Prologue

The Seattle weather is obliging and the thick layer of clouds keeps even a hint of sunlight from showing through. There will be no sun today and even as the hands of his watch inch towards dawn the first few flurries begin to fall. His silent vigil continues until the powerful jet finally taxis to its runway and with an explosive burst of speed, soars heavenward.

He tracks the jet's path until it is beyond even his keen eyesight and he looks over his shoulder at the silent pair that has been watching his back for over three hours. As he turns away from the chain link fence their arms are there to pull him against warm bodies and welcome him with affectionate sweeps of their hands.

"So that is who you left LA to get away from?" Gabriel asks after a moment.

"Maybe I left LA so he'd find me." Spike replies quietly, happy at the center of the warm blanket of bodies.

"Who was he?" Deacon asks, a little jealous of Spike's obvious fascination with a man other than himself or Gabriel. While their relationship isn't sexual any longer part of him will always yearn for the charismatic Master Vampire that introduced him to Gabriel and showed them the pleasures to be found in each other's bodies. Without him he'd have been trapped in his illusion of heterosexuality and the joy that Gabriel brings to his life would have never happened.

"Angelus, though he prefers to hide behind the name Angel these days." Spike reluctantly wiggles out from between the pair as he leans against the bumper of the truck and fishes a cigarette case and a lighter out of his coat pocket. His hand is shaking faintly as he lights the hand-rolled cigarette and takes a fortifying inhalation, blowing out the sweet clover scented smoke on a relieved sigh.

"That was your Sire?!" Gabriel exclaims in shock. For some reason he would have expected a more extreme reaction to seeing his Sire of all people but instead Spike looks calm and resigned.

"What; you mean that was your DAD?!" Deacon exclaims.

Spike stares wordlessly for a few seconds and then bends over shaking with laughter. "No... no, he's not my Dad." He wheezes through his laughter. He straightens after he recovers from his wild laughter. "Angelus is the Elder of the Aurelius Order, the Clan of sorts that I belong to; so that means technically that all Vampires of that lineage are his subjects. However Angelus is the Sire of my Sire Drusilla and that means he was the one that created her and she in turn created me. Under Vampiric tradition a Sire is responsible for all that their Childer do, so when Dru created me, I became one of his Childer as well but he's my Grand-sire if one has to get technical with the details. He was however more involved in my 'upbringing' than many Grand-sires because Dru was really incapable of caring for herself much less any Childer she created. Angelus forbad her to make any after me when he'd found out what she'd done and reared me in her place but he wasn't about to do that again. It's a lot of work to rear a Childe and he was impatient on his best days with the responsibility."

"So he what, raised you?" Deacon asks confused. He knows that their shared demonic heritage is a tie between Gabriel and Spike that will elude him but he tries his best to learn what he can about the two most important men in his life. They're the closest thing he has to a family given his own less than picture perfect childhood. Spike starts to explain but slowly his voice softens as though travelling a great distance as his mind drifts into his own circumstances.

The son of a disillusioned ex-professor and a spoiled socialite had little contact with his parents prior to their deaths when he was barely in his teens. His home life was stable only to the succession of kind-hearted nannies employed to care for him. In a way he was lucky that his parents left him well-provided for so he could stay at the exclusive boy's school that sheltered him to adulthood. He had no contact with his parents' relatives both having long disowned both of his parents for their sins both real and imagined. How strange that he should have learned so much about life, love, and family from two Demons and the unusual family they've forged out of adversity.

He's heard all the stories from Gabriel so he knows the pair has been through a lot together, only some of which he can understand. Spike was there for Gabriel when his marriage slowly disintegrated and the pain of facing the fact that his daughter belonged with her Mother. It was a difficult time for Gabriel but Spike's friendship and support helped him through it. He rarely sees his half-Vengeance Demon daughter as she lives with his ex-wife in Arash Ma'har. Time being the fickle god that it can be, though only two and a half years has passed for them, well over fourteen have passed there and his daughter is well into her teenage years. Spike was also there to help Gabriel embrace his Demon side even as he helped Spike to embrace his humanity. They're extraordinary these best friends of his and he's lucky to know them.

They were both there for him when he decided to turn his back on the profitable corporate life he'd been living and realise his dream of being a Fireman. The transition wasn't an easy one but here he is one of the youngest station captains in the city. He's learned to train his body and his mind to its utmost potential and he is a formidable example of physical ability, both benign and aggressively as the occasion warrants. He is the lover of one Hunter and shares the mutual friendship of another, it's important to him that he learns enough about their world to live in it. Because he's positive that he can't live without them now.

