoo. His eyes naturally drift downward to the strong and shapely curves being all-too enticingly displayed by Spike's obligingly tight pants. How could the Watchers' libraries be full of volumes detailing the legendary viciousness of William the Bloody yet have little to nothing about how attractive he is?

"Spike belongs to Angel. I promise you that he intends to keep it that way. A word of warning; soul withstanding he won't feel badly about plucking the eyes from your head if he sees you looking at him that way. He's possessive in every incarnation." Wes delivers swiftly; not liking the way that Giles is staring at Will.

"All of the stories say that Drusilla sired William the Bloody." Giles counters as he carelessly disregards the warning and keeps staring at the playfully scuffling duo.

"I didn't say William belongs to Angel; though he does. I said that Spike belongs to Angel. Darla was a harsh Mistress and would suffer no one to be above her. Angel and Angelus both lay claim to Spike, William, as they would regardless of what name he used. I'm not about to argue the point and I would advise you to put aside any thought of trying to question him about the truth. If he's kept the truth of whether he sired William or Drusilla did for this long he's not about to reveal it now." Wes warns him. "It isn't really a matter of concern."

Giles finally breaks off his staring to turn an incredulous look on Wesley. "How can you say that? You could make a career out of discovering who truly sired William the Bloody. The Watcher that could do it would be a legend in our ranks!" Giles is taken aback as Wesley's answer is an amused chuckle.

"I'm already legendary. I am the Steward of the Aurelius Order and the Guardian of more secrets than a thousand generation of Watchers. Angel intends to turn the Order from its Demon heritage and use them as the soldiers in the war to protect to planet from evil of all breeds. They've chosen me to be their guide and the whole of the Order is behind their Master. They will be formidable warriors against the darkness. I will be there to record it all. I don't need to clarify a minor point of no concern like who sired William the Bloody." Wes counters smoothly; concealing the thrill of seeing the unabashed jealousy on his former mentor's face.

"You know the truth; it is your duty to report it for posterity." Giles argues with repetitive futility.

Wesley briefly wonders if he should use smaller sentences. "You're hearing me but you're not listening to me. It is the blood that makes the Vampire, as Angelus made Dru, which of them made William is immaterial, he belongs to the blood, and the blood flows from Angelus through Drusilla and William. Who did the deed doesn't matter Angelus or Angel in any incarnation is their Sire, the source of their blood, their existence. Because Angelus is a direct descendant of the Master, who was in turn a direct descendant of Marcus Aurelius, to whom every Aurelian is blood related, makes Angelus the Blood-Sire of every Aurelian now or that will ever be. They all belong to Angel, they have all pledged their Blood to the service of the Master of the Aurelius Order. Who sired who isn't a concern, they are all united under the Blood of the Master; Angel."

"Do you mean to say Angel or Angelus?" Giles questions suspiciously. "I've noticed that either name is being bandied about too easily and too easily interchangeable." Giles grabs his arm and pulls Wes back several feet until they're almost at the boundary edge where the tall trees that encircle the edge of the clearing tower over them.

"As Spike is fond of saying, a name is a name, and if it makes you feel better to drop off two letters and pretend they aren't the same person by all means do so." Wes replies with a coolly amused smile. "The Vampires could care less which name he chooses to use so they use either name freely." Wes takes several steps away but pauses. "Learn to tell the difference between a name and the actions a person takes. Angelus was and is a predator but there are more ills in the world than demons and some of them are all too human. Angel is Angelus and Angelus is Angel; it's just a name. It's the actions that give you the measure of a man." Wes continues over to Phaedra who greets him with a warm smile and a welcome embrace.

"You have spoken the truth to a statue without the ears to hear you. His mind is closed, barren of understanding in even the smallest degree when it comes to Angelus. He wears his hatred like a sword, uses what happened in the past as his armour and his pain as a shield. He sees that Angel cannot be separated from Angelus. That is why he will forever hate them both." She counsels in a soft tone. "If he could strike at Angel without alienating his Slayer, I believe that he would; even intends to try I suspect as soon as he figures out a way to do it that won't lead to his having been the one that planned it."

"I believe that too and that's why he can't stay. We've got enough problems without dealing with a possible traitor in our midst that could turn on us at any time. If we try to send him away; he'll either refuse or leave and come back with the Council baying at his heels when he says whatever he needs to say to get them worked into a fury. He can't stay; he's dangerous, yet letting him leave has problems too." Wes worries.

Phaedra looks surprisingly resolved. "So if he can't stay but he can't be trusted to go either then he must stay but be rendered helpless to interfere."

Wes is surprised as Phaedra's usually peaceful inclinations are being set aside and he wonders what she has seen in the depths of Rupert Giles that has her reacting in such a way. "That is easier said then done I'm afraid. Giles is well versed in magic and from the stories the faculty at the Academy used to whisper about him, he is a dangerous mage. I'm not sure how well he could counter Elem magic but he's sure to try so it won't be easy."

"There is some magic that is far older than mankind and some powers that are as inescapable as a night that follows the day. One has only to know how to wake them." Phaedra promises him as her hands lift into intricate gestures. A soft mantra whispers from under her breath. "I call for the Leaflord's justice. Stand in judgement Wise Father of the Woods of our intentions and know our hearts ask this of you with open minds and hearts with ill-will to no man. We stand on the eve of a battle to restore the balance that Nature demands but we are obstructed by one whose heart is black and cold with hate." Her mantra becomes a series of almost sibilant whisper that could easily be mistaken for the ambient sounds of the forest around them.

Wes is enchanted as it sounds remarkably like the sound of the wind through the leaves of the big old oak tree that stands outside his bedroom back home. He's heard this before and he recognizes the language of the Elem-Drya, the all-but-forgotten language of plants and growing things and knows that Phaedra is calling on her heritage to speak to the forest.

The reply from the old-growth forest is swift and as merciless as only nature can be.

Giles doesn't have time to scream as the thick branches of a nearby young Maple Tree whip out and catching a series of viciously rapid blows across his temple; that sending him instantly into unconsciousness.

Spike stifles Angel's instinctive rush to help by tightening his arms and legs and hampering his movement as he calmly watches Phaedra striding over to the unconscious man. He's surprised when Angel quickly calms in his hold and relaxes against him instead of fighting him as they watch the scene unfolding before them.

Phaedra kneels and easily picks up the limp form, showing no sign of struggling with his weight at all as she carries Giles to a large and venerable Oak and lays him at the base of the wide trunk before stepping back with a graceful bow.

They all gather to watch passively as the thick branches of the tree slowly begin to stir with movement. Every stirring is obviously ponderous with age as the bark cracks and falls away in spots but the powerful tree's trunk parts slowly to reveal a faintly glowing maw. Giles is lifted by branches as strong as any bodybuilder and gently absorbed into the tree's interior and within seconds no trace of the amazing event remains.

"Is he dead?" Angel asks calmly as he regains his feet with apparent unconcern for Giles' health. He reaches down and easily lifts Spike to his feet and sets him down next to him and holds him there with an arm across his shoulders. He didn't miss Giles staring despite Spike's considerable ability to distract him at the most awkward moments.

"He's in a state of hibernation is the best way to describe it; imprisoned alive in living wood. The tree will hold him but he won't be harmed." Phaedra promises. "It is the ancient way of the forest, the Leaflord's justice that all who trespass the borders of the wooded places are subject to. He will be held and the spirits of the forest will attempt to heal his heart and mind as he sleeps."

"How long will it hold him? Is he in any danger?" Angel asks but it's clear that he doesn't really care as much as he portends. "Will he be released when we're through and away from here?"

"I have called on primal forces to pronounce their judgement and this is the ruling they have chosen. He will remain as long as he is... damaged. I can call for an intervention but I cannot direct it. His fate lies with Leaflord's justice and it may well be that he will never leave his prison if he refuses to give up the hatred and dark thoughts that damned him to it."

"That won't work." Angel says flatly. "I think that Joyce and maybe even Xander will understand since they know that Giles isn't right in the head but if what you said about Willow being willing, she'll fight this. Buffy will too, whether or not Giles was wrong, it's ingrained into her that she needs him to function. She's never been without him and wouldn't know how to be."

"I doubt they'd be able to find him much less free the Watcher but if the twits get it into their heads that we've done anything to him, they're going to go mental." Spike agrees fatalistically. "I'll be the first to say those idiotic girls need a sound thrashing over someone's knee but if they turn on us they could go to the Initiative before we're ready and we'll have a blood bath. We've been able to keep everyone in line as long as the Slayer has been playing nice but if that changes, she'll be number one on their list of 'mutilate on sight'. We won't be able to control them if she goes Benedict Arnold on us."

"I'm worried about what might happen to Spike if Buffy dies." Angel admits. "The Council hasn't been able to find the new Slayer and it's only the fact that they have Buffy that is keeping the situation even moderately contained."

"That won't work indefinitely. Buffy has flouted their edicts one time too many for the majority of the Council to consider her a viable Slayer. Her time as a Slayer is limited regardless." Wesley counters. "We've done well to conceal Will's altered state and I don't think they'd ever suspect the shell game the Ancients have pulled on them. I think that it's most likely that they will invoke some sort of spell to artificially pass on the powers that Buffy has or perhaps attempt to recreate the ritual that began the line."

"Would that even work?" Angel asks with an uneasy expression. "What happens to Spike if they do that? Would he be hurt or worse?"

"The spell to transfer the power that Buffy has to another young woman might work initially but it wouldn't be effective for long or practical. For the power to be transferred each time; the spell would be needed and the girl would have to be alive I believe at the time for it to work. That would mean having a successor and a wizard or witch powerful enough to cast the spell near at hand and constantly ready to transfer the power from one girl to another. Then there's the matter of degradation. They're preserving the power through an unnatural means and that would have consequences. Each time they passed the power on a little of it would be lost in the ether; and I believe would seek out the natural vessel intended to hold it, William."

"So every Slayer they created that way would be less than the one before? And also for every one of them that dies, Spike gets the power that they've lost and becomes stronger?" Angel translates with a confused grimace.

"Yes, until eventually the transference weakens to the point that it no longer passes on any abilities at all or at least nothing that would be an advantage over what they already possessed." Wesley can see more than one dazed expression and stifling his chuckles he takes pity on them. "The power will degrade to the point that whatever gifts passed on would be negligible, perhaps a minor boost in strength for instance but it would be far from the strength of a true Slayer."

"I get it." Angel announces happily. "It's like making a copy of a copy, of a copy and so forth. Without the original every copy afterwards gets a little worse until finally you'd start getting copies that were so bad you couldn't read them and no way to get new copies."

"Yes, that's it exactly." Wesley agrees and Angel preens proudly.

"The Ancients were far cleverer than anyone could have foreseen. I believe that setting the Council up this way was their intention and they knew that this was the route that would most likely be taken. It could take hundreds of generations for the power to ultimately be tapped out but Will is essentially immortal. Eventually he'll reabsorb the power from the Council's puppets and add it to his own and it will be passed through his bloodline to those he chooses as his successors. A new stronger breed of Slayer unlike any that's come before and I believe in time that the blood will alter its vessels. Much of the vampiric weaknesses will be offset."

"In time your descendants may well be able to walk in sunlight." Phaedra says happily to William as she wraps her arms around his bicep in an affectionate hug. "As you will yourself as the progenitor of the line."

"I've been meaning to ask you some questions about that Wes." Spike admits. "Would that happen only to Childer I sire? What affect would a steady diet of my blood have on other Vampires? Would it begin to change them too?"

Wesley looks intrigued as he considers what Spike has asked him and runs it through his mental catalogue of what they've discovered about his altered physiology. "It's possible but I think there would be a limit to how effective it is. I suppose a steady diet of your blood, maybe three to four times daily, over a long enough period of time would foster some changes to another Vampire's physiology. The changes wouldn't be as profound as yours or that your Childer would inherit and unlike your Childer and yourself wouldn't be inherent in their blood. They couldn't pass the changes on like your bloodline could."

"So if Angel fed from me exclusively or mostly he'd inherit some of the same immunities just to a lesser degree but couldn't pass them on to anyone else?" Spike asks bluntly.

"I expect that Angel may be an exception that proves the rule. Your blood-tie to him is already part of your lineage so I expect that his inheritance would likely mirror that of any Childe you would produce. He would eventually develop; evolve if you will; into another Slayer I believe. I would also think that the changes would happen at an accelerated rate and would become permanent with no need for the periodic infusions of your blood. That would be required by someone not related to you in order to maintain the changes I think."

"I like the thought of that." Angel admits. "No one could try to feed from Spike to steal his power and then kill him that way. They may be able to force the powers from him but to keep them they would need to make sure that Spike was safe, protected. They'd need him healthy to keep what they'd stolen or it would be pointless and a Spike who is alive is a Spike that can be rescued." It's clear that thought comforts him greatly.

"I was worried about what would happen if Demons became aware of Spike's changes and what they actually meant. I was afraid they'd see him as something to be destroyed." Angel frets as he moves to tighten an arm around Spike's waist.

"Some of them will see him that way and have already tried it." Wesley admits. "The Ancients couldn't have planned this any better in having Spike be the answer to their prophecy. His reputation as a fighter is well established as are his connections to one of the oldest and most prestigious Orders, as well as his being a Childe of Angelus, gives him a large measure of respect. His willingness to protect all species and not just Humans has also fostered a certain degree of tolerance for his actions."

"A lot of that acceptance was due to Wesley and Phae's influence. Their advice has been invaluable in increasing our powerbase among the Underworld clans; they're consummate diplomats. The Order is back to being respected again, or feared as necessary, and that gives all of us a degree of safety. It's not going to stop everyone trying to take us down but it will sure limit the number who could hope to pull it off without massive losses and makes them think two or three times about pulling anything." Spike praises.

"Now that Phaedra has made our alliance with the Elem public knowledge only the oldest and most powerful will try anything now." Angel adds happily.

"And as we know there are precious few old ones left in the modern world. None of the Vampiric Orders oppose us openly though they plot and scheme in private but that is to be expected. There is no way to remove every danger, plan for every contingency, or spot every snake in the grass waiting for us to falter, but what can be done to make it safer for all of us has been done." Wesley announces proudly.

"That still leaves us with the problem that began this; the old Watcher." Spike points out.

"Wes can you make it look like Giles left to go back to England, maybe to talk to the Council? That would explain his absence for a while at least." Angel asks.

"Use one of the Shape-shifters." Phaedra suggests. "They wouldn't be able to replace him for long without absorbing his memories or be able to fool them if they're around enough but it will do in the short term." She advises. "They would certainly be fooled for long enough for them to SEE him willingly leave and alleviate any suspicion?"

"It wouldn't be hard to make up a story about why they couldn't contact him or why he had to leave so abruptly." Angel adds with a hopeful expression.

"The easiest lie to tell is the one that people want to or expect to hear." Spike offers. "If he tells them that he's discovered that the Council is plotting against Buffy and he needs to go back to Merry Ole to find out what they're planning?"

"He'd have to go undercover, fake a reason why he'd abandoned his Slayer, a mock fight of some sort for the Council's 'spies' to observe, to get back in the good with his old cronies." Spike plots. "I'm sure it will appeal to the Slayer's sense of drama to help out by throwing a hissy fit even though there won't be anyone to watch her do it. Our mock-Giles leaves for his supposed undercover mission and naturally they couldn't blow his cover by contacting him. A little acting on Wesley's part and they'll be sold and mind their P's and Q's til he contacts them."

"And we arrange for them to get a message from 'Giles' every so often detailing his labours in trying to find out more about the plot to explain his protracted absence. That's ruddy brilliant." Wesley praises, impressed.

"There's only one problem." Angel points out. "Eventually someone from the Council is going to get wise to the fact that all their spies in town have gone missing and will send more. They'll find out that Giles is gone and they'll surely send another Watcher here."

"I wouldn't want to be in the bloke's shoes if they do." Spike states with an unholy grin. "What do you suppose they'll do to some Watcher; that isn't Giles; who turns up out of the blue because he's gone missing with the intention of replacing him?"

Angel catches on first and grins. "They'll think that he's undercover in England investigating the Council already. If a strange Watcher suddenly turns up to take his place they'll assume that Giles had been caught and the Council did something to him and they're covering it up. Buffy will have the Watcher out of town or worse inside two days. Whatever the Council tried to explain they wouldn't believe after that figuring it for just more lies. You're right Wes, it is a brilliant plan and workable with relatively little effort on our part once the Shifter does its job. They won't have a clue that the whole thing is a ruse and Giles has been here all along."

"What about the Red Witch? We'll have to make sure she doesn't spend much time around the fake-Giles. She'd be the most likely to spot a switch." Phaedra worries.

"We make sure that she doesn't spend any private time with him before he 'leaves'. I think we should have our decoy arrive at his shop already packed and with just a short time before he has to leave to catch a plane; say an hour or less? That will give us time to set up the ruse but not give the children much time to question it if we do this right. It will all happen so fast they won't know what hit them until hours later." Spike suggests; showing the uncanny knack he has for spinning simple manipulations that speak to the heart of the emotions of the people around him. It is only his own impatience that has foiled his plans before and it is a shortcoming that he's gone a long way to change. "As for any other mischief she may get up to... can her powers be bound?"

Phaedra considers that for a moment; recalling the specific feel of the magic that clung to the young redhead. "Her natural abilities certainly; but her aura shows that she is remarkably intractable when it comes to getting her own way. We can hamper her ability to use magic but if she wants to cast a spell badly enough she'll find a way; maybe a dangerous way. That could be more dangerous than any spell she could cast if we left her alone."

"Is there a way to prevent her from doing any spell over a certain degree of difficulty?" Angel suggests and surprises everyone.

Phaedra looks impressed. "There is a geas that can be cast on her that would do it but it requires a willing focus; someone skilled in magic, preferably a nature-mage with a tie to the Wood Realm. If the Witchling casts a spell over that which the geas binds her to, the excess power is shunted off to the focus. Regardless of how much power she drew, she'd never have the power to cast a major spell as long as the geas was on her."