"...So I ended up at that scenic overlook outside Port Townsend and Gabriel came along and stopped to see if I was alright. I stayed... and the rest you know." Spike's voice trails off.

 Deacon grimaces briefly realising that he wasn't paying attention. He supposes it'd be poor manners to make Spike repeat it but he thinks that he understands most of it and he won't ask him to repeat it again. "Well he's gone now and he wouldn't have gone if he was that upset that you left right? So it's over right?"

Spike glances at the empty runway. "He's gone for now but he'll be back." The confidence in Spike's voice is clear to all.

"How do you know that for sure?" Gabriel asks, glancing at him confused.

"He can only find the answers to the questions that he doesn't know that he's been asking for a century from one person. Everyone has to wake up at some point; you can't spend your life dreaming."

"How can you be so sure that the person with the answers is here?" Deacon wonders still confused.

"Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?" Spike replies as the corner of his mouth turns up in an enigmatic half grin.

"Edgar Allan Poe." Deacon says with a grin. "I always liked that quote but what do you mean?"

"Oh I think I get it, it's like that old conundrum right? Am I asleep dreaming I'm awake or am I awake dreaming that I'm sleeping?" Gabriel offers.

"Right, like that picture of a man watching the TV and the picture on his TV is of another man watching TV who's watching another man watching TV and so forth. It's a play on perspective." Deacon realises. "Or like that old science fiction story that says our entire universe is only a an atom in a larger existence, that we could even be existing inside the body of something larger than we are."

"Right, sometimes dreams happen for a reason and sometimes they're more than dreams. For over a century Angel has been walking outside his mind when he sleeps and his mind floats outside the barriers he maintains when he is awake. He's started to question whether the dreams are more then they seem." Spike replies, a strange light seems to shine from the depths of his eyes.

"And you are the one that can tell him that." Gabriel states flatly, not needing to make it a question. "Where does his mind wander when he's sleeping?" He asks suspiciously.

Spike taps his temple. "A brave man runs where Angels fear to walk."

"That's what Mom has been helping you with isn't? She knows what's been happening doesn't she?" Gabriel recognizes. "That's why she's been teaching you those meditation techniques!"

"Yes, your Mum's a healer Gabriel, you know she can sense things that the rest of us can't see and she can see the tie that bonds me to Angelus and through him to Angel. She has helped me to recognize what my Demon has known all along. We'll never be finished; the connection between us will never be broken. It explains so many things...." Spike's voice trails off. "Angel will never be whole without me and he's going to wake up to that fact sooner rather than later I think. When he does he'll be back because there's nowhere else for him to go."

"Is that a common bond between a Sire and his Childer? I would have thought your Drusilla would have been more likely to feel this connection rather than your Grand-sire. Or is it that he is older and more powerful that makes the difference?" Deacon asks fascinated.

"As THE Elder of our Order his power is great that's true but the bond we share isn't wholly born of that tie but it may be magnified by it perhaps." Spike replies quietly, his hand lifting to ghost his fingertips over the deep scar just below his left ear.

"What is it then that created the bond between you?" Deacon asks still utterly enthralled by the tale.

"Desire, obsession, possession... maybe even love of a sort all wrapped up in a secret we've carried for over a century." Spike says quietly, he knows that explanation isn't good enough from the expressions on the faces of his friends and looks around. "Why don't we find some little diner or something where we can talk and not freeze our asses off?" He offers.

"Actually we should be heading for the ferry or we'll have to stay in the city, Deacon why don't you come with us and stay with me for a couple days? You're off-call for the next week right?" Gabriel glances at Deacon with a hopeful expression.

"Yes I am and I'd love to. Do we have time to stop off at my place so I can pack a bag?" Deacon asks glancing at his watch.

"It will be close but we'll have time if we go right now and you're quick with the packing." Gabriel says herding them to the car with all the skill of a sheepdog driving a flock and they're on their way within a minute.

Gabriel doesn't take his eyes off the road but he urges Spike to continue his story. "We're warming up and we're not in danger of freezing our asses off so go on."

"Could you start at the beginning?" Deacon asks hopefully, eager to learn more about the enigmatic Vampire he considers one of his best friends.

"Ok the beginning. Angelus was sired by Darla, since you saw him, I'm sure that I don't have to explain why she chose him." Spike says wryly. "Darla was the favourite Childe of the then Elder and Master of the Aurelius Order, that's like a Vampire Clan of sorts and he just preferred to be called the Master rather than by his given name. That's actually fairly common, few Vampires actually keep the names that they had when they were human and for some names don't mean much at all. What they are, well that is enough of an identity and they don't want to remember *who* they used to be."