"Is there anyone suitable that will do as the focus?" Spike asks, knowing that Phaedra would have felt anyone who practiced Nature Magic within the city limits within minutes of arriving here.

"This is place is accursed and how Tara could have possibly lived here; as gentle a soul as she is; is a matter beyond my ken. I sense no Nature Mages and what little good magic I do feel is still tainted by the very atmosphere of this hole." Phaedra visibly shivers. "I'm not sure that I would trust anyone who lives in this town or has for any length of time and has any power. It attracts the attention of this place too much to linger here for long. I can sense the magic of those that have followed us here to help us but I am loathe to sacrifice one to this place by making them stay behind."

"Does it have to be a Mage type or could anyone be the focus?" Angel asks trying to be helpful. "Could someone else do it or is it dangerous?"

"It would be easier if the person were a Mage of some type as they could easily channel off the energy harmlessly before it did them harm." Phaedra's brow wrinkles with the heaviness of her thoughts. "I think that it might be possible for someone unskilled in magic to do it if they had the right materials and the mental acuity to be able to enter a trance for a short period of time."

Phaedra steps away, her hips falling into a slow shimmy, her body easing into the sinuous dance; as her hands move in the graceful gesturing style of her people. It is a very rare sight to be gifted with. Few have seen an Elem Master Mage conjuring.

It is a beautiful sight to see, especially when an entire coven of sisters work their magic together. It is easy to see how the mystique of Middle-Eastern dancing girls was based on the long ago memories of ancestors who were lucky enough to see it performed when the Elem still shared their plane of existence. She whirls and dips nimbly, her dance stopping on an unheard beat and a large clear crystal forms out of the air and lands lightly in her hands.

"Wow, that's huge but pretty, what is it? Some kind of Quartz or is it something from your world?" Angel asks curiously.

Phaedra smiles and hands it to Angel who marvels at the chiselled beauty of a flawless prism. "It is a gift of your world, as this is where it must fulfil its function. In my world such stones are gifts from the Earth Father and are called Lock-Stones. If one knows the proper mental techniques it is possible for thoughts, energy, and many other things to be channelled into it and held there safely locked away."

Spike waits until Angel is entranced by the perfection in his hands and snipes. "They call them Diamonds here." He announces slyly and chuckles unabashedly as Angel fumbles and almost drops it out of shock. "I assume that you're going to ask Joyce to be the fulcrum?"

Phaedra nods. "She has continued her studies in our meditative practices and she is an Adept of the ritual. It will be possible for her to channel the magic that the geas we will place on the Red Witch will transfer to her into the Lock-Stone. It takes but a minor ritual to 'ground' the energy back into the World-Spirit where it will be naturally cleansed and reclaimed by the biosphere; recycled as I believe it is called here."

"Can you place a glamour spell on it so it won't be a target for every jewel thief on the planet?" Angel asks, his voice croaking as he hands the massive diamond back to Phaedra with exaggerated care.

"Yes, that is easily done Nanji-tal." Phaedra's voice is ripe with affection and Angel doesn't miss the pleased expression on Spike's face or the surprise on Wesley's face.

Angel leans over and whispers in Spike's ear. "What does Nangi Tall mean?"

"Nanji-tal and it means sort of a mixture between 'mischievous young boy' and 'beloved child'. It is a term that denotes great affection among the Elem. Parents use it often with their sons when they are both pleased and amused by their antics. Phaedra has all but taken you into her family by merely using it in reference to you. I expect she will approach you to formalize it among her people when we get back to the Manor and this is behind us." Spike replies in a soft whisper. "It is one of the most beautiful ceremonies practiced among her kind."

"She wants to adopt me?!" Angel hisses in shock.

Spike gives in and laughs softly. "She's already done it, nothing left but to acknowledge it by going through with the ceremony and that's more a formality than anything necessary." He whispers the reply. "To Phaedra you are a member of her line, one of her children."

"I'm over two hundred years old Spike!" Angel hisses, blushing furiously but touched by the gesture.

"You could be four times that and would still be a child in her eyes." Spike snickers. "We're still toddlers in their eyes. Ancient is a relative term and among the immortals we are children." He shrugs. "You'll get used to it. Just don't be surprised if a lot of people in the villages tend to offer you a treat; like cookies or candy; when they see you." He adds, patting his Sire's shoulder in mock consolation as he laughs openly at his poor befuddled fellow Vampire.

"Leave him alone Will before you make him faint and we have to carry him back to the car." Wesley teases as Phaedra affectionately pokes their shoulders in feigned censure.

Angel looks relieved. "So you were just teasing and that doesn't happen right?" He grimaces as three laughing faces shake their heads. "Oh God, people are going to offer me milk and cookies?" His look of sheer horror finally does in the trio and they almost fall over from laughing so hard and after a few seconds Angel finds their amusement infectious and joins them.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Angel is grateful to see the door closing behind the fake-Giles. It was amazingly easy to pull off with a surprising lack of the scene he'd expected to have to endure; with the girls crying and the weeping and begging him to stay.

It went exactly to plan from beginning to end. Thanks to some excellent acting on Wesley's part, in offering to go in Giles' place. As it was so dangerous and he was younger and fit physically and had better standing in with the Council, he was the natural choice to go. It was the perfect touch and within a few minutes the girls; who had til then been arguing with Giles to stay changed to arguing in favour of his going instead. What began as their plan to explain the protracted absence to England of Buffy's Watcher; was actually pushed through by the very girls they were trying to fool. They were proud of themselves for thinking up the idea to send Giles to England as a spy!

He sees Spike slip back into the room with Xander. From the solemn but relieved expression on his face; he can tell the young man believes the cover story they came up with for him. Spike's instinct was right on the money. He promised them that Xander would be willing to be part of the lie if there was any hope that Giles' incarceration would help him and they'd have a healthy and sane man back eventually. Xander will be their eyes and ears in Sunnydale and will keep them informed of how their ruse is progressing.

Angel motions subtly to Spike, calling him from Xander's side; not liking the way that the young man is looking at his Childe. "How did it go?" He asks quietly, as he slides an arm around Spike's waist and pulls him against his side.

"It went as we expected." Spike acknowledges as he relaxes against his Sire, He ignores the daggers being aimed at him by a petulant Slayer. She's been moping around since they arrived is in a perpetual state of pouting and it's been easy for him to ignore her antics but it only seems to inflaming her ire all the more.

"I need some exercise Angel. Want to spar with me?" Buffy offers in a suggestive and crass tone; that he's positive she thinks is seductive but is in actuality transparent but he holds his tongue and waits to see what Angel does.

"I think I'll pass Buffy. I have more important things to do then getting staked when you lose control again." Angel counters smoothly; still angry over Buffy trying to stake his Childe under the guise of sparring. "If you want some exercise go patrol and do your job. I'm not about to inflict you on any of my people again."

She looks devastated by his words. "That is so no fair! It was an accident!"

The trembling lower lip and watering eyes are a nicely melodramatic touch Spike thinks.

"I wouldn't hurt you Angel; you know that. I love you." Buffy promises as she walks over and lays a hand on his arm and subtly tries to pull him away from Spike. She unconsciously tugs harder as he fails to move but it's useless as Angel ignores the silent demand.

"You loved me when you stabbed me and sent me to Hell too as I recall. You'll excuse me if promises of you being in love with me as being protection against you with a grain of salt."

"Angel...!" Buffy trails off as her hand flies off his arm as quickly as if it were burning her.

"You have no right to say that!" Willow predictably jumps to her best friend's defence.

"I'm the one that she did it too so who else has more of a right than I do?" Angel demands angrily.

"She did what she had to do to save the world!" Willow argues back.

"That's not strictly true Miss Rosenberg, as I'm sure you've discovered for yourself. Only Angel's blood was needed to close the portal, he need never have been sent through it. Giles was aware of that fact, any scholar with even a passing knowledge of Acathla knows that fact. How is it then that your Slayer was ignorant of that fact and remains so?" Wesley smoothly countermands. "Even a cursory attempt at researching the Demon should have told you that much. It's well documented in the Council's collection as they stopped Acathla the first time it was unleashed. I find it a little surprising that Mister Giles should have missed that fact."

"Giles is brilliant and he didn't miss anything but he didn't want to put Buffy at risk! If she knew that she didn't have to kill him, she wouldn't have fought her best and he might have killed her! He was protecting her." Willow denies, jumping to her Mentor and Lover's defence as he knew that she would.

"You and Giles knew that I didn't have to throw Angel into Hell to stop the portal and you didn't tell me? Giles said it would only close if the one that opened it was given to it." Buffy's tears, real this time, finally fall and Willow looks stricken to her soul to be caught in the conspiracy to mislead her.

"We were trying to protect you Buffy!" Willow swears rushing to her friend and urgently patting her heaving shoulders. "You didn't need to be distracted since it was Angelus you were fighting and not Angel."

"Even though you planned to soul him back up, you didn't tell her about that clause?" Spike questions coolly. "It would have changed everything! I would have stayed and helped her if I knew that she didn't know about how to stop the bloody Demon! Distracted my ass, the old man wanted revenge for his gypsy witch!"

Angel gently shushes his angry Childe's hurtful but true words with a gentle nudge of his cheek against his. "It's in the past and best we let it stay there. We have now to deal with." Angel decides and looks over at Wesley. "Has there been any word on Finn?"

Wesley pulls a notebook from the pocket of his jacket and flips through it. "Nothing concrete but he's been spotted coming from one of the houses on... Conrad Avenue."

Angel can feel Spike's muscles stiffening and he knows that Spike can feel his own tensing in reaction and instinctively soothes his Childe by stroking his hand along his back.

Wesley feels the sudden tension and looks up from his notebook in alarm. "What is it?"

"There's a...." Angel trails off not quite sure how to phrase the truth to minimize the shock.

"It's a cathouse for people with a fetish for being chew toys." Spike says flatly.

"Oh Good Lord, there's a Vampire Brothel on Conrad Avenue? I'll send someone over there right away to check things out." Wes grabs his cell phone from its belt case and flips it open.

"Have them clear it out Wesley." Angel orders, furious at the thought of Finn finding a way to feed his recently induced Vampire fixation against his orders.

If the bottom-feeders that populate such places have been giving Finn his fix, he's likely addicted beyond any redemption now and will never be able to lead a normal life; not that he cares much about that. His only concern is for the Childe he carelessly used as a weapon against Finn; only to create a greater threat to Spike in the form of an obsessed stalker.

"Why don't you send in your Pretty Boy to find out if Riley's been in there?" Buffy asks snidely, her tears miraculously stopping.

Spike's lips twitch and within seconds he's laughing. "It sounds like fun." He decides as he looks up at Angel through his lashes playfully. "Can I go play?" He asks eagerly.

Angel chuckles and nods his head. "Sure, there can't be more than twenty Vampires in there so it won't take you long. Wes, is Rona back from dropping off her charge?"

"Yes, she got back a couple of hours ago." Wes confirms.

"Good, ask her to get a couple of the others to escort Spike to Conrad Avenue will you? I don't want him alone with the Initiative in town." Angel asks before turning his head to look at Spike. "Do you need her to bring your bag?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Wesley dialling his phone but doesn't pay attention to the conversation.

"No, I have what I need." His features ripple from Demon back to Human. "There's only twenty and I'm sure Rona will insist on helping, the others too." He admits. "They probably won't leave that many for me." He mutters in mock irritation.

"That's going to have to wait." Wesley's voice is grave and his expression is a grim one as he closes his phone with a loud snap. "Rona and a few of the others are already at Conrad; they went as soon as they got the report on Finn being spotted there. Turn on channel four."

Xander hurries to the small TV that he begged Giles to buy for the shop and quickly finds the channel as they all gather around.

The sight of a pretty young reporter with a sombre expression back lit by the glow of flames and haze of smoke is crystal clear.

"The Police have cordoned off the entire block and Fire Engine companies from four counties are converging on this location to try and contain the disaster. For those viewers just tuning in, approximately two hours ago, a massive explosion rocked the Conrad-Everhardt block of Sunnydale, California. The fire is burning out of control and half the block is in various stages of burning to the ground. We have no estimate for the number of potential fatalities but several families have had to be evacuated to neighbouring hospitals for emergency treatment for burns and smoke inhalation. We have three deaths confirmed but the death toll is expected to rise as the night progresses. The fire has spread rapidly from home to home and the Fire Chief is calling for all volunteers with any emergency training to rally at your local fire station for immediate deployment to the scene. Again, the fire department hasn't released any details of the disaster but our sources are reporting that arson is the expected cause of the fire consuming this neighbourhood of historic homes. We'll keep you apprised of any developments in this situation. This is Adrianna Seydoux reporting for Channel 4 News; back to you in the studio."

Xander turns down the volume on the TV with a shaking hand but leaves it turned on. His parents' home is less than a block and a half away and he resists the urge to call the house; knowing that his concern will only be a source of ridicule for his Father.

"Rona and the others arrived to find most of the block in flames and the house Finn was seen leaving seems to be where it started." Wesley explains gravely. "Rona says the local Vampire population is getting restless and demanding vengeance against the Initiative. Finn's actions may well have started the War."

"You can't be sure that Riley had anything to do with setting that fire." Buffy argues; though it's more out of habit of defending her boyfriend, former boyfriend, then to defend Riley.

"Sorry Buff but even I think that's too much of a coincidence and it's not like just anyone can BLOW UP half a neighbourhood. They don't sell explosives at Walmart." Xander scoffs. "He was there and it exploded, it's pretty clear that he had something to do with it." He points out.

"Rona's withdrawn the patrols and pulled everyone back, the Initiative is out in full force." Wes reports dourly. "They're picking off any Demons they're coming across and raiding known congregation areas and salting the sewers with Phosphorous. Hundreds of Demons are fleeing only to be picked off and they're not bothering to capture them anymore."

Angel lets go of Spike and stands up tall. "We don't have anymore time, spread the word that we're going to move on them tomorrow night. Start getting everyone moved into their positions. I have a special job for you Spike." The blond quirks his eyebrow up in surprise and waits for Angel to tell him what he needs to do. "Take Erick and Rona and track Finn's ass down and bring him to me."

"Do you want just his ass or the other parts too?" Spike asks with malevolent glee; an unholy gleam burning in his eyes.

"I don't care how many parts he's in as long as most of him is there for me to finish off." Angel snarls angrily.

"I'll have to take Sam with me." Spike states and heads off the argument he can see forming. "I promised her that I wouldn't go after him without giving her a chance to settle the score with him. Don't ask me to break a promise because I won't do it."

Angel steps closer to Spike and cups his cheek with a gentleness that stuns most of the spellbound observers. "I'd never ask you to break a promise; I know how much your word means to you William. I need Finn alive, not necessarily intact but alive enough to answer for what he's done." He strokes his hand along Spike's face and enjoying the feel of his silken skin; not even the urgency of their situation can steal away his enjoyment in that simple pleasure.

"The Blood Hunt has been called and there is only one way to stop this from becoming a war and you know that's for every person who played a willing part in what the Initiative has done to pay for it. Almost any other soldier and death would be enough but not for Finn. He must stand as the proxy for The Judgement along with that soulless cow that began this nightmare. Only then will the Clans be pacified and end the Hunt." Angel explains quietly, even though he knows that Spike knows the laws that govern the Demon world as well if not better than he does. He trails to silence both able to sense and see his Childe visibly relaxing and listening to him.

"What does that mean; that judgement thing? Is it like People's Court for Demons?" Xander asks in the baited silence.

"We don't have time for this but I'll explain. Spike, go and be careful. Keep your promise to Sam but you'll have to stop her if she goes too far and bring him to me alive. If we lose Finn, I don't think we'll be able to stop this town from being razed to the ground and the State soon after it. I know I can trust you to get this done for my Childe, now go."

Spike nods silently and with a brief nuzzle against Angel's hand he steps away and visibly composes his self and strides for the door with a purposeful stride.

"If it's that important, I should go too." Buffy announces and starts to follow Spike but she doesn't get far as her arm is hooked and she's pulled to a stop. She stares at Xander in shock as the bell over the front door announces Spike's departure. She pulls lightly at his grip but it doesn't loosen so she tugs harder. To her surprise she doesn't immediately dislodge his hold on that attempt either. When did he get so strong? "Xander let me go!" She demands.

Xander fumbles briefly as he quickly releases her arm and stares vacantly at his hand as though it were some strange appendage that he's never seen before. Why did he stop her from following Spike?

Buffy storms out of the shop at a jog but returns moments later with a dark scowl. "He's already gone. Thanks a lot Xander! I could have talked Riley into giving himself up and coming with us. Spike will probably kill him now!"

Angel and Wesley laugh shocking all of them.

"Spike will do exactly what I told him to and bring me Finn alive." Angel states with absolutely assurance. "He knows what to do and why it has to be done."

"You said you'd explain?" Xander asks, still staring at his hand for another second before slowly letting it fall to his side. He doesn't know what made him stop Buffy but he knows it wasn't concern for her safety that prompted him to do it.

Angel nods and quietly murmurs to Wes; who nods and swiftly departs the store on whatever errand Angel has sent him to do.

"The Demon community as a whole is usually a collection of loosely connected Clans, Nations, species, and so forth. Each Clan is left to rule its people as it wills and there is a constant struggle between these different factions. It is that more than anything else that controls the population of Demons and maintains the balance between Humanity and the Demons. Humans reproduce like mice, packing greater and greater numbers into the finite space of the planet. Demons have much smaller populations." Angel explains as he promised.

"Those Demons that reproduce through whelping, have children, generally take more than a dozen human lifetimes to mature and then to have more than a handful of offspring in the entire course of their lives is very rare. Humans will always outnumber us but they have absolutely no chance of besting us physically. We're stronger, faster; we don't have your weaknesses or your limitations. Planned obsolescence maintains your human population, you're born, and you grow, age, and eventually wear out and die. The Demon population is controlled by other Demons. By our very natures we can't live peacefully among our brethren for long without strife. The endless cycle of inter-clan warfare is possibly the greatest stroke of luck Humans have. We're so busy warring among ourselves that humanity is our least concern. Some Clans have never set eyes on a Human while some as you know prey on them. In truth the oldest species are content to have little to do with Humanity; who frankly consider you to be a sub-species beneath their notice."

"Great, we're the relatives no one wants to invite to their parties, big deal." Buffy scoffs.

"What does that have to do with the judgement thing?" Willow asks, intrigued in spite of her loyalty to Buffy.

"I get it." Xander announces surprising everyone. "We're in this trouble because the Initiative tipped the balance right? The Demons hate them more than they do each other."

"That's exactly it." Angel says, unable to hide his amazement or his approval however reluctantly given. "There have been the rare cases when a threat is so great that it puts every Demon in danger and when that happens; hostilities are put aside and we'll cooperate for the greater good of us all; we band together as one nation. That is what is happening now."

"And it's all because the Initiative killed a few Demons here or there? They were protecting Human lives; we should be helping them not trying to stop them from doing it." Buffy snaps.

"This isn't because they killed Demons, though that would have angered the Clans that lost members, it wouldn't have brought this response. Demons expect death; actively court it in any of a dozen ways on a nightly basis. They respect death and the vanquishing of a foe through mortal combat. This isn't happening because the Initiative killed Demons, it's because of what they did to them before they killed them or worse kept them alive for their experiments. The Nazis did the same thing to the Jewish people and others and you humans went to war. Did you expect Demons, species BRED for war, to ignore what was going on?"

"So this is what, the Demon version of a blockade or an embargo?" Willow asks fascinated by it all and trying to pack what she's learning away in her mind to tell Giles when he comes back.

"I suppose if an embargo or a blockade involved bloodshed." Angel answers honestly. "When a threat like this is sufficient enough, the Demon Nation call what is called a Blood Hunt and every Demon will turn its attention to eliminating the threat. They won't stop until the threat is broken and recompense has been made in the form of The Proxy. Think of it as countries rather than Demons or the Initiative. Your country attacks other countries, those countries then allies another and another to defend against you, until the majority is against you. The majority then sanction your country and call for an accounting for the crimes committed by its members, or in this case it's Leaders that precipitated the attacks. Those most responsible bear the brunt of the dishonour because they were the ones most directly involved see?"

Willow and Xander nod that they understand but Buffy doesn't do anything but stare at Angel fixedly as she worries the chipped polish on her thumbnail.

"So the only way that the Hunt thing gets settled is if Riley and the other 'Uppity Ups' in the Initiative stand trial or something for experimenting with and torturing Demons?" Xander surmises.

Angel nods. "That would be it roughly yes. Just destroying the Initiative wouldn't be enough. Someone has to be held accountable for what they did and by sacrificing a few we may save some lives. We've discovered that not every soldier or scientist in the Initiative is there willingly. Some have been forced or coerced or in at least one case that we know of, brainwashed into working for them. We've compiled a list of the ones that we could identify and we'll try to get them out if we can before the attack happens. We've got one of them already. Phaedra's people are going to try and help him and the others if they can. By having the Proxies to bear the lion's share of the blame, we can maybe save those who haven't willingly been helping them."

"And if we don't give them their, whatever, the tribunal thing they won't go away right?" Willow states.

"There are still countries on this planet that are actively hunting war criminals even though the wars are long over; do you expect that to go away? For the Blood Hunt to be concluded it must have exactly what its name implies, blood for blood." Angel replies.

"This isn't you Angel. You wouldn't say things like that, you'd find another way, and I know you would. This is Spike's influence over you!" Buffy argues. "You wouldn't act like this if you were in your right mind, I know you."

Angel's laugh is chilly as he shakes his head. "You're barely out of High School and I've been alive longer than this town has had a name. You don't know me, you don't even know your own mind yet; you haven't had the time. You're also ignorant of what it means to be a Sire. I am the Sire of Sires to Spike's bloodline; it's I that has the influence over him. He is the blood of my blood, the last of my Childer thanks to the Initiative. Let the Bastards drown in their own blood."

"Oh my god Angel; they killed Drusilla? I thought Faith....?" Willow gasps.

"Faith did kill Dru." His eyes flicker to Buffy. "And Spike tracked her down and killed her; though as I've discovered since, he was only slightly ahead of the assassins the Council had sent to do the same thing. I had two other Childer, Penn, my first-sired, and Samuel, my last-sired and a souled Vampire like I. They were a mated pair, Brothers and companions for Spike, my favourite, in my absence. The Initiative took them both and experimented on them until they tortured them to death. So tell me Buffy, since you 'know' me so well, how I feel about that."

"You... you dust vampires all the time. What makes them so different?" Buffy argues.

"They were mine. A hundred plus years and I'd never dusted them and I could have, It would have been easy, Masters or not, they would have come to me if I had demanded it and stood there and let me stake them. I never did because they were MINE. My soul wouldn't let me accept them as they were but it wouldn't let me kill them either. They would be safe with me now in my home, as Spike is, if the Initiative hadn't stolen them from me. They killed two of my Boys and now your Buffalo of an ex wants to take the last and most precious of them from me."

"So that makes you cranky; we get it." Xander tries to mollify the situation.

"The thought of losing Spike makes me homicidal not cranky. I failed all the others but I won't fail him, not ever again. He's had to survive for over a hundred years without the protection and affection that is due him as my favourite. I plan to make up for that."

"What does that mean? He's your favourite what; Martian?" Xander asks genuinely curious about the feelings that bind the two Vampires so tightly that he can almost see it shimmering in the air all around when they're anywhere near one another.

"Vampires sire Childer as a way of increasing their power within their Order. The more Childer a Vampire has, the greater number of allies they're assured. A Sire with a cadre of strong Master-Childer; who in turn Sire and train their own Childer and so on; is one that demands respect. A Master who has never sired Childer is always considered weaker than one that has Childer, and one whose Childer have survived to become Masters is the greatest of all. It is a one of a Master's most important duties, locating, siring, raising, and training Childer to become Masters themselves and increase the Order's population. When a Childe is matured they're sent out to create their own lineage but they will always be tied and bound to their Sire's bloodline."

"Spike is a Master too; does that mean that he has Childer too?" Xander wonders aloud.

Angel smiles with surprising tenderness. "Spike has always been a special case because of his status in my Lair. You see even among Childer there are differences. Some are turned because they'll be strong fighters or because of some other trait that their Sire wishes to cultivate. Favoured Childer; they don't sire Childer of their own; that is forbidden to them by most Sires."

"So Spike was chosen because he was a fighter right?" Buffy reluctantly asks, slowly becoming interested in the conversation despite her feelings.

Angel chuckles. "Would it surprise you if I said no? Spike's abilities as a fighter are formidable but those skills he gained from necessity. Because his Sire, because I, betrayed him by abandoning him; Spike had to learn to fight to defend himself and to protect Dru who he was left to care for alone. William was and is a very special Vampire."

"Was it because of that mind whammy he put on Riley?" Willow asks with wide eyes.

Angel laughs again and shakes his head. "On very rare occasions a Sire is lucky to find a true companion in eternity and a special bond is formed between them."

"Oh, oh, oh and those are the favourite childer right?" Willow asks, bouncing lightly in her chair with excitement.

"Yes those are the Childer that will become the Favoured, the Childer that their Sires hold above all others. Unlike the other Childer, a Favoured will never leave its Sire's side. They're intended, as I said before, to be companions for eternity and will spend their lives in their Sire's lair, protected and cosseted for all their days. In ancient times horrible wars were waged over Favourite Childer, as Sires warred to try and steal the strongest Favoured and make them their own. Spike was, is, the jewel in the Crown of Aurelius. By abandoning him, I left him vulnerable to every Vampire who thought it was strong enough to claim him. My leaving had only one benefit, it created one of the most formidable Master Vampires ever sired. Spike taught himself to fight and to do better than anyone else and he defended himself when it should have been my duty. No one was able to claim him and soul or no I think that I would have killed anyone that succeeded. He's truly the strongest of our kind because he was never intended to be what he has become. The respect given to him, he's earned."

"He's not the strongest, you've beaten him." Buffy points out.

"I've beaten Spike in fights; that is true but it had nothing to do with which of us is stronger or has more skill. He belongs to me still and his Demon knows when its Master is near and he never fights to the best of his ability against me. I win because I'm his Sire-Master not because I'm a better fighter than he is." Angel reveals.

"So why are Favourite Childer forbidden to have Childer of their own?" Willow asks.

"Because they belong to their Sires right and they don't want competition." Xander offers before Angel can answer but he glows as the elder Vampire nods to confirm that he's right.

"Like I said though, Spike is a very special Vampire and atypical for a Favoured. He is as strong; if not stronger in some ways; than me, he's risen above his station, and could renounce my claim if he wanted to but he has kept it intact. His loyalty is all but unheard of in a Vampire and it is one of the qualities that I most prized in him. He is all the more magnificent because he is strong enough not to serve as my Favoured yet chooses to do so. I accept his service but I can no longer command it, our relationship has changed." Angel confides.

"Giles said that you're mated to Spike; are you?" Buffy asks bluntly.

Angel is silent for several seconds. "Your Watcher isn't the font of knowledge that he would have everyone; including himself; believe. I have taken Spike as my Consort; that is a very different relationship than being mated. I cannot, I will not, take Spike as my Mate because mates never survive the death of their partners. Our lives are too dangerous for me to put him at risk because I went and got myself dusted, so I've taken him as my Consort, my equal. Spike has a Childe; well a half-Childe; you've even met her, Rona. He shares her Sire-hood with his Uncle, my Brother but in time he will Sire Childer and we will raise them together."

"If I were a Vampire, we could be mated." Buffy muses, looking entirely too interested for Angel's peace of mine.

"When the Master of an Order takes a Consort; they never take a Mate as well, they can't. There's nothing left over to create the second bond. Because Spike is both my Favoured and my Consort; I will neither have another Favoured Childe nor a Mate because he is in essence, if not in name, both of them to me already. We are a bonded pair, well beyond merely being mated."

"So you're like married to SPIKE?" Willow squeaks before she blushes madly as images of the two vampires together flood her mind and make her stomach flip flop nervously.

"Marriage is a human concept; a construct that you invented in the mistaken belief that labelling something permanent would make it so and another word to make believe that it never happened at all. Demons don't get married; the bonds we forge are well beyond your ken and the only divorce known to our kind is death once we've bonded. I'm not 'married' to Spike. I am bound to him and him to me for as long as we exist. He was made to be my complimentary half."

"If you've always loved him so damn much; why did you let Dru turn him instead of you? Why did you lie to me and tell me you loved me when you knew you loved him? Why even bother to pretend that you ever cared for me?" Buffy asks bitterly. "How could you leave him, me, if you 'loved' us so damned much Angel?"

Angel looks embarrassed. "I had a soul and he didn't. I thought that we couldn't co-exist as we were and maybe we couldn't have; not that I tried very hard back then. I know that we can make it work between us as we are now though. Darla was a jealous Sire who never handled the fact that I wanted Childer and that they would divide my attention from her. She tried to deny me the right of Childer but as The Master forbid her to ever take a Favoured; she couldn't force me to give up the idea. She warned me though after I sired Dru that she would find a way to kill any other Childe I sired and I believed her."

"But I've read about your family line in Giles' library Angel. Both Spike and what was his name again, Samuel, came along after that." Willow points out.

"I couldn't take the chance that Darla would make good on her threats but she'd forgotten an important fact. I didn't have to turn someone myself to be their Sire as long as I had Childer. Dru was a seer, a very powerful one. I don't know if she saw a glimpse of the future or somehow had seen my thoughts and knew I wanted him. What I couldn't take Dru gave me when she brought him home to us. She never tried to be his Sire but left him immediately for me to claim as my own while Darla was away on an extended visit to The Master's court. By the time she returned I had claimed him and taken him as my Favoured and our bond was complete and she could do nothing about it. A Favoured has protected status among its Order and to kill one is to break one of our highest laws and to court a painful death. Because Dru turned him, Darla couldn't make a case for her threat since technically Dru was his Sire not me; so she couldn't touch him. She tried several times to get The Master to intercede but I think it amused him to see her get no where with her plans and schemes. He was always a very possessive Bastard; even for a Vampire; and anything that kept my attention away from her suited him." Angel explains.

"So Dru turned Spike as a gift for you?" Xander stifles a chuckle. "That must have been some difficult gift-wrapping job there."

"What about Samuel?" Willow ignores Xander's buffoonery and pushes ahead with her questions; knowing that Giles will be fascinated to hear all of the details. The histories in the Watchers' libraries are sketchy at best in regards to aspects of the facts when it comes to daily Vampire life.

"Samuel was turned during the war with Germany many, many years after I was cursed with my soul; when I was forced to sire him to save a dozen other young lives. I was far from being Darla's lapdog any more and since I had a soul, her influence over my Demon was limited and her commands didn't bind me any longer. The Americans approached me with an offer I couldn't refuse and I ended up on a sub in the middle of the war. I found out that several Vampires had been captured by the Nazis prior to my arrival and imprisoned before they'd escaped and wrecked havoc on the Americans and Nazis both. One of them was Spike; who I was surprised to see bore me little ill will. He was always the most loyal man I'd ever met, Vampire, Human, or any species in-between." Angel recalls.

"What would the Nazis want with Vampires?" Willow asks looking ill and shocked.

"They had the bright idea of using Demons as weapons and had been experimenting on them for a while. Spike and several other Masters had been caught in a raid and placed in caskets to be shipped to one of their 'camps' but somehow Spike got out. He freed the others and well as I said, havoc."

"Spike and havoc should be synonyms." Xander jokes but everyone is too sombre to laugh.

"There was an incident and the sub was damaged and the humans onboard were slowly suffocating. Sam was a young man but a capable one and he tried to make the repairs that would save everyone from suffocation when he was stabbed by one of the Nazis; who had escaped. I knew Sam was dying and we needed him to make the repairs that would save the others, I was forced to turn him so he could finish his work but I was never his Sire; only the Vampire that turned him. Meanwhile Spike found out that the Nazis had kept records of their experiments and I realized that is what the government had been hoping to secure when they sent me after the sub. I made them burn them all; or so I thought; but I was obviously wrong."

"What do you mean you were wrong; wrong about what?" Xander asks.

"The experiments that the Initiative is running are too similar to what the Nazis were doing to be a coincidence. They got their hands on the records of the experiments somehow and have been continuing them since the war most likely. This group here in Sunnydale is just the latest incarnation of the experiments that began in Germany."

"The Nazis run the Initiative?" Willow asks in horrified amazement. "What happened to Spike and Sam? They obviously escaped but how?"

"I abandoned him; made him go over the side. Then I forced Spike to follow him. I just couldn't take the chance that the government would get their hands on him too; so I played the Bastard and made him go overboard with Sam." Angel doesn't find the recollection a pleasant one.

"I think I knew that Spike wouldn't abandon his newly fledged 'Brother' and I was right." Angel's eyes glisten faintly as he recalls the painful wrenching sensation in his belly as he watched Spike climb out of his life again.

"Spike took Sam under his wing and brought him to Penn; my oldest Childe and the Master that had taken my place as an adoptive Sire to Spike. They remained together for a while until Dru's needs forced Spike to rejoin her and resume his duties in caring for her once more. I didn't know it at the time but my soul had somehow affected Sam too. He was a strange hybrid of a souled human and his Demon; like Spike's; was highly integrated with his human half. It's what lets them retain so many of their human traits and allows such a high degree of control over their Demons. Penn and Sam were never apart, when the Initiative took them, they never left but died together. Spike is the one that found out what happened to them, the dog tags he always wears are belonged to Penn and Sam. He and Wes found them when they raided another Initiative lab and found out what had happened to them."

"That's why Spike hates the Initiative?" Buffy asks quietly. "They killed him Brothers. And one of them had a soul?" A genuine tear falls from her eye and she quickly sweeps it away.

"The Initiative could care less who they use to carry on their work. Look what they did to you. No one you know is safe from them Buffy, no one. Do you honestly think they wouldn't be interested in picking apart Joyce to see if they can find out what's so special about her that she gave birth to a Slayer? Or that they wouldn't be interested in studying a witch, especially one that had a Werewolf for a lover? Maybe a young man that managed to get possessed twice and has an uncanny knack of being Demon-bait as well as dating a former Demon too? All of you would have found yourselves in their cages and labs eventually." Angel pauses but decides not to coddle them from the reality of their situation any longer.

"Just like Tara and Oz did. I had no idea that the Initiative existed, I never would have known you were in danger or where to begin to look for you if I did. It was Spike and Wes who clued me in to what was going on and saved me from one of their sweeps. They've been slowly decimating the labs and facilities they could find and raiding their convoys; which is fortunate for Tara, Oz, Amy, and Spike's friends Andrew and Clement too. They were saved and have a safe place to live. A lot more weren't so lucky."

Willow gives in to her tears and Buffy rushes to hug her friend and tries to comfort her but inside she wants to give in and breakdown too. Her whole life is a huge, stinking mess of unsoundness.

The sound of the front door bell draws Angel's attentions away from the young people as he looks over his shoulder in time to see his Brother Aaron ushering his Childe Osanna; clutching her lap top case; and Phaedra in ahead of him before following them in with Wesley bringing up the rear, his arms holding several neatly folded maps. The planning will begin in earnest.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Angel watches as the hands of the clock slowly betray the time that Spike has been out of his sight and his protection and he bites back a growl. It took them nearly two hours to set their plans and Spike still hasn't returned and for every minute more that passes his worries grow.