"It must be a difficult transition to make." Deacon says as an aside.

"It is very difficult, over three-quarters of those turned as minions will be destroyed within their first week of rising, some by their own inability to accept what they've become and others to unkind fates. I saw one of Dru's newly risen minions actually trip on an exposed root and stake themselves not even two minutes raised. That is actually not that uncommon, their re-mortality rates are excessive as they receive little to no attention from the Vampire that created them. Childer since they're usually cared for and protected by their Sires, most of them will survive their initial turning. Whether they live beyond that is rather dependant on their Sires."

"Sort of like parents then? Some parents are attentive and love their children so they grow up well-adjusted and happy and others ignore or abuse them and they become twisted and broken?" Gabriel asks.

Spike nods pleased that they understand. "You could say a lot of things about Angelus but he cared for his Childer in his way and all of us survived and became Masters in our own right. Although Drusilla's Master-ship is mostly the result of the sheer power of Angelus' blood, his care, and the nature of her powers, rather than in her own right. If she wasn't gifted with the powers of the mind that she has, she would never have made Master, her mental state is too fragile and she's naturally submissive. She would have ended up as chattel to some stronger Vampire somewhere." Spike's voice sounds distracted as the memories play once more across the scenery of his mind.

"Angelus did what he could to make her as strong as he could, which was actually quite the challenge since he'd driven her mad before he turned her." Spike continues his tale. "What Angelus accomplished was really very spectacular given the fact that Darla cared little for Vampiric Lore and the mores of Vampire Society other than to enjoy her status as the favourite Childe of a strong Elder that is. What Angelus knew, he taught himself or studied on his own, and an accomplishment that was very rare for the time in which he was turned. Whatever else could be said about Angelus, he was a survivor."

"Is that why he took you under his wing and showed you how to survive as a Vampire?"

Spike chuckles at Deacon's unwitting pun at Angel's expense, 'under his wing' indeed. "I suspect it had more to do with the fact that if I had perished so soon after rising, that it would reflect badly on *him*. Angelus had much concern over his reputation and the image he projected. I think it had to do with his human life; he was the bastard son of a wealthy landholder and while his Father was generous, he knew that society would never recognise him as his heir. He would forever be the pampered bastard son and never the respected lord of the manor. I think it's why he felt that his station in Vampiric life was so important. Regardless though of why he initially took me and raised me, it didn't take him long to make it binding."

"Drusilla didn't object to having you taken away?" Gabriel asks surprised.

"Dru would have cheerfully watched while he killed me if that's what Angelus wanted. I know that Dru cared, cares, for me but for her Angelus will always come first. It took a long time for me to accept that but I have and I even understand it now."

"How did he bind you?" Deacon's spellbound voice asks.

Spike's fingertips reach up to trace the scar on his neck and his smile is sensual and wistful. "Angelus took me... here... obliterated the scar Dru left and drained me almost to dust and then over the course of the next month he fed me himself, three times a day until my blood was no longer truly hers but his. He became as much my Sire as she was perhaps more so. If another Vampire feeds on me he'll taste Angelus in my blood, the strength of my blood, maybe Dru's blood beneath that, and the power that is the Aurelius blood beneath it all. I am the Childe of Angelus by his choice and by my acquiescence. My Demon recognises him as Sire, the man in me recognises him... as more."

"So is it because he took Dru's place that you're still bound to him?" Gabriel asks, trying hard to hide the twinge of jealousy that he feels. His relationship with Spike may have evolved but for a time, he was his and the thread of possessiveness still ties them together.

"No it's when he did it for a second time." Spike says quietly.

"It was a pleasant time, Darla had been called away to attend to her Sire's whims and that left us free to indulge ourselves without censure. We'd been out hunting and we stumbled across a Slayer, almost got staked for our trouble. I was injured. I was still young back then, more than a few years away from achieving Master-ship, too young to take on a Slayer with even a faint hope of winning. Angelus was able to drive her off long enough to get us away. We didn't dare go back to where we were lairing in case she was nearby, that would have left us vulnerable. He secreted us in a little used alley nearby to a coach station and started to tend my wounds as best that he could. If the Slayer tracked us down he figured he could carry me to a coach and we'd escape both the Slayer and the sun in relative safety. He licked my wounds clean and used his blood mixed with his saliva to close the wounds and begin the healing process. It took him over an hour. He hid me in the alley and left me several times to hunt, each time returning to feed me his blood between feedings, taking a little of my own each time." Spike recalls.