"You don't have to look so worried Brother. Erick is very nearly as old as we are and Rona is one of the strongest fledges I've ever been around and they both adore William. They'll keep him safe; and he won't need much help. It's unholy how strong he is." A softly familiar voice advises him.

"When he first sent for us, I didn't recognize him at first. He's still the most beautiful Vampire I've ever seen but what I could sense in him...." Aaron trails off briefly. "I've never felt anything like it, not even from the Master at the height of his strength. I'd heard all the stories about him but I could never quite believe them to be true. I guess I was remembering him as he was but I believe the stories have become pared down versions now and don't accurately recount his adventures."

"That's my Boy, the Vampire Poster Boy for Mayhem." Angel replies dryly, smiling as Aaron chuckles at the comment. He watches his Brother for a moment and feels warmth pool in his stomach and realizes that he's missed having Aaron and his carbon copied twin Childe around.

In his first decade or so as a Vampire; before Darla's obsession with keeping him to herself drove them away; Aaron and Erick were almost constant companions. He sometimes wonders if their leaving wasn't part of the reason why he became as cruel as he had been and so dedicated to wiping out any remaining vestiges of his humanity.

"Do you still live in the Vienna Chantry?" Angel asks, realizing that he doesn't even know where his blood-brother is living or anything about his life.

Aaron doesn't look offended by the question and shakes his head. "I'd taken over the San Francisco territories from the Myntaazi; a Bastardized Order made up of exiles from other Orders. My bloodline holds it still through Osanna's eldest Childe but I and my two First-Sired moved to Shadow Glen a village that the Elem built for us near the estate where Will lives. The majority of the Order lives there by the Master's command to safeguard the bloodlines. We can't take the chance of losing our numbers before we can replenish the Order; the Elders and their Childer in particular are vital as you know."

"You're older than I by two years; mastery of the Order is yours by the lore of succession; why didn't you take it? Why leave it to W... me?" Angel asks curiously, quickly realizing that he can't let on that Spike is heading the Order when everyone has been led to assume he is and quickly covers up the mistake.

"I've never been a lover of politics as you know Brother. It's an aversion that has passed to my Childer. The Master knew that I would put the welfare of my bloodline above that of the Order if I were forced to make the choice between them. He needed a successor that would put the Order first and that was never I. I left his court expressly to avoid all of the games he liked to play on everyone, so he chose you." Aaron lays his hand on Angel's shoulder and squeezes lightly.

"I couldn't be the leader the Order needed in his eyes and Darla would have been an equal disaster; though for different reasons. The Succession was given to your bloodline and would pass to Penn and he did a fine job for his time but that time has passed. We can no longer afford to be the Vampires we once were so we must change. You will take us into the future rather than preserving a way of life that can only exist in the past." Aaron comments confidently.

"You have a lot of faith in me." Angel comments, looking slightly overwhelmed but the fleeting emotion is quickly submerged beneath his veneer of confidence as though it was never there to begin with.

"I do but I also have confidence in those that have gathered around you to guide you well." Aaron admits. "They won't lead you astray, you can trust in their best intentions."

Angel's reply is interrupted by the front door being shoved open and he looks over his shoulder to see a pair of bound feet floating through the door as Rona wiggles her way inside. The young Vampiress has clearly been in a fight, her clothing is torn and her skin is marked by injuries in various states of healing. Erick is in next, supporting Finn's upper body and his condition is little better than his Fledgling Sister's but both look to be fine and well on their way to recovery.

Finn is obligingly unconscious but from the state of his body he didn't give in quietly and the heavy manacles closed around his ankles and wrists are locked securely. The fight must have been tremendous because there are also heavy lengths of rope twined around his legs and around his torso to pin his arms in place and he's gagged.

As though choreographed, the pair carries the limp soldier over to Angel and drops him in unison at his feet with a dull sounding thump as Spike stalks through the door holding a severed arm.

"We've got a problem, a big one." He announces as he drops his grizzly prize on top of Finn's bound form. The severed arm is trailing bits of flesh and wires but instead of being stained by the dark blood of a Polgara Demon a thick viscous white sludge is oozing from the torn appendage.

"Is that a Polgara...?" Wes asks as he hurries over to prod at the unusual looking body part.

"It used to be but that's not what it was on." Spike announces, his voice is slightly shaky and his injuries are still slowly leaching blood.

Wes pulls the ballpoint pen from his pocket and prods at the ragged flesh where the arm was torn off. "This isn't Polgara blood...." He notes as his examination releases a fresh torrent of the white substance. "Good God, there's circuitry in this, diodes, and circuit boards! What the hell did this come off of Will?"

Angel and Aaron surge forward and gather their childer up and press them between them, sheltering and fussing over their injuries as they shelter them between them.

"Someone in the Initiative has been playing Doctor Frankenstein and about as successfully. Some bloody monster of a thing tried to stop us from taking Finn and I ripped that off the freak and it barely seemed to react. There wasn't any bleeding; other than that white whatever it is; but lots of sparks and sizzling. I'd hazard a guess that whatever that thing is escaped and they've been sending out patrols to find it and it found Miller's squad first." Spike explains looking shocked and horrified. "It... part of it used to be human but they've grafted parts of at least half a dozen other Demons to it. It's not alive but it didn't really smell dead. I don't know what it is!"

Angel doesn't give Wes a chance to ask any more questions as he physically picks up Spike and carries him through the doorway. Aaron wraps his arms around Erick and Rona, marching his Childer after his departing Brother and follows Angel into the gym.

"Where is Sam?" They can hear Aaron ask.

"Spike made her go back to the house. She was... crazed. She kept trying to run off and find Finn herself every time we took our eyes off of her. I don't think she planned to let him live." Rona's voice drifts back to them. "So Spike made her go home before she got herself; or us; killed. I called to make sure she got there and has someone with her."

Phaedra darts past them all with nimble grace; intending to rush ahead into the training room and pulling out the thick padded mats to cushion the hard floor for her injured charges.

Seeing them leave, Wes snaps to attention and grabs Finn's bound feet. "Get this lummox's legs would you?" He asks to the open air and Xander rushes over and wrestles the unconscious man's weight off the floor with a little difficulty but he manages it. "Follow them and get that arm!" He orders as he struggles to manoeuvre the unwieldy weight of the soldier through the door after the Vampires.

Buffy grimaces but gingerly picks up the arm and doing as Wes says; Willow hesitating with an uneasy glance at the front door doesn't follow. She moves behind the counter and flops onto the stool with a huffing exhalation. The shop is Giles' livelihood and without Anya there to take over someone has to mind the shop for the last few hours before closing time.

"Alright get those clothes off!" Angel barks as he carefully sets Spike down on the mats and starts to peel Spike's shirt off over his head.

Aaron directs his Childer onto the mat next to the blond and within a few seconds the trio is bare and being fussed over by a pair of anxious Sires.

Buffy almost trips over her feet as she enters the room to see Angel crouching over a naked Spike. The sight of Angel licking at the seeping wound on the Blond's upper thigh floods her body with au unexpected and uncomfortable thrill. Her eyes are drawn to Spike's body like iron shavings to a magnet.

She's fought the younger Vampire enough times to know that his body is trim and strong but seeing him without clothes drives home how beautiful he is as well.

Spike's body is defined and his musculature is chiselled; each muscle standing out clearly; without a spare ounce of wasted fat anywhere. She can see the smooth rippling of his skin as he moves subtly under Angel's persistent licking. She remembers Giles telling her that a Vampire's saliva had healing properties and assumes that Angel is trying to close the wound with delicate swipes of his tongue. The expression on Angel's face is an amazing mixture of worry, affection, and pleasure and she wonders if it's the blood that's causing it or the fact that Spike is sitting passively; letting him help him without arguing about it.

Buffy glances at Aaron as he is doing the same thing to his Childe's scratches but she's not moved in the same way and she turns her attention back to Angel and Spike and sucks in a startled breath.

Spike's pulled Rona between his legs and her shirt is unbuttoned and hanging open as Spike slowly drags his tongue over a long wound that curves along the top swell of her bared breast and into the valley between and along her breastbone. Angel has shifted his attention to the scratches on Spike's sculpted back to allow the younger man to tend to the Fledgling's injuries.

Rona's mewling whimpers as she presses against Spike shudder through Buffy's body, weakening her legs as she watches the young woman's pleasured writhing. Rona's dusky skin is beautiful against Spike's paler tones and they make a striking couple but it's not even close to how incredible Angel and Spike look together. As Buffy watches Spike's hand curves around the back of Rona's head and draws her mouth to his throat and the Fledgling bites gently through the thin skin. The sounds of her hungry moans are distracting as she all but climbs into Spike's lap as her frantic swallowing is audible in the suddenly silent room.

Buffy looks around and sees that Wes and Xander have dropped Riley on the floor in the corner farthest from the door and are watching the scene as raptly as she is.

"That's enough Rona." Angel's voice is commanding and it garners an immediate response.

The young Vampiress instantly releases her fangs' hold on the wound in Spike's neck. She licks it until it heals over and finds herself wrapped in Erick's arms; as Angel pulls Spike flat under his body to reach the scratches in the small of his back.

Buffy can see Angel's lips nibbling at the skin along Spike's spine. It's only when he turns his head to the side to spit something out that she realizes that small splinters of wood are embedded in the skin of Spike's back and Angel is using his teeth and mouth to pull them out.

"What did that abomination do to you my Boy? Your back is full of splinters." Angel mourns as he seeks out every tiny but deadly piece of wood and removes it as gently as possible.

"He threw Spike through a door when he stopped him from taking Finn from me." Rona supplies from her Brother's comforting embrace. "Spike told me to take him and run; I did."

Aaron's touch is gentle on her shoulder. "You did the right thing Childe. You're far younger than Erick and William and it would have been far easier to hurt you than them. You listened to your Sire and let him and your Brother concentrate on whatever that thing is they were fighting. Do you need help with William, Angelus?"

"I think half the door is stuck in his back." Angel states by way of an answer and Aaron leaves his Childer to take comfort in each other and kneels on the other side of the prone Spike.

Angel moves to take the right side of Spike's back as his Brother's sensitive tongue tracks the splinters in the left side and carefully works them free and spits them out to the side. Spike gasps and arches in reflex as Aaron is forced to use his fangs like needles to cut into the muscle to free a deeply embedded shard of wood and pulls it free with a small torrent of blood.

Buffy stares as the blood oozes out of the deep wound slowly; like hot fudge from the can before you heat it up. It looks as decadent and dark as the rich confection and for a moment her mouth waters with the desire to run her tongue along the stream and see it if tastes like it looks. Even as her mind is whispering its forbidden desire disgust chases it from her mind. The Polgara's severed arm drops from her numb fingers to land with a thud at her feet and she stumbles from the room and the sickening thoughts echoing through her brain. What have Riley's drugs unleashed in her?

She never notices Wesley's interested eyes watching her reaction and sudden departure with suspicious eyes. He turns away and his eyes fall on Xander who is standing unnaturally still; his arms wrapped tightly around his middle and his mouth hanging slightly open, a single drop of saliva clinging tenaciously to the corner of his mouth. He follows the slightly dazed eyes back to Spike and they cling there as tightly as a burr to fur.

Spike is at the center of a constantly shifting pile of Vampires and a single Elem. Erick has joined his Sire in tending to his ailing Nephew in removing splinters from Spike's back side, working on a thigh as his Elders tend to his back. Rona; too young to tolerate accidentally ingesting any chemicals from the wood slivers; is cushioning Spike's head on her lap and cooing soothingly to her half-Sire. Phaedra is using her long elegant nails to tweeze out the splinters her sensitive fingertips are finding in Spike's other thigh.

"Could you get some towels and some bottles of water if you have some?" Wesley asks, snapping Xander out of his staring gaze with a small jump of shock. "We'll have to flush his skin to make sure all the bits are cleaned out or they could turn septic and not heal."

"Giles always keeps some clean towels and bottled water for when Buffy trains. I think the water is cold though, would it be better if it was warm?" Xander looks surprised to be asked to help too.

Wes can see that the young man can barely take his eyes off the tableau before him.

"Is that what it's like? To be someone important; loved enough that people care so much about them? I haven't been home in nearly four days and I'm not sure my parents even know that I'm gone." Xander jumps in place, startled at the sound of his own voice; as though shocked to hear his thoughts spoken aloud and perhaps he is.

Wes wonders how deep into neglect the young man has fallen and makes a decision. "Warm, water would work the best. Cold water can cause the wounds to contract and close up before the water does its job." He concocts even though it really doesn't make a difference. The cool water wouldn't feel much different than his skin and warm water would cool rapidly on his skin but he's sure that Xander would feel more useful if his role was more involved. "You'll need to make sure that it's not too hot though. What is hot to us can scald Spike until his skin acclimates to the temperature so you'll have to watch for that."

Xander nods and rushes off with a happy nod, just glad that someone is depending on him for a change.

"That was a nice thing you did for the boy Wesley." Phaedra notes with a smile in her voice.

Wes turns around to see that he is the recipient of several admiring gazes and he flushes faintly and clears his throat gruffly. "Yes, well I... just nevermind." He decides any attempt at explaining would just prolong their teasing he lets it go. "Do you know what the... whatever it is wanted with Finn?"

"It referred to him as his Brother a time or three but from what I saw I don't think it was literal since Finn didn't seem to recognize it as anything related to him." Spike notes from the pillow of Rona's lap. "I'd say he was more horrified than anything but there's more. The behemoth wasn't alone."

"He had a mini-me with him; a mostly human one but it smelled off." Rona confides.

"What the hell is a mini me?" Angel lifts his face long enough to ask and growls audibly as snickers of amusement surround him.

Spike lifts his head to stare at Angel and shakes his head in fond disgust before he lets it fall back onto Rona's lap with a dull thumping sound. "I'm sitting you down when we get home and making you watch movies until you catch up to this century." He promises.

"Erick and Spike got closer to it than I did. I didn't see much from where I was and then they told me to leave." Rona confesses.

"That thing has been making itself a playmate out of what looked like spare parts from about a dozen people and about as many Demons. I think we can guess what happened to all the bits of Miller's squad that we couldn't find." Erick admits. "I don't think it's as good as whoever made him though because I've smelt zombies that weren't that rank and it was next to useless. I barely hit it and its arms and part of its chest fell off but it was pretty protective over the thing all the same. It threw Spike through the door and out about hundred feet into the street when he saw me hit it. I had no choice; I had to make sure that Spike was okay so I went after him and left the thing in there."

"That thing has managed to get some of the local Demons on its side. Erick and I had to kill nearly a dozen to get back and by the time we got back inside, it was gone and so were the pieces of the other one." Spike recalls.

"There was a huge hole in the rear wall. I'd swear it just must have walked right through it to get out because it didn't get passed us." Erick confirms. "I'm sorry I let it get away Sire."

Aaron caresses his Childe's hair with obvious pride and affection. "You took care of your Sister and Cousin; it is all that I would expect of you. They and you are more important to me than any clockwork soldier. We know it is out there and we'll find it again and be prepared to deal with it this time. You and Spike are the best damn trackers I've ever seen; can you track it back to its lair?"

Erick and Spike nod in unison but it is Spike that answers for them both. "We got a snoot full of its scent but it won't be hard if it's still got its broken playmate with it. No one could miss the stench that hangs off it. A human could track that stink."

Angel looks pleased at that news and more than a little relieved. "Then the Gavriel won't have any trouble finding it and chopping it back into spare parts."

"You're planning to send the Gavriel warriors after it?" Aaron asks in surprise.

Phaedra nods her understanding with a regal dip of her head. "The Gavriel are a noble people with a singular conscience. Let them rest easier knowing that the only life they will take is that of an unnatural creature that never should have existed to begin with. They have never been killers and let us not make them so now. They will go after this creature that William and Erick have seen and their spirits will not be broken in the doing of it."

"There are enough Demons to handle the soldiers that are left." Angel agrees. "Our final estimates can claim no more than three hundred of the soldiers and perhaps half that number of scientists and other staff and those will be easily taken. Have we made any progress removing the ones we've tagged as being unwilling participants?"

Wesley nods. "Nearly a dozen have been secured and transported, some we can't find and I fear that doesn't bode well, and there is a small group of three or four inside the facility. We can't reach them as yet. As we are being forced to move so quickly, I saw little harm in snatching the others within our reach outright. The chaos in the city with the fire was the perfect cover. They'll probably assume they're stuck behind one of the cordoned off areas until it's too late to do anything about the ones missing."

"Initial tests on young Miller are fairly conclusive. The Healers have found that his body contains high levels of various drugs and some compounds that they can't as yet identify. Some of them seem to be metabolic enhancers that increase his muscle mass and decrease the production of certain neurotransmitters involved in pain reception. At least two of the compounds seem to be psychotropic but without further tests they're not sure exactly what they do. They're positive that his mental state has been significantly impacted however. There are definite signs that he's undergone an extensive psychic reconstruction. They aren't sure if enough of his original psychic signature is left to attempt a full restoration but they're hopeful that the conditioning can be reversed. He may not be as he was before they fouled his mind and body but he will be free." Phaedra reports. "We have no results for the others as yet but several show some of the same unidentified compounds identified in Miller."

"The Congress has placed their fates solely in your hands Milady. We will accept your recommendation as to their dispensation in this matter. If they are truly pawns in this, we will not seek their lives but if they are part of this...." Angel states with a dark expression.

"The Elem stand by our alliance with Aurelius. Any that are found to be willing will be turned over to face the justice of the tribunal before the Demon Congress." Phaedra swears.

Xander's arrival breaks the sombre mood. He's juggling a large plastic basin, steam curling up in faint wisps, a thick roll of absorbent bandages, a large Thermos and a stack of fluffy towels. "I put some of the antiseptic wash that Giles keeps around for Buffy in the water, is that okay? I don't know if Vampires get germs or not but I figured it wouldn't hurt to be safe right?" He stammers nervously. "I warmed some blood in the microwave too."

Wes helps him by taking the bandages, and Thermos, and towels from him and smiles warmly. "You're right it can't hurt. When wood comes in contact with vampire blood it reacts to it and can become a type of toxin deadly to them in large enough doses. The antiseptic will act like a purge and flush the wounds and scour out any remaining traces of the toxin." He doesn't mention that it will also burn like Hellfire itself inside even the smallest scratch and chemically cauterize the wounds. He knows that Spike won't make a sound despite the pain as the Boy only had the best of intentions.

"The blood will help him to heal much faster too. That was good thinking Xander." Angel chimes in to state.

Wes is gratified to see that Phaedra reacts to his statement instantly, rising smoothly to her feet as her silken skirt swirls around her legs. She lifts her arm and the dozen slender gold bracelets around her wrist clash together delightfully and making a musically pleasant sound to accompany the movement. He knows that she's aware that the next few minutes aren't going to be very pleasant for Spike and he's relieved to see that she is taking the boy in hand. He doesn't need to see the pain that his good intentions have consigned Spike to suffer.

"Why don't you come with me Young One? The family will tend to the Young Master and we shouldn't leave the ladies alone for long in such dangerous times. You can tell me of what you saw on your visit to my homeland and tell me of the adventures that you had." She invites Xander who quickly walks over and sets the bowl of gently steaming, antiseptic-laced water next to Angel before hurriedly taking her hand with a smile.

His chatter is already fully in force before Phaedra can subtly guide him from the room and carefully to close the door after them.

Xander is blissfully unaware of the sharp cry of pain that echoes through the thankfully soundproofed training room.

"Stop it, stop hurting him!"

Angel looks over his shoulder at Finn; who is trying to struggle with the bounds that have him hog-tied; with a snarl, his upper lip reeling back to reveal a glistening fang. "We're not hurting him for the hell of it, there are splinters stuck in his wounds that have to be cleared out. If you Bastards hadn't made that abomination, Spike wouldn't be hurt."

"We didn't...." Finn starts to deny but then his face twists as Spike cries out again.

Aaron is carefully using his hand to dribble in some of the antiseptic-laced water from the bowl into one of his deeper wounds. Erick is using a towel to thoroughly sweep away the tiny splinters of deadly wood that are swept clear of the wounds his Sire is tending. Angel has turned his attention back to Spike and nicks a small cut in his wrist and drips his blood directly into the cuts that have been cleaned out.

"That thing wasn't authorized by our superiors. Professor Walsh, Maggie Walsh, she made that thing and it turned on her and somehow escaped from the facility. Our standing orders are to recapture it for study and eventual termination. We don't know how the Professor managed to animate dead flesh; the ramifications for medical research could be profound...." Finn tries to justify.

"You've created something that sees Humans and Demons alike as spare parts!" Erick growls. "Is that the legacy you were after? It's turned at least one of your pals; or parts of him anyway; into a twisted version of itself. There could be a dozen of those things by now and you want to study it? We should just go home and let the Humans' stupidity kill their species off. We wouldn't have to lift a finger. You just can't leave well enough along can you?"

"It's true; they are a very short-sighted species as a whole." Aaron agrees. "From fists and fangs, to clubs, to spears and the bow, to the last they were weapons to aid them in the hunt. Then hunting for food became secondary to killing to possess things and your fellow man became your prey of choice and weapons of hunting gave way to weapons of war. You've created weapons so dangerous that to use them would kill yourselves as well as the enemy. Humans are indeed a foolish species. Demons learned truth long ago about the balance that must be maintained if existence itself is to be maintained. Scorch the earth and nothing grows and all suffer for it."

"You're so noble yet you hunt and kill people for food, war among yourselves, you've the same faults as we do but less of a moral compass to direct you. You're no better than we are." Finn argues.

"Demons have been warring amongst our selves since the beginning of all things and never have our wars been known to your kind or threatened the planet. Yes we feed, as we must to live, yet even our depredations are not known to most of your kind. For our numbers, few of yours are taken and of those that are many are never missed. We take the forgotten, the foolish, the weak, and cull them from the numbers that are outstripping the resources you have to support them. We are the same as the lions and tigers and bears." Aaron preaches.

"Oh my!" Spike, Erick, and Rona all chime in unison and a grinning Angel half-heartedly chastises them with a glance to settle them down.

"We serve a purpose, distasteful though it may be to you; as I am sure it is to the animals your species preys on; but it is the law of all things. Everything exists as the prey for something else. Your problem is the same one your species has always had; it is untenable for your kind to be less than the masters of all you survey. What you cannot control, you seek to destroy." Aaron lectures. "How many species has your kind wiped from existence simply because they were in the way or you prized their skin, oil, flesh?"

"Demons aren't people; they're animals; monsters." Riley argues, his face twisting with rage.

"You have laws that make it illegal to be cruel to animals." Aaron points out with a half-grin that curls one corner of his mouth upwards. "Consider us your jury."

"Judge and Executioner too as well I'm sure." Riley sneers.

"No, we're not the ones who will stand in judgement of you. We're charged with bringing the guilty to be judged, it would be biased to give us a voice in the proceedings. We are neutral; our task is only to bring you before the Congress to answer for your actions and nothing more. Your trial will be in other hands. As soon as you are remanded, I am taking my family and friends home; far beyond the reach of humans. Sooner or later some fool will take it into his head to try and repeat the Initiative's foolishness and I plan to make sure that you won't steal any other Childer from me." Angel corrects, stroking his hand along Spike's arm comfortingly as Aaron finishes flushing the wounds out.

The fresh influx of Sire's blood helps the meticulously clean wounds to supercharge Spike's already accelerated healing kick into a higher gear and the smallest wounds heal before their awed eyes. Within moments Angel is able to gently lift Spike to his feet; the blond showing little sign of the injuries that would have been fatal for a younger Vampire.

"How are you feeling?" Angel asks quietly.

"I feel like finding that thing and tearing it limb from limb." Spike answers honestly, muttering under his breath about the tiny knocks in his leather coat.

Aaron chuckles and ruffles Spike's hair. "The Brat is fine and mine are no worse for the wear. We were lucky that thing didn't do more damage."

Angel scowls darkly. "We should have known about that monstrosity. The scouts are falling short of my expectations."

"You'll have to excuse them; most of them have been languishing without any real structure to their existences since they were whelped. The state of the Orders has never been in such disarray. Childer and minions are being created and abandoned almost as quickly as they can rise. There are entire generations with little to no knowledge of their true heritage." Aaron tries to justify. "It has become rare for a Fledgling to even know it's Master's name much less the lineage that they descend from."

Angel looks shocked at the very notion and well he should be. When he was sired; and in the fullness of time presented his own Childer before the Court of the Orders; it was a social faux paus of the highest degree to fail to observe the traditional rites. The Master who failed to observe the tradition could expect to be ostracised at best but at worst a much more unpleasant result would be their fate as their own Order would turn against them.

He recalls having seen the results to the less fortunate and politically adept Masters of other Orders and he swore that he would never know their fate. Each of his Childer was duly presented according to the tradition within two years as the scriptures dictated. It took a tremendous amount of careful planning on his part to manoeuvre the dangerous eddies of the Master's court. The only good fortune he had was in the fact that the Master's condition had deteriorated and he would often spend up to a year or two at a time in a strange fugue state. The running of the Order and its affairs was left to his functionaries and the sycophants that had managed to curry his favour. His Childer, they were easily presented during such opportune times, and were spared the Master's less than welcome attentions. It was fortunate as his William would have been sure to catch the twisted eye of the Master; whose excessive but exacting appetites were as the stories of the Boogieman to Human children, a nightmare tale.

"Many of them have no idea which Order they're even descended from." Erick adds.

"That is unconscionable." Angel growls. "Even at my worst; I never left a Childe to fend alone. I knew Spike would care for Lawson in my stead as I could not be a proper Sire to him."

"What difference does it make?" Riley scoffs. "You're talking as if they were helpless babies and not bred killers. It's like worrying about whether or not a Great White Shark feed itself."

"Vampires for all your righteous dogma aren't animals by and large. You're judging a species by the relatively few minions you've managed to dust and have no idea what they're really like." Wesley rebuts with a scowl. "Masters bear little resemblance to Minions and since Childer are chosen with the intent to raise a future Master, they are as different from any common minion. What do you think they do? Run around just turning every other person they come across and leaving them to rise like a Farmer scattering seeds?"

From the embarrassment and sheepish look on Riley's face it is clear that is what they thought.

"God save me from Amateurs." Wesley mutters in genuine annoyance. He looks at Erick. "How long have you been with you Sire Erick?"

Erick smiles at his Sire and twin. "I have never been apart from my Sire Wesley. Even for the brief time that I was Human and he wasn't, he still kept me close and protected me. I am well over two hundred years old, my Sister Osanna is nearly half that number, and we have always remained with our Sire."

Wesley turns his head to smile at Rona. "Rona rose into the welcoming arms of both her Sires and has been with either Spike or Aaron since then." The Fledgling smiles at her Sires and nods her agreement as Wes turns to look at Spike. "Spike went from Angel's household to his Brother Penn's and occasionally Aaron's household until he could care for himself and Drusilla but they would gladly have kept him I'm sure."

"William has always belonged to Angelus above all. We could shelter Spike but we could not take the place of his Sire. I know that I can speak for Penn when I say that it never occurred to us to even try. We knew that we were only standing in temporarily."

Angel looks touched as Spike nods and he wraps his arms around his Childe and holds him close. "I swear to you by every law of God, Man, or Demon that I will not leave you again."

Wes walks over to stand hovering over Riley. "These are the animals? What Human parent has that devotion? Hundreds of years between them and still their Sires look after them; even now knowing that they're hardly helpless. My Father has barely said a kind word to me in my memory and I'm not sure he could even tell you for sure when my birthday is or how old I am." He watches as Riley drops his eyes but he's not sure if he's ashamed or envious and decides that he doesn't care which it is. He's had enough of Riley Finn and swiftly casts a spell that forces him into a deep sleep. "Can we finish this and get the hell out of this town?"

That gets a hardy round of approvals and Angel gathers his extended Clan together and shares his plans.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Angel shrugs his shoulders, settling the new knee-length black suede duster that was a gift from Spike and Wesley, around him as he watches the pair suiting up. It has been an education for him to watch them getting ready; knowing that he's witnessing a sight that has occurred nightly for the two plus years the men have been patrolling together.

Spike is wearing the same dark leather and denim that he was on the night he and Wes appeared out of no where to save his life and the lives of his friends. He watches as an amazing array of weaponry is secreted on his Childe's person, ending with the tightly braided length of leather-covered wire that conceals a garrotte that he is artfully coiling around his wrist and securing by slipping the loop over his middle finger. It still amazes him that Spike chooses to use such things when his deadliest weapons by far are the ones that the change has given him. He could cause devastation enough with just his fangs, claws, and by opening his mouth and unleashing his astonishingly accurate verbal knives concealed as commentary.

Sam is hovering protectively nearby but out of the way in a far corner; still leery of the unfamiliar people and Demons she's been exposed to. She is relatively calm in proximity to Spike and Wes and Angel is glad that she seems to be having one of her lucid spells. Movement catches his eye and he turns his attention back to his Childe.

He chuckles as Spike patiently puts up with no less than half a dozen 'checks' by their extended family; all of whom have had to suffer through a similar gauntlet as their gear was checked and rechecked and minutely adjusted to death. He had a similar experience as nearly every member of the Order stopped to subject him to the same ritual. He expects that it is only his looming presence and that of Aaron, hovering watchfully at his shoulder, that has restricted Spike's suffering to only the dozen or so Vampires that he's closest to.

Wes, dressed entirely in a black uniform that is vaguely reminiscent of a military uniform, is kneeling next to Spike and double-checking the small hand guns he's carefully handing over to Spike. One is slid neatly into a concealed holster around Spike's left leg while the other fits securely into a holster at the small of his back. Wes hands over the deadly P-90 last, rising only to meet his own gauntlet as Spike gently spins him around to check his gear.

Satisfied Spike taps his shoulders with his closed fists and Wes turns back around and right into a hug that he instantly sinks into. It's clear that the pair is close and the trust between them is obvious and eye-catching. He's seen more than once envious glance being sent their way by Buffy and her friends.

As soon as Wes steps away, he and Aaron are on the pair who sigh audibly but make no move to escape their trailing hands checking catches and straps. The check is quick but thorough and with barely a pause or a glance, Angel urges Spike into his Uncle's care as he intercepts Wesley being gently pushed his way by Aaron.

"You're good." He announces to Wes at the same time that Aaron is saying the same to Spike but it turns into a chuckle of amusement as the pair then turn on them for more of the same.

"I think you would have found something wrong the first, oh six or seven times, you've all done that." Buffy comments snidely. She flushes with embarrassment as she's blatantly ignored and she turns away to talk to Willow.

A startled yelp has her spinning around and she stares as Xander is pulled into the midst of the three Vampires and the 'freelance' Watcher and given the same thorough inspection. With all four working in concert, it takes only moments before Xander is gently guided free of the group as Phaedra and Rona are pulled in.

Buffy snags Xander's arm and yanks him over to stand with her and Willow; wrapping a possessive arm around his to keep him close. She's not used to being overlooked, especially for Xander, and she doesn't know what Angel is trying to prove.

"That's it, we're ready." Angel announces gravely. "Does everyone have their assignments?"

"There are assignments?!" Buffy shouts. "We didn't get any assignments; we're assigment'less!"

"You don't have an assignment to get." Angel informs her. "The unit leaders have been given their instructions and you'll get your orders from the leader of the group you'll be with."

"I'm not a Leader? Why aren't I a leader? I can lead! I'm totally a Leader!" Buffy argues.

"Right now you're a whiner." Spike notes with amusement and Buffy turns an interesting shade of reddish purple before she closes her gaping mouth with a snap.

"Buffy, you're not familiar enough to handle taking a lead role in this. We're not patrolling for some minions or scattered Demons tonight. We're taking on trained soldiers and scientists frightened enough to be capable of anything. I need team Leaders who know what they're doing. You'll be going with Wesley's group along with Osanna and Rona to secure the facilities computer center. We need those records to make sure we've cut the heads off this Hydra. Willow will hang back with Phaedra's contingent. She's got the Healers. The Mages have been assigned to her as well. Just take your direction from her and she'll get you through this Willow."

The redhead nods and looks relieved to be relegated to a support role outside of the main fighting.

"What about me Angel?" Xander asks looking nervous but ready to help. He's cradling the large semi-automatic Spike handed to him; after finding out that he'd retained far more of the training he'd gained with his soldier possession than he'd let on; as thoughtfully as a live grenade.

"You'll be coming with me and mine." Spike informs him and Xander looks relieved. "We'll be going in as the Vanguard for Wesley's team, clearing the way for them to get into the facility. It's not going to be easy; they're not going to just let us walk in there so if you don't think that you can handle it.... You have to be prepared to defend yourself. We're loaded with tranq charges but that doesn't mean it won't come down to you or them and you may have to take lives to save your own."

"They've been drugging on of my best friends for months and spying on the rest of us for no good reason I can think of besides using us. They hurt Oz and Tara... I'm ready to do what has to be done to keep them away from Willow and from hurting Buffy any more." Xander swears.

Angel nods satisfied. "You'll be going with Spike and Sam's team." He verifies, confident that Xander won't let Spike down and get him hurt by refusing to do what's necessary. "I'll be taking my group through the University and herding any soldiers that we find ahead of us. Aaron will lead his group through the forest and cut off that route and herd any soldiers towards us. Erick's group will be stationed at the track facility where we'll be holding all of the soldiers to keep them contained. We've had teams out systemically blocking certain access and egress points Osanna and Fred were able to plot for us from the schematics they've hacked. That should force them up through the remaining tunnel that leads to the track field." Angel explains.

"What happens once we've herded them into the Track and Field stadium?" Xander asks.

"Once Wes and Spike's teams are clear the facility is going to be razed from the ground up. It will be a slow but thorough process so anyone inside should have adequate time to get out through the last open escape tunnel. We will be waiting to take them prisoner with the others. Phaedra has a list of the soldiers and scientists we believe have been coerced into serving the Initiative's ends. They'll be tranquilized and removed from the rest and taken somewhere safe while we try to help them."

"What about the rest of them? What is going to happen to them?" Willow asks looking scared to hear the answer.

Angel hesitates over his answer and Spike steps in. "The only way to make sure that this idea doesn't find fertile ground to grow again is to scorch the earth. You know that Willow, we've discussed this at length already. These few hundreds die here tonight or the billions of lives that will be destroyed when this goes global. How long do you think people; who have no idea that Demons are real much less how to fight them; are going to last in a war Girl?"

"Can't you send them somewhere else?" Willow entreats. "I've been looking up portal spells...."

Phaedra and Wes hiss and look horrified and Willow drops her eyes, knowing that opening portals is something that even Masters of the craft hesitate to dabble with lightly. The balance of forces required are notoriously sensitive to any of dozen factors that can cause them to fail catastrophically with hideous and unpredictable results.

"Where would you suggest we send them Willow? We'd just be unloading our garbage on some other plane's doorstep and assuming that the plane we managed to send them to; is one that they could even survive on. Do you have the smallest inkling how many planes are virtually uninhabitable by our species? How many of them are home to creatures that would regard us with the same lascivious delight that we do Shrimp on a plate?" Wes snaps. "Better their deaths be quick and clean, not lingering and torturous in some Hell dimension."

"It wouldn't have to be a Hell dimension! There are infinite...." Willow starts to argue.

"You will be silent." Phaedra commands, her tone infused with warning and showing a modicum of sense Willow obeys mid-word. "You speak of serious matters as though they were things for children to play with. There is strength in you; I sense it; all with the gift have sensed it." Willow looks inordinately proud of herself but it doesn't last for but mere moments. "As we have felt your utter lack of regard for the natural laws that all should obey. You would use your magic to reshape the world as you believe it should be whether or not that vision is what others see and that makes you very dangerous Sorceress."

"I'm a Witch not a Sorceress." Willow argues.

"You call on forces that are not contained within yourself. You demand where a Witch would ask and you would use magic not only beyond your control but beyond you ken. You are no Witch." Phaedra announces as she turns to glance at Wesley. "You were right about this one."

Wes sighs and nods. "This is a complication that we didn't need right now."

"You'll have to deal with it." Spike warns them both, before turning and leaving without further word, one by one everyone but Buffy, Xander, Wesley, Phaedra, and Willow follows him.

"Come on Buff, this is magic stuff and it doesn't have anything to do with us. We should go with the others." Xander urges, taking the blond's hand and gently pulling her after the departing Demons and the silent Sam. "Wes can help Willow with the witchy stuff, we're all smash and bash."

It's a measure of her lingering suggestibility; due to the drugs Riley's been giving her; that Buffy allows him to pull her away without comment or protest. It is a measure of Willow's arrogance that she doesn't wonder why she's been left alone with Wes and Phaedra until it's too late.

Several minutes later there's no sign of Willow when Phaedra and Wesley walk up to join the large group being segmented into smaller units by Angel.

"Hey, where's Willow?" Buffy asks, immediately noticing her absence, not noticing Xander's solemn scowl and the worried glance he sends her as he sees the pair without Willow.

"In all of our planning we overlooked someone to protect Joyce. If any of them escape it may occur to them to go after your Mother, so sending Willow to look after her seemed prudent." Wesley smoothly explains, not batting an eyelash over the lie that Buffy accepts unquestioningly.

Phaedra escorted Joyce safely to her people personally before they all met at the mansion to get ready for the raid Xander knows.

He knows that somehow Willow has found her way there as well and he's positive that it wasn't willingly. He wonders at how much his friends have changed. What has been done to his friends by the Initiative; and he's sure that they've got something to do with the changes in his friends; has it changed them beyond any attempt to fix them? He hopes that the plan to fix Giles works or that they never see the man again if it doesn't.

He gets that Giles was under some influence he can't understand when he did what he did to.... The thought trails off as he realizes that as wrong as it was Willow was a willing participant in their affair and he can't blame everything on Giles as much as he wants to. Willow could have come to him at any time for help but instead she helped to keep him and Buffy in the dark and get increasingly scary in the ookie magic stakes.

"Harris, you ready to go?" Spike's voice snaps Xander out of his thoughts and he nods and jogs over to the small but heavily armed group clustered around the blond.

He looks across at Buffy standing with her group and glowering at Wesley as he goes over their orders and sighs. "I think you should switch Buffy and me."

Spike looks up, his eyes easily finding the petulant Slayer hovering defiantly several feet from her group as she shoots black looks at Wesley's back. His eyes narrow and glint dangerously in the half-light. "Angelus...." He calls out softly.

His Sire is at his side before the sound of his name fades. He can't hear what the pair is saying but Xander watches as the taller man listens intently to Spike, occasionally glancing at Buffy before shaking his head vehemently. Spike doesn't give up and after a few intense moments he succeeds. He can see the second that Angel gives in with a caressing touch to Spike's cheek and reluctant nod before rejoining his group of milling warriors.

Spike motions to him and Xander jogs over to stand beside him. "Okay Xander, you'll be going with Wes. Send the Slayer over here when you get over there. Tell Wes that it was just a last minute change of plans so that I can keep an eye on her. He'll understand."

Spike watches as the young man nods and strides over to Wesley's group and leans over to whisper to Wes before joining Buffy and doing it again. It's a marginally less combative Slayer that sidles over to stand with his group. He hides his surprise when she burrows into the heart of them to stand just behind him. He ignores the burning itch between his shoulder blades that tells him she's staring at him and refuses to give in to the instinctive need to move so she's not in a blind spot.

Four of the burliest minions from Angel's group surreptiously move over to join his group. It is then that he knows that his Sire has seen the uncharacteristic show of camaraderie from the Slayer too; and trusts it as much as he does. If she's suddenly being agreeable there must be a reason but he doesn't have time to dwell on it now. His attention is needed for more immediate necessities like keeping them all alive and preventing a war that will doom humanity if it comes to pass.

"Everyone pair up and stick with your partner; I don't want anyone alone in there, everyone stays within sight of each other. We're going to move one section at a time, clear it, secure it, and move on, a pair of us staying behind for each cleared section as the rear guard. Watch your spacing; every rear guard should be placed so that you can see the one before you and the one after you. Our brain trust has worked out how many people we'll need to pull this off and we've got enough to spare so no one go being a star. This isn't about being a hero; it's about being alive; so to speak; to have a pint with your mates for living through this. We need to make this a quick and clean strike, and get Wes and his group in to the computer center and then hold the perimeter." Spike orders, giving his gun a final check before carefully thumbing off the safety.

"Sam, you're with me!" He adds hurriedly as he starts to feel an arm curving over his bicep from behind and ignores the muffled growl of annoyance from the Slayer. "Let's go!"

He strides in the direction of the ventilation shaft that Osanna and Fred have pinpointed as their best chance of entering unobserved.

Chapter Thirty

Angel watches anxiously as another soldier is harshly pushed into the nervously milling herd of captives surrounded by the vampires and various other demons confining them.

The only bright spot is the arrival of the Gavriel warriors with the burnt husk that is all that remains of the abomination that attacked Spike and Erick yesterday evening. Most of the organic compounds had burned away leaving only the melted remains of the cybernetic components and he can only imagine what a horror it must have been whole.

A warm grip on his arm pulls him from his horrified observations of the smoking remains that bear mute testimony to the damage that the Gavriel's lava-forged swords can cause.

"Something is wrong; they should be here by now." He frets to Phaedra; as Spike and Wesley's teams are late reporting to the rendezvous and he's growing worried.

"Wesley and William would call if there were anything they couldn't handle." Phaedra points out. "I'm more worried about the minions that you sent to get that Finn character from the Watcher's Shoppe. They definitely should have been back by now since he should still be unconscious and could hardly put up a fight."

"You're right, it's no more than a twenty minute round trip, and it's been an hour." Angel agrees. "Aaron!" He calls out and breathes a sigh of relief as his Brother appears from the throng. "The minions we sent to retrieve Finn haven't returned. Do we have their Sires...?"

"Two of them are Osanna's get and the other three were unclaimed that pledged their loyalty to our House and Order." Aaron reports; realizing that Angel wants to know if the Sires of the minions could tell if they had been dusted. He reaches for the radio clipped to his belt and taps the transmitter. "Osanna, report on your status," When he only hears static he taps the miniature receiving pack cupped over his left ear. "Status report insertion teams!" He barks worriedly when his Childe doesn't respond.

"Is... this... Aaron...?" A familiar male voice responds; muffled through the crackling static but audible.

"Is that you Xander?" Angel asks barely recognizing the voice through all the interference.

"...Yes... heavy fighting... soldiers holed up... Riley's... down... thinks... dead... send us... help!" Comes crackling over the radio in broken spurts and Angel's stilled heart almost beats from the rush of fear-induced adrenaline flooding through him.

"Aaron, you're with me!" Angel snarls, loping for the nearest exit with his Brother a snarling presence at his side. He hears shouting behind him and from the sound of it he knows that Erick has sent several Vampires hurtling after them. He looks over his shoulders and sees that nearly a dozen are only a few seconds behind them and Phaedra as well, her long legs easily keeping up with the swiftly moving group. He's glad to see her as her magic may be necessary to keep his family intact.

"Something must be jamming our radios!" Aaron calls out, never breaking his loping stride that keeps him abreast of Angel. "How do we get in to them?"

"The fraternity house has the most direct access. We'll force the elevator doors and climb down the shaft cables!" Angel shouts, leading them to the remains of the trashed fraternity house and cursing virulently. The damage was more extensive then he realized and the house is a riot of flames and dangerously splintered wood. "Phaedra!" He shouts.

The Hamadryad Queen doesn't bother to answer as she lengthens her stride and darts around them and ahead of them. She leaps into an intricate dance as fiery and passionate as the flames. Within seconds clouds gather and the heavens open and the flaming wreckage is doused with raining torrents of extinguishing water as the elements answer her call.

As they run up behind her Angel can see the slender forms of other Elem materializing out of the darkness, some out of thin air, others from plants, and still others seeming to melt upwards from the ground itself, in answer to their Queen's silent summons. Within seconds Nature itself has become their ally as the elementals work together to wield their awesome powers with the skill that has rightly become legend.

The fire has actually done them a service as the Elem skilled with fire easily take control of the now controlled blaze and mould it as easily as sculptors and remove the dangerous wood. The weather Elem shape the sudden rainstorm to put out the fire in the spots its not needed and protect the surrounding structures; as the Earth Elem shake the very foundations to collapse the unstable structure and clear the rubble from the path with small controlled quakes.

With the shell of the house exposed, it's easy to see the elevator and the shaft that was hidden. Before their eyes, thick roots explode out of the ground and wrench the metal of the smouldering elevator apart to expose the elevator shaft as Phaedra's dance ends with a flourish.

"The way is clear." She calmly informs them; as her skirts still settle around her legs and her beautifully wild hair falls around her shoulders and back like a cloak. She gathers her legs under her and leaps with the ease of a Gazelle the almost twenty feet to the remains of the elevator and nimbly climbs down the roots forming a natural ladder.

Angel laughs and follows her with a whoop, a stunned Aaron following at his heels as they plunge into the darkness after the spirited Queen. The darkness doesn't last long as the elevator shaft is suddenly lit by the arrival of seemingly hundreds of brightly glowing lightning bugs.

Several of the Gavriel; who don't have such keen sight in such darkness call out their thanks to the Elem for the light and they're all able to swiftly make their way down into the facility. There are pockets of fighting going on everywhere that he can see as soldiers and demons fight for their lives.

With a start Angel realizes that none of these Demons are the ones that were with Spike or Wes and he abruptly understands that these are the former prisoners that the Initiative has been holding and experimenting on. He's not seeing a fight for freedom here but one of revenge. These Demons have no intention of leaving the facility alive; or letting any soldiers live either. From the all-too-visible scars and the results of the unnecessary surgeries they've endured during their captivity as twisted mementos, he can see why some have chosen to die rather than live as twisted freaks.

"Get out, get out while you can! We'll help you; give you homes, lives again!" Angel calls out but he's ignored by the rioting Demons and for the humans it is already too late. He knows that.

Phaedra makes a low sound of pain and looks away. "There is nothing we could do for them but to let them die as free. The spark of their lives is growing dim; I can see that they are fading before my eyes. Give them their revenge. They will take nothing else of this place that matters to them; including their lives. Their time is limited." She grabs the small digital camera at her waist and with a solemn heart she turns back to the fighting and does her best to take pictures of every Demon.

The camera was a good idea on Rona part and has sadly been used too many times tonight. Each of the healers was given one and shown how to use it by Osanna in case their charges failed to be saved. The pictures would help them to bring peace to the families of the fallen by making sure the bodies of the fallen are identified and returned to the proper place to be given the rites of their varied people.

They'll use the pictures to see if they can find the families of the Demons that won't be leaving the Initiative so they can know that their lost ones died with honour.

Phaedra takes a last picture and slips the camera back into the large, soft, black leather bag slung crosswise and resting on her hip. She whispers a prayer for the Demons, asking the universe to cradle their spirits to whatever lies beyond for them.

"Leave them what dignity they have left in choosing to die Brother." Aaron quietly imparts as he urges him away and down the catwalk towards another corridor and in the direction that he can feel his Childe.

"Fred's hacking must have worked. When she brought down the facility's security grid the cages must have opened too and let them out." Angel surmises.

"That would explain why fewer men than we thought came out of the escape tunnel. The rest must have been trapped by the fighting down here." He pauses. "Or they were stupid enough to think they could regain control down here." Aaron agrees. "We need to make sure this access stays open."

Emmanuel, the Warlord of the Gavriel, signals to two of his warrior-brothers. "You will guard this exit." He announces. "Make sure that none of the soldiers escape this way. Their evil will go no further."

The pair nods as they draw long curved swords; that glow red hot in the low level emergency lighting; with two of their arms as long daggers appearing to sprout from their lower set of hands. They take up position on either side of the twisted remains of the elevator.

Angel turns to lead them down the corridor and freezes with a horrified cry that brings everyone else spinning around.

Spike is standing at the end of the corridor holding a bloody Sam cradled in his arms. Xander is carrying Buffy but she's awake and conscious but her leg is obviously broken as the cracked end of the bone is sticking out through her skin. Osanna has one arm around Wesley who is limping badly and is carrying a heavy canvas bag in the other.

Angel flinches at the look on their faces. All of them look worse for wear and by the looks of it nearly a dozen of the Demons assigned to their groups seem to be missing and presumably dead by the looks of the situation. He can see that several of the minions are dragging a body behind them but can't see any details from this angle.

Spike slowly sinks to his knees, tenderly laying Sam down on the floor. As her body rolls slowly out of his hold, the gaping wound in her throat and the blood staining the front of her shirt becomes a grisly testament to a plan gone horribly wrong. Phaedra cries out and rushes forward, reaching out to touch her with desperate hands but she doesn't connect.

Spike reaches out and catches Phaedra's hand and squeezes it firmly but gently. "There's nothing that you can do for her Phae. All we can do for her now is to take her home." He pulls the weeping Queen closer and presses a kiss to her temple. "I think that Wes has a sprained knee and possibly a cracked hip bone." He advises and releases Phaedra as she throws herself toward Wesley.

Aaron darts forward to take the heavy bag of computer towers from his Childe so that she can gently lower Wesley to the floor with care as Phaedra digs into her bag for her healer kit.

Angel moves forward slowly, approaching Spike tenderly, a tear slipping free as his Childe wraps an arm around his leg and leans heavily against him as he grieves. It hasn't escaped him that Spike didn't mention that Buffy was injured too and that worries him. "What happened down here, Will?"

Movement draws Angel's eye and he turns his head to see the minions dragging a hog-tied Riley Finn passed him and he flinches. One of the man's arms is missing but instead of blood and flesh he sees gears and diodes. His body looks like it has been through a shredder and Angel can see the glint of metal through torn patches of skin here or there. Despite that shock there is plenty of torn flesh and blood to betray that the soldier is at least partially human still as well. Emmanuel moves forward to meet the minions, drawing his sword with a merciless look in his eye.

Angel ignores the choked screaming and the smell of charred flesh as the Gavriel Lord ruthlessly seals Finn's wounds with the glowing hot blade of his sword. He could care less for that Bastard's pain when he has a dead Mother and a grieving Childe at his feet.

"William?" He asks again, sinking his hand into Spike's hair and stroking gently. The traumatized Vampire doesn't answer as he stares at his slain friend.

"It was Riley." Xander offers when Spike doesn't answer. "We didn't know he was there until it was too late. He was on Spike before we knew it. Sam hit him and hit him hard. Spike got away but Riley got Sam before she could get out of the way and held a knife to her throat. She wouldn't stop fighting him though and was really messing him up but he barely seemed to notice that she was hitting him. It was like he was a mannequin or something."

Spike finally stirs. "I told everyone to back away and tried to get Riley to take me instead but Sam started to fight him, not wanting me to take her place. She told me to ignore her and get Finn but I refused to do it if it was going to get her killed."

"So how did she... did that... happen to her? Finn killed her anyway?" Angel asks hesitantly. He's fully aware that Spike would have done almost anything to try and protect his friend and knows that whatever happened was out of his control.

"Buffy thought she had a clear shot at Riley and she didn't listen to Spike when he told her that it was dangerous. She thought she could make it." Xander drops his eyes. "She was wrong. She did manage to hit him but it wasn't enough. Sam tried to hit him and he just... did it. The knife was across her throat before any of us could stop him but she managed to do him a lot of damage even as she...." His voice trails off.

Angel glances over at the bound wreck of a man. "She did that to his arm?"

Xander looks up and he pales. "No, Sam didn't do that." He shudders visibly. "When he sliced Sam's throat Spike rushed him and tried to get her away from him even while she was clawing at him. He loosened Riley's hold enough for Wes and I to pull her away while he and Buffy fought Riley but there wasn't anything we could do for her. She wouldn't let any of the Demons near her but Spike... Osanna tried to help her too. Then... then she died. I think Spike knew it when she died because he cried out and turned around and looked at us and Riley just grabbed him."

"The Slayer just lost it. I've never seen anything like it before. She just went crazy and ripped the arm he had around Spike's waist clean off." Osanna recalls. "Spike got away from him but she didn't stop going after him. She didn't even notice when he broke her leg, she just seemed to ignore the pain and kept fighting. Spike finally had to pull her off him to stop her since we need him alive for the tribunal. Wes had to cast a pacification spell to keep her from ripping into the soldier again as soon as Spike tried to let her go."

"The Slayer got Sam killed?" Phaedra's normally serene personality is absent as she scowls darkly at the listless young woman.

"Finn killed her years ago." Spike says flatly. "It just took her this long to die."

Angel crouches and wraps his arm around Spike's shoulders and stands pulling him upward with him as he motions to a minion with his other hand.

"No, I'll carry her!" Spike exclaims as he sees the minion kneeling to gather up Sam. "I had hoped that she would find it in her heart to forgive the circumstances of her birth and love Nyla after all of this was behind us. How do I tell her Angel?" Spike kneels and lifts Sam easily, Angel thoughtfully bracing him.

"Sam died trying to protect you, I don't think that Nyla will think that her sacrifice was a vain one. We'll take her home and give her a hero's funeral and when she's old enough Nyla will know how special her Mother is, was. We'll all be there to tell her." Angel consoles him.

"Oh God, she has a daughter?" Xander cries out.

Spike doesn't bother to hide his tears as he nods. "She has a beautiful baby girl named Nyla." Spike deliberately reveals, knowing that Riley can't help but hear it.

From the muffled shouting and frantic rocking he has heard and figured out the truth.

Angel is the first to catch on to why Spike has revealed Nyla's existence even though all of them had agreed that it was better if no one knew of her existence and his mouth curves upward in a chillingly malevolent smile.

There is no trace of leniency on his face as he leaves Spike's side and uses a booted foot to pin the struggling soldier down like an insect in a collection. "Would you like to explain to the children how raping Samantha and forcing a pregnancy was part of your 'noble' Initiative's plans or shall I? Maybe you could tell them about having her vocal chords removed so she would stop screaming and ruin the mood when you let your buddies have their turn?" He hisses as his fangs drop as an instinctive reaction to the intoxicating scent of fear pouring off the man.

"You no doubt assumed that she'd miscarried when you saw her again but she didn't. Spike and I found her and we saved her life and the baby's too." Wesley catches on too and takes his own shot at stabbing at the man with his words.

"She's a beautiful little human but something more too. I sense remarkable depths in her." Phaedra offers with a chillingly impersonal voice but her hands on Wesley's leg are tender and careful. "She will be strong one day as her Mother was but she will not know the misery of growing up with you."

Angel grins approvingly. "No she will grow up with my Childe, who she loves as her own blood. WE will raise her, all of us, and she will never know the depravity of her conception." Angel kneels down, smiling as Riley isn't able to choke back the scream muffled by the gag the minions have tied too tightly around his head.

"She was bourn into Spike's hands, she trusts him, loves him as her Father as he's raised her. Sam saw only you in Nyla and couldn't bring herself to love her own daughter so she gave her to Spike. My Childe and I will raise our daughter together; her Aunts and Uncles beside us to help us. She will know the secrets humans have never known and she will walk between all the worlds as your Judge. We will teach her the way. You will be dead and every atom of your existence will be tracked down and purged from the world. There will be nothing to show that you ever existed at all. Nyla will never know your name, will never bear your name, or know you. She is Aurelius now, Princess of an Empire that will span dimensions." Angel cruelly imparts as he slowly stands and returns to Spike. "You will never set eyes on her and she will never know so much as your name. She will be raised among our kind and we will raise her to know her enemies regardless of what form they wear or what name they are called by." He promises.

"He will never set eyes on many things. Take him to the field with the others and let The Tribunal be convened." Emmanuel promises as he motions to the minions; Angel nodding his assent; to drag him out of their sight.

Riley struggles fiercely as the minions drag him roughly away towards the gaping edifice of the crooked elevator doors. He manages to catch the rough fabric of the gag they've shoved in his mouth on a screw partially ripped up from the metallic panels of the floor and it pulls free. "I have a daughter! Let me see my daughter! Please let me see her! She's human! You can't take her! Buffy, Xander, you can't let Demons keep my daughter! Buffy! Buff...ffff...yyyyy...!" He pleads as they drag him achingly over the damaged floor.

"You don't deserve to have a daughter you... you... Mother-Killer! You're an Orphan-making, Mother-killing, Rapist, Stalker, Torture Guy who is going to get what's coming to you Scumbag! I can't believe I ever though you were a friend! And you suck at pool too!" Xander exclaims looking furious and embarrassed that he was ever fooled by Riley.

"She'd see you only to watch you die." Spike calmly responds. "Of course it's not that my daughter would know who you are anyway."

"Take that offal out of here." Emmanuel calls over and one of the Gavriel guarding the elevator shaft grabs him and easily holds him with his upper set of arms despite his struggles and hoists him up and climbs up out of the shaft. The Minions climb up after and follow them out.

"What the hell is he? His arm...?" Angel asks when he can no longer hear Finn's shouting and knows that he's well beyond hearing them as well.

"We made an assumption and it came back and bit us in the ass." Spike snaps. "That freak didn't want to take Finn to make him into another one of his clockwork monstrosities. He wanted him to see how the monster that ran this place managed to make Finn look so damn normal when his toys looked like rejects from a horror movie. He wanted Finn to see what he was doing wrong. We found the good Doctor on our way in as well."

"What was left of her anyway?" Xander shudders visibly. "It was the stuff of gruesome."

"It looks like her pet Frankenstein had some objections to being tinkered with." Spike adds. "I didn't see much point in having the body taken out of here. She's definitely dead judging by the rot that's set in so let her burn with this place."

"May I suggest that I be taken to view the body? I will gladly stand before all the Council and affirm her death for the official record." Emmanuel offers. "There is no one foolish enough to question the word of William but the formalities will ensure that even the foolish will not consider raising any question of his actions in choosing this course."

"I can show you where the body is." Osanna offers, motioning Rona over to take her place supporting Wes as Phaedra heals his broken leg.

The pair departs with a small guard of Gavriel and Angel motions everyone to group together closer to the only remaining access to the surface from their area. He can hear the sound of voices drifting down the elevator shaft and he knows that several of their comrades must have remained above to watch for them and help if necessary.

"We should get Sam and Wes out of here." Angel suggests looking around them at the devastation set to the sounds of men and demons dying in the lower levels.

"We need to get Buffy out of here too. I don't think that her leg has started to heal at all. She needs to be looked at too." Xander adds. He doesn't look at Phaedra; knowing that the Hamadryad isn't going to be overly inclined to help Buffy in the light of the night's events and he can't blame her. Privately he knows that Buffy's rash actions contributed to Sam's death despite Spike's grudgingly given explanation excusing her.

If it had been Willow that had been killed instead of Sam he wouldn't be holding Buffy now or have anything to do with her again. These people have lost a good friend, almost a Sister to some of them, and he can't fault them for holding Buffy accountable for Sam's death.

"We should all leave as soon as Emmanuel and Osanna return. I can feel the earth trembling below us. The Aristae are growing impatient. They will move soon." Phaedra advises all of them with a solemn expression.

"Can Wes travel?" Angel asks Phaedra as she rises, helping Rona to lift Wes to his feet.

"The healing is only partial, he will only be able to stand on his own for a short time, but he can be moved safely." The regal Queen provides.

"We can easily carry The Steward and the Fallen." Several of the Gavriel offer; having remained behind with them when Emmanuel left with the others. "It would be our privilege to serve you Masters."

Spike looks up, torn by the choice and finally nods his agreement. "If the Aristae do move, it will happen quickly and we should start moving back up and away from here. The more of us left down here, the longer it will take us all to get out."

One of the Gavriel Elders moves forward and extends a set of his arms and gathers Sam's body to him carefully. "I will be her escort of honour Milord William. I am Tavarri, Lord of the High Mountain Hall."

"Thank you Elder Tavarri. I entrust my Sister Samantha of Aurelius to your care." Spike waits until Tavarri has Sam securely and he bows low in respect.

Another of the Gavriel steps forward and stops before Wesley. "I am Nuza of Alexandria Steward and I shall bear you gladly if it be your will."

Wes nods; knowing that his pride is no excuse for putting everyone in danger and limps into the proffered arms and lets the Warrior gather him up securely. "It is my will Nuza, thank you. I'm afraid that the Slayer will have to be taken as well. It is my proximity that is maintaining the spell keeping her passive. If we're too far apart she may overcome it."

Two of the Gavriel move forward and reach for the Slayer.

"Hold on." Phaedra states and strides forward; digging into the bag hanging against her hip. There's a long coil of what looks like some type of vine in her hand as it pulls out of the bag. It takes her only seconds to wind the green vine around Buffy. A quietly murmured incantation and seconds later the vine rope tightens itself around the Slayer securely. "The vine is made from the Steelweed that grows in the forest of our homeland. It will even hold a Slayer until I release her; just a little insurance."

"Thank you Milady." The Gavriel offer in unison as the tallest of the pair helps his shorter companion to arrange the Slayer comfortably on his back before using their belts to secure her in place there. "Should we take her to the Healers?"

Phaedra pauses noticeably but finally nods. "Make sure that the bonds are left in place until I say otherwise but they can manage her pain. I want her secured until we're sure that she's under control."

"What about her leg? If she starts to heal she could be crippled." Xander worries.

Phaedra sighs and makes sure that her tone carries no trace of the anger she feels for the Slayer is going to spill over to the earnest young man. "I have dealt with Slayers in times past young human. They have a minor physiological failsafe that will retard her healing until the bone is set. I can see that the bone ends are separated and as long as they're not touching she can wait." She manufactures on the fly, not wanting to explain that a lot of her knowledge has come from the extensive tests she and Wes have run on William.

Xander nods, looking relieved but the happy expression doesn't last for that long.

"I want you out of here too Xander." Angel orders; nodding his head towards the elevator.

"I'm in this now Pal and I leave when you leave! I'm owed that much." Xander refuses.

"You're owed what I say you're owed. Get him out of here." Angel growls.

"Let the boy stay Angelus." Spike steps closer to his Sire and quietly interjects in a low tone that carries no further than the pair of them. "It's not our fault what's happened in this bloody hole of a town but his life has been turned upside and shredded. He's lost his Father Figure, his girlfriend, his best friends, and his innocence all in a single week. Let him keep the illusion that his life hasn't been swallowed whole and spit back out half digested by this fucked up mess a little longer. He needs to believe that he can control something even if it's his fear."

Angel nods and calms down and waves off the Minions that had moved to grab Xander's arms and obey his command. "Leave him for now; he can stay."

"Thank you Angel." Xander says, scuttling over to stand beside Spike. He's not foolish and he understands that Spike has interceded with his Sire on his behalf and he's grateful.

"Stay close Pet. We're going to need to move quickly when the time comes and I don't want to have to go looking for you." Spike warns Xander.

"I gotcha Spike, sit, stay; got it." Xander promises. He wonders why he finds the company of the blond Vampire comforting when every other Vampire including Angel evokes a much more vicious emotion in him.

"Milords, something is happening below." The Gavriel beside the elevator calls out. From his vantage point he has almost a clear field of view to the lower level beyond the railing.

Spike growls and rushes forward and curses his distraction. He can smell the growing scent of sulphur in the still air and his internal cursing explodes outward. "Fuck; it's the Aristae. They're on the move. How long do we have Phae?"

Phaedra closes her eyes and extends her senses far beyond her body. Her brow furrows with effort; the metal and manmade construction surrounding them is distorting her natural perception and makes it more difficult for her to take an accurate assessment. "They're moving quickly, perhaps ten or fifteen minutes at the most. It's difficult to be sure with all this metal and unnatural materials and we shouldn't take any chances."

Spike nods tersely and reaches up to depress the transmitter on his radio. "Osanna, the Aristae are moving; ten minutes; you need to hurry back." He warns and releases the button.

"We've seen her body and we're on our way back Will. Five minutes no more." Osanna advises through the radio.

"Understood but get that cute ass into overdrive." Spike responds with only half of his attention on the conversation and the other half on the lower level. He releases the transmitter button and his thumb drifts to the safety on his gun and trips it silently. "Xander, you don't watch this part." He advises and slowly lifts his gun and readies himself.

"What are you doing Spike?" Angel and Xander ask together in equally alarmed tones.

Phaedra understands at a glance and gently forces Angel and Xander away from the railing and back towards the wall. "The Aristae are coming now. The ones left down there won't have time to get up here, the stairs are gone. William is offering them... mercy... from what is coming for them." She tells them sombrely. "The fires of the Aristae are powerful indeed but agony for most others. Their end will be quick but painful, there is another way."

Spike leans over the railing to call. "Brothers and Sisters, the Aristae are coming to claim vengeance for their dead! Those who are going to leave must go now! Everything will be consumed in their fire; this is your last chance to choose survival! We will help you!"

Angel's heart breaks as Spike's shoulders slump in defeat and he knows that none of the Demons are choosing to live with the memory and physical reminder of what the Initiative has done to them and have again chosen death. He watches as Spike accepts their choice and stands up taller and lifts his gun again.

"I am William of Aurelius and I offer you the only mercy left to give you." Spike calls down.

The first shot makes Xander pale and shake and Phaedra pulls him closer and wraps her arms around his shoulders as he covers his ears and buries his face against her shoulder.

The echoes of the deadly accurate shots are almost deafening despite the utter silence that follows their end. Spike slowly lowers his gun and solemnly engages the safety and secures it back in its specially built harness.

Angel moves forward, his hands trembling as they lift to rub comfortingly along Spike's tense back muscles. "You let them die with dignity Childe."

"He did far more than that Milord." The Gavriel by the elevator states proudly. "He let them die at the hands of one of our kind's legends. Even in choosing death, they are honoured. Their families will remember them as heroes. This place may be their grave but it will never be their tomb. Their spirits are free and may Gaea embrace them to her mercy."

All of the Gavriel still with them echo the ancient benediction and tap their chests with their closed fists in unison.

Emmanuel and Osanna explode into the room and look around wildly, their Gavriel escort arrive panting behind them and looking harried.

"Who is shooting?" Osanna cries trying to find the source of the trouble.

Aaron walks over, easily carrying the heavy bag of computer hard drives with him and pulls her against his side with an arm around her waist. "William was showing us that the quality of mercy can be not so merciful for the one that offers it. He did his duty and now we must do ours."

"That is agreed. Everyone, get out of here and back to the surface." Angel snaps and starts to physically herd everyone around him towards the elevator shaft. "Xander get over here!"

Phaedra all but shoves the young man over to Angel and Spike and streaks for the tree roots, easily scaling them with the grace of a monkey.

"Hey, let go!" Is all that Xander has time to shout as Angel lifts him up bodily and Spike presses back to sandwich him between them.

"Shut up and grab on to Spike's vest and for Hell's sake hold on tight!" Angel growls and Xander scrambles to do it before he has time to think about it and then he's gone up the elevator shaft with a startled shout.

Spike's strong legs easily make the top in four powerful leaps despite Xander's dead weight on his back. He jogs away from the shaft with the shell-shocked young man still clinging desperately to his back.

It takes less than a minute for the last of them to clear the rubble of the former fraternity house and make it to a safe distance. They gravitate together under the shelter of a venerable Oak Tree and watch. In only a few minutes the first curls of thick smoke begin to billow out of the gaping elevator doors. Less than a minute later even Xander's far weaker human eyesight can see that the ground is buckling. The agitated and exhausted fire-fighters wisely pull back, several of the Human-looking Demons working together to herd them well away.

Angel can hear one of the scholarly-looking Elem offering them the suggestion that the disaster at the school and the horrible fire earlier may point to a new fault running under the town. The excuse will give them the plausible denial that they need to keep living in this accursed town. He briefly considers asking Phaedra to ask the Aristae to stay. Maybe then people will wise up and get the hell out of this town if there's the threat of it burning out from under them.

He turns to ask Spike a question and stares as the words are stolen by his laughter. His Childe is still carrying the larger built Xander like a backpack and the incongruous image is enough to tickle his often neglected funny bone. "I think you can let go now Xander."

Xander blushes madly and scrambles down from his perch on Spike's back. It's not an overly graceful dismount when his boots briefly get snarled together as he tries to untangle them from their stranglehold around Spike's waist. He laughs self-consciously as Angel lends a hand and lifts him off of Spike; as easily as a little boy picks up a stuffed animal; and sets him down on his feet. He'll never get used to the oh-so-casual displays of strength he's been witness to since this started and the Demons returned to their town.

Phaedra returns from a quiet consultation with her fellow Elem looking relieved. "The Aristae are keeping their word. So far they're containing their actions to the facility and its immediate environs. They've made no attempt to take any of the surrounding area but the Earth Mages are worried that the ground will be disturbed for possibly months. This entire area may be dangerously unstable until the ground is completely reset."

"It won't be difficult to arrange for the right bugs to find the right ears and arrange for some geologists to corroborate that fact and the town can take care of itself from there." Angel decides after thinking it over.

"We've got some of the city officials on our payroll already." Spike provides. "They may as well earn their bribes this time. We'll pass on the message and let them deal with it. We've done what we came here to do. I want to go home. We have dead to mourn."

Xander watches as the remains of the building slowly falls in on itself as its foundation liquefies below it and it tumbles in on itself under its own weight. He can't help but make unfavourable comparisons to his own life.

"Nothing is ever going to be the same is it?" He asks out loud to no one in particular.

"Would you really want it to be?" Wesley asks from his secure perch between two of the Gavriel; who are thoughtfully supporting most of his weight and giving his leg time to heal. "if we were all happy in our lives, we'd never go anywhere, see anything, grow...."

"Do you think Anya will come back?" Xander asks.

"I don't really know Anyanka that well...." Wes refutes. "I couldn't honestly say...." His tone doesn't ring quite true and Xander can hear it in his voice.

Xander asks the one person that is going to tell him the truth no matter if it hurts him to hear it. "Spike, is Anya going to come back?"

"Are you asking me if she's going to come back to the Hellmouth?" Spike asks insightfully. "Or if she's going to come back to you?" He adds bluntly.

"If she comes back to Sunnydale than I have a chance to earn her trust back so it's both the same isn't it?" Xander asks naively.

Spike stifles the chuckle of amusement that wants to bubble up at the verbal confirmation of just how inexperienced with relationships Xander is. "It's not really the same thing at all; though they are related in some ways. As you say, if she comes back to town she may give you another chance but without a reason to come back to town...? I don't think she's going to come back until you can give her a reason to come back for." He answers honestly.

Xander looks crestfallen. "I don't know how to give her a reason to come back when I keep thinking up more excuses to leave myself." Xander admits.

"Than maybe you're not asking the right question." Spike points out logically. "Instead of wondering if Anya is going to come back to you, why don't you ask yourself what you're staying here for? What's more important to you?"

"I'm helping Buffy to help people. I may not have a 'destiny' and everything but I can help...." Xander starts to explain.

"There isn't a Hellmouth here any longer Xander." Wesley's voice is soft but what he reveals lands like a sledgehammer on Xander's head. "It may have been a plan of desperation but the results will be the same. The Aristae have changed everything. The earth underneath the town will have changed drastically in configuration and it will no longer function as a gateway. One of the other Hellmouths will become the active one of choice."

"Cleveland," Spike, Aaron, Emmanuel, and Angel all announce in unison. "It will be Cleveland." They all announce again and chuckle at the unintentional showiness.

Wes nods. "It will mostly likely be the Cleveland event." He agrees. "The next closest aperture is to the one that is closed usually becomes the next active one; due to the rush of redirected energy from the closed one rushing to the nearest portal conjunction I expect."

Xander is shocked by that. "Sunnydale is a small town compared to Cleveland. I can see why so few people know the truth about Demons existing but how can it avoid being revealed since Cleveland is so much larger. Won't everyone know Demons are real?"

"It's Cleveland." Spike repeats in a disgusted tone. "Visit for a week and you've seen everything worth seeing. They may welcome the Demons just for a change of pace."

"There may be one or two Demons able to get through here but by in large this Hellmouth will be impassable for the majority of Demon-kind. Your Slayer will likely be reassigned." Wes points out.

"The Council will surround her with an army of Watchers as well. Until they can figure out what happened to their Slayer line, she is the only one that they have. They'll take steps to guard her as best they can." Aaron adds.

"Where does that leave me?" Xander asks, looking sad and a little frightened about his prospects for the future. He's given so much of his life away working with Buffy and he's not sure how much he's left over for himself.

"It leaves you with a life and choices to make." Spike informs him. "We've offered you some help getting a job and a place to live and that offer stands whether it's here or somewhere else. I can promise you one thing from my short association with your Anya. She's not going to come back to a man that isn't going to put her first in his life. If you can't do that right now, if your friends are still more important, maybe you need some time to figure out who the hell you are first. Slayers are chosen, they're never given the option to be anything but what they are. It doesn't have to be that way for you. If you have to be a hero, there are other ways."

"I've always thought Firemen were incredibly cute." Osanna offers, eying up several of the more attractive specimens on hand.

"You could be a Policeman." Aaron offers. "Erick and I were both Constables when we were human."

Osanna shrugs. "I was a computer programmer."

"I was just a spoiled Merchant's son." Angel admits looking ashamed.

"Or you could be a Doctor." Wes chimes in.

"You could be a husband and a Father worth the name; unlike the example you grew up with." Spike's suggestion is quietly voiced but possibly the most powerful. "Heroes come in a lot of different disguises but I've been around long enough to know that everyone is someone's hero and may just not know it. There's no day but today, make your choices and take the results as they happen and deal with them. Tomorrow will take care of itself."

Angel smiles and wraps his arm around Spike's shoulders and squeezes lightly. "That was almost poetic William." He teases.

Spike smiles sweetly and jams his elbow viciously into Angel's side, the grin never wavering. "We'll help you do whatever it is you want to do so don't worry about the money."

Xander looks tempted. "I can't leave Joyce here alone, or Willow."

"I don't think that you should count on your Willow. She has a lot of her own issues to deal with. There's a coven in England that the Council has long had dealings with; they've got your friend with them. They'll teach her to control her magic rather than letting it control her but until then Phaedra and I have bound it. If she refuses to learn, it will stay bound too. She's too dangerous without the training." Wes confides.

"As for Joyce, she has been considering an offer to take on a partnership in an art gallery in another town about an hour from here. If her daughter is moved by the Council, it's fairly safe to assume that she's going to accept the offer and move away." Phaedra reveals. "We will of course encourage her to move as this place will likely be the focus of some unwelcome attention from the humans' government. She will be better off away from here."

Xander has a nagging suspicion. "So this town that she may move to...? It's near to where you live so you can make sure she's looked after."

Spike's lip curls up in a half smile and he nods once. "It is close enough to us that we can help her but far enough away from here that it is quiet and more peaceful."

"So do they have any construction jobs there?" Xander asks nervously, afraid that they may reject him.

"There are half a dozen housing developments going up in Hesperia so I'm sure there's room for another worker. Go home and get your things." Angel orders, giving Xander a gentle bump in the small of his back.

Xander is surprised by the abrupt welcome. "We're leaving tonight?!"

"I'm sure that the Council will be on the move soon. I'd rather none of us were here to greet them." Angel decides. "Go get your things. We'll make room for you at the house with us."

"What about Buffy; what happens to her?" Xander asks.

"I had her taken to the hospital. Aaron is right Xander, the Council won't hurt her. They'll do everything they can to look after her." Wes promises.

"What about that spell Giles was worried about? He said they might try to steal her powers or something or hurt her in another way." Xander worries.

Wes is startled that Giles obviously came to the same conclusions that he had. "Phaedra has made sure that any spells cast on her won't work if they intend her any harm. The spell needs to be renewed every full moon but the Elem can easily send one of their mages to slip in and do it as needed. The Council has no magic that can hold them at bay."

"We have a vested interest in keeping an eye on the Council's doings. If Buffy is in danger we'll know about it and help her out Xander." Angel swears.

"If they can cast the spell... can you?" Xander asks surprising everyone.

Wes is startled. "Yes, it's a spell well within our range." He admits.

"Then I think that you should." Xander shocks them all again by suggesting. "Buffy has pissed off the Council before and she'll do it again and they'll hurt her for it. If someone else were to be the Slayer they'd leave her alone right? It sucks to throw someone else to them like a bone but at least they won't hate the next one and they may fair better?"

Wes looks at Spike and Angel and by silent agreement they move off some distance from the others to talk privately.

"Can you do that Wes?" Angel asks curiously. "Would you do that?"

"Could I; yes. Would I; I don't know?" Wes honestly replies looking torn by indecision. "He's right about what he said. Miss Summers has a terrible reputation with the Council."

"Can you cast the spell and contain the energy you draw off and infuse it into another girl later on? Or does the new host have to be physically present at the time you cast it?" Spike asks.

"It would be better if the host were present but there is a special kind of crystal grown by the elves in Phaedra's realm. They have unique properties that allow them to gather and hold energy. In theory it could hold the energy from Miss Summers." Wes answers after some thought.

"Can you cast the spell and use the crystal to contain the energy indefinitely?" Spike asks.

Wesley's brow furrows with heavy thoughts. "A Slayer holds tremendous energy. I'm not sure the crystal could contain it indefinitely. The stress could cause it to fracture."

"What would the result be if that happened?" Angel wonders out loud.

"One of two results would be the most likely. One; it would return to the source, the Slayer." Wesley's eyes flicker towards Spike and swiftly away before he can give anything away if they're being observed. "The second would be that it would find the person it was taken from and rejoin their physical form again; like a Homing Pigeon finding home. If we can find a way to separate the energy into separate holding vessels we may be able to contain the energy on a longer basis."

Spike slowly grins. "We don't need anyone to take the Slayer's place. We just have to make the Council think that someone else has." He nods towards the distance where the remains of the Initiative were. "They'll never be able to prove who was down there or recover the bodies."

Wes starts to grin as he follows Spike's thought processes. "So we get one of those crystals and we cast the spell on Miss Summers and tell them that she died down there. They'll try and cast a divination spell to see if another Slayer has been called but they won't find anyone."

"They'll believe that she's dead." Angel realizes. "We can make them think that Giles was down there too."

Wesley nods. "They'll simply assume that her mantle has passed to the Slayer that they can't find. They'll leave her alone; she won't have anything that they want any longer. We can certainly arrange for new identities easily enough."

"So what are you suggesting as a plan Spike?" Angel questions.

"We cast the spell and make them think that her power has passed to another and let them run themselves to death trying to find someone that isn't there. We'll do what we can to help her get healthy, straighten out the mess in her head; like we're doing with Giles hopefully; and then we give them the chance that they haven't had before. We let them choose. If they want to take up the responsibility again then Wes returns the energy to the Slayer and we set them up somewhere in the world. There are a lot of places that they can go that the Council will never look for them." Spike announces. "If she wants a normal life then I have another idea to stick it to those ruddy Council Bastards once and for all."

Wesley looks intrigued. "What idea would that be?"

"The Council maintains a list of young women that they've identified as potentials and we can get our hands on a copy of it. We could spread the energy among a large number of them; thin it to the point that reclaiming it would be pointless." Spike's smile is sly and devious and Angel shivers with the sudden need to jump his Childe.

Angel pulls Spike to him and wraps his arms around him tightly but his mouth is gentle when it alights in a soft nibbling kiss. "Thank you William." Life is too uncertain to pass up a good chance to seize what you need.

They're snapped out of their reverie when Wes claps his hands loudly. "It sounds like we have a plan. Let's get moving on it. I really hate this place." Wes starts back to join the others and doesn't notice that Angel and Spike haven't moved.

"Is this the end of it Spike?" Angel nuzzles Spike's hair with his nose, feeling like he could get light-headed on the spicy and faintly sweet scent of his skin.

"It didn't end when the Nazis tried it and it hasn't ended here. It never ends anywhere but we've slowed the Bastards down." Spike swears. "Now we wait and see who was pulling the strings in this puppet show."

"You don't think that it was the Professor; what's her name?" Angel asks.

"Wesley and I have been hunting the Initiative for years and we've found traces of literally millions of dollars being funnelled into their operation. Nothing I saw down there would justify that much money. This was an important branch of their operation but I don't think that this was the heart of this snake pit. There's a King Snake still out there somewhere but this is going to hurt them and their money resources are going to dry up. No one wants to back a failure."

"So how do we find the big snake that is making all of the little ones?" Angel asks as he clings to his Childe.

"We don't have to find him. He'll find us." Spike turns his head until his face is pressed against Angel's chest and the world around him is shut out.

"Why will he find us? He doesn't know about us, not specifically." Angel asks confused and worried about the slight tremors he can feel shaking through Spike's muscles.

"I think that they; whoever 'they' are; have always known about us; about Demons and that this operation wasn't about stopping 'us' but finding out how we'd handle a serious human-based threat. I can't shake the feeling that this was a maze and we're the rats."

"They can keep their cheese. Emmanuel can take over here, our job is done. I vote we go with Wesley's plan and go home." Angel decides guiding Spike back to the others. "I want you to know how proud I am of you Spike. You have no reason to help Buffy or her friends but you are."

"The boy isn't so bad once the urge to strangle him passes." Spike admits. "He was useful, the Slayer not so much but I hate the Watchers Council more than I hate her."

"Why did Buffy do what she did?" Angel wonders, speaking his thoughts aloud.

Spike doesn't answer; not wanting to talk about her. He just wants to go home and enjoy having his Sire back in his life for a while. All too soon another Hunter's moon is going to rise and he has a feeling that the glow of that full moon is going to herald a war beyond any other in history. They haven't stopped the war only delayed it and changed the field it will take place on. When the time comes the hunters of the Aurelius Order will be ready he vows and lets Angel lead him away. He agrees with the others; he wants to get the hell out of this town too.

Epilogue

One of the communication technicians hands the Colonel a sheet of paper from the terminal that has just finished printing it out. "I have a decoded communiqué from the Board for you Colonel Starck. They are demanding an immediate accounting of the Doctor's work to date as you suspected."

The neatly starched and pressed Soldier takes the printout and reads it quickly. "Very well transmit the records they are requesting immediately."

The young woman looks nervous. "I'm sorry Colonel but the Doctor has coded his personal entries and they are requesting a complete accounting; including all personal logs."

The Colonel blanches but he motions the technician aside and she obligingly looks away as he uses the keyboard to enter a sequence of command codes. "That will override the encryption sequence temporarily. Decrypt the information and transmit as ordered Sergeant. I'll have to inform Doctor Gerhard of the events in Sunnydale." The Colonel leaves the young woman to her orders and travels deeper into the heart of the Juno Facility.

His shivering has less to do with the ten foot snow drifts piled around the base; than it does with having to visit the creepy scientist that he's been assigned to oversee.

It takes him nearly half an hour to reach the deep-seated lab and through the layers of security that protect it and there is still a final hurdle to clear as the heavy door slowly slide open.

"I am sorry to bother you Doctor Gerhard but we've received a very troubling report from our Sunnydale facility." It takes an act of will for the soldier to ignore the lumbering hulk of a form that towers well over his own respectable six and a half feet as the door opens.

He's never heard the mountain of muscle that is masquerading as a man referred to by name, the behemoth silently moving about by some unheard cue from the Doctor as it steps aside and lets him enter.

A second slender form; though no more talkative; moves about the lab silently writing laborious and copious notes on an overfull clipboard as she moves from station to station recording the results of tests he couldn't begin to understand. He's heard the Doctor call her Lisel but his one and only attempt to speak to her yielded only the painful result of having his shoulder broken by a single blow from the mountain of muscle that clearly objected. He's never repeated that mistake and now does his best to ignore the Doctor's 'assistants'.

An older man with a deeply cragged face and a full bushy moustache looks up from the microscope he's working at with an aggrieved sigh. "Very well Colonel, report."

"The entire facility has been lost Sir. Agents were dispatched immediately when the network signal from the base was terminated. The entire facility was destroyed and entry was impossible due to an apparent seismic disturbance that has led to the town being labelled a new fault zone. A search of the town and neighbouring districts failed to turn up so much as a single operative from the facility and it's believed that the accident must have been so sudden that no one survived it." The Soldier pauses momentarily. "I'm sorry Sir but there is no evidence that your wife survived the destruction of the Sunnydale installation."

"Maggie was a fool to believe that her Janus hypothesis was the correct course of action to take and the misguided cretins that funded her project deserve to fail." The older man calmly replies; showing no outward sign that he is upset by the death of Margaret Walsh in the least. "What are the chances of recovering data?"

"I'm sorry Sir but the technicians have been trying to restore what data was retrieved by the network prior to the accident but they have been unsuccessful in their efforts. What bits were in the process of being transmitted have likely been scrambled beyond any ability to untangle the data stream. There is less than a one to three percent chance of retrieving anything useful. I've ordered them to cease working on it. It's not cost effective for the effort when we're unlikely to get anything useful from it but scattered and unrelated data."

"I trust that you have accessed the communication net and searched for the deep tissue locator implants that my pet projects have been fitted with."

"That's affirmative Doctor and we've had no hits; they're all dead Sir. The Board has ordered an immediate review of the whole project in light of the extensive losses. They've requisitioned everything we've got to date including our personnel logs and operational data."

"Is there any good news Colonel or have you interrupted my experiments for no good reason? If everything is a loss, this could have waited for later."

"We had received several recent neural maps of some key personnel prior to losing contact with the base; including one for Professor Walsh that is intact Doctor. Shall I order the medical unit to carry out the standard procedure?"

"How many imprints were received and are viable?"

"Less than a dozen Sir but several of your prototypes were among the number we received; including Agents Finn and Gates."

"Order the Doctors to follow the standard program for the clones and neural overlay but only for the prototypes. Have the system flushed of the other samples and templates. Our work is too important to waste resources on inferior results. When Agents Finn and Gates are restored bring them to me directly. I have a new protein regime to test on them. You may go."

The Officer is startled by the abrupt dismissal but salutes and leaves as he's been ordered glad to be away from the heavily shielded lab and its occupants.

"It would seem that my Soldier formulae aren't as effective as I had hoped Wolfram, Liselotte; we'll have to begin anew. Prepare for a new series of tissue samples using Agent Gates; his series is an obvious failure so we'll have lost nothing. We'll use Finn as the test subject for the protein series but we'll need more test subjects for the human trials. I believe the toxicity factor may be too great to allow unaltered human body to metabolize it effectively."

"Yes, Josef; I'll see to it immediately. What do you wish to do with the current samples on file for Agent Gates?"

"Keep them for the time being Lisel. I will study them and perhaps I will see where we've erred in their genetic alterations. This is most disheartening; I had high hopes for the successful integration of this series. Have the remaining subjects from the series terminated immediately."

"Understood, Herr Josef, I will have the order drafted immediately. What about the remains; standard autopsy procedure or do you wish to alter the program?" The slender woman asks as she makes notes on her clipboard.

"We will learn all we need from Gates so suspend the autopsy order. Have the bodies prepared in the usual fashion and sent to the Demon holding facility and thrown in to the carnivores. Monitor their reactions carefully for adverse effects from their meals and record any physiological abnormalities that arise for further study. Maybe their deaths will further our studies more than their living has to date. You are dismissed for the evening; leave me to my work in peace. The answer to creating the true Master Race is locked somewhere in these results and I will find the secret and we will be unstoppable."

"As you wish; good evening Doctor. Come Wolfram, we shall leave Herr Doctor to his work. Your body is beginning to degrade; you must eat Josef. Shall I have the Steward deliver your meal at the usual time?"

The older man looks up with a salacious gleam in his eye. "Yes, but make sure that they've chosen a feisty one this time. The last one died before I'd taken scarcely taken a few bites and it ruined my enjoyment of the meal. Such weakness can barely be tolerated."

"Yes, Doctor. I will choose your meal personally." Lisel promises in an emotionless monotone. "One of the new arrivals perhaps; the new recruits were an interesting group."

"I leave it to your judgement Lisel." The Doctor waves them from his presence and returns to his work, scratching absently at the flaking patch of greyish green skin festering on his forearm. Being a zombie has its downside.

Translations

**Please note that I cannot be one hundred percent positive about these translations or the exact usage and sentence structure as they were provided by a third party resource. I do thank Bee for finding these for me and apologize for any improper usage. If anyone out there is fluent in Gaelic; and wouldn't mind the occasional translation please contact me at my email address. **

M' buachaill: My Boy (Irish Gaelic)

Céadsearc: Sweetheart (Irish Gaelic)

Ceangal mé M' leannán. Le do thoil: Join me, Lover. Please. (Irish Gaelic)