"Finally my wounds were almost healed and I wanted to feed and return the care he'd given to me but Angelus refused to let me hunt alone with a Slayer in the area. I lured several... interested people to me instead. It was easy back then, alleys were common assignation spots for certain... activities, especially between men of the time. I fed well and Angelus fed from me and few things arouse a Vampire as easily as feeding and exchanging blood with a member of one's bloodline." Spike drifts in the memory.

"He had already taken you from Drusilla so what effect did the second claiming have?" Gabriel asks suspiciously.

"To understand that you have to understand just *how* a vampire is created. It's not like the movies or the books would lead you to believe for the most part. Firstly, a Vampire doesn't have to seduce a victim, they don't have to be willing, minion or Childe can be created without consent, but curiously a Childe will be stronger if they *do* consent so they are often seduced, courted, or tricked into accepting their Sires. Minions are drained completely of their blood the Vampire then pierces their wrist and lets some blood enter their mouths. That forms the mystical conduit that allows a Demon to enter the body and reanimate it and a minion rises. It is essentially a blank slate and knows but one thing, loyalty to the Vampire that spawned it; nothing of their humanity remains, they are only Demons. It's like... think of them like newly hatch ducklings, they imprint on the first living thing that they see, minions are almost the same, only they are bound the one who's blood spawned them." Spike explains.

"Okay I think I get it. Because they have no ties to the person they were, all they know is the one that created them and thus their loyalty is absolute right?" Deacon says excitedly.

"Basically that's right, it's a bit more involved but that's basically how a minion is made and why." Spike agrees, glancing over his shoulder to smile at Deacon encouragingly. "When a Vampire chooses to sire a Childe, they *aren't* drained completely, they are allowed to retain some of their blood prior to receiving the blood of their Sire. While the act of siring renders them as subordinate to the Vampire that sires them, they retain a greater degree of their humanity; the qualities that in most cases led to their selection as Childer."

"What's the difference between siring and claiming?" Deacon asks, his hand lifts to stroke the scarred over bite mark on his shoulder, all but hidden beneath his shirt.

"In essence they are almost the same in that bonds are created that tie one or more Vampires together. Sometimes a Sire will choose to claim a Childe, often only their favourite is honoured so and the ties between Sire and Childe are strengthened." Spike explains. "A claim is in some ways a deeper bond as it is forged between two fully developed Demons whereas a siring bonds a Demon to what is in essence an infant."

"Can a Vampire have more than one claim on them?" Gabriel asks.

"No, a Demon will accept only one claim at a time, each new claim supplants the old and takes its place." Spike replies.

"But you said that Angelus claimed you twice right? The first time, it was to wrest sire-ship from Drusilla but what did the second do?"

"That is probably the one facet of Vampire physiology, other than the stake, that books and movies got at least partially right and it was all on accident. You know how the oldest movies and books claim that a Vampire can only be created if the same Vampire feeds from them three times and then and only then can they be turned?" Spike asks with a sardonic grin. Deacon and Gabriel nod having read or seen that in some of the old late night horror movies. "Well as I explained that's not true but there *is* a special set of circumstances that does require it. While the first claim between Vampires is commonplace, so much so that nearly every Vampire ever risen bears a claim, it is far more rare to ever find a pair bound by additional claims for a very specific reason. The second claim sets into motion what is a very unattractive result for most Demons. It initiates the mating bond, the tightest and most unbreakable of all the bonds that can bind Demon kind."

Gabriel punches the brake and hurriedly pulls the truck over and turns to stare at Spike with disbelief in his eyes. Deacon leans over the back seat to rub his shoulders but his eyes are locked on Spike's emotionless face.

"As I said, Darla was a poor Sire when it came to teaching Angelus about the Lore and the traditions and dictates of Vampiric society. I don't think that he knew what that second claim would set in motion, though I suspect that the Demon possesses at least an instinctual understanding of what it meant, consciously he was ignorant to the import. I was young still considered little more than a fledgling myself, I didn't understand what was happening and what I *should* have done when Angelus placed the second claim. Neither of us knew and we've been paying for our ignorance for over a century." Spike says sadly.

"What do you mean? Are you or aren't you Angelus' mate? And if you are then what does that make Angel to you, since he's the souled version of Angelus anyway?" Gabriel exclaims.

Spike reaches over and cups Deacon's hand where it's resting on Gabriel's shoulder. "Drive Gabriel and I'll answer what I can ok?"

Gabriel takes a deep calming breath and pulls back out onto the road and Spike continues his explanation. "You see mating is one bond that can't *be* forced. The second claiming Angelus gave me should have been answered by one by me towards him but because I was too young and inexperienced, I failed to recognise it and act accordingly. Basically I left him at the altar with his vows already said." Spike says heavily, a mournful expression darkening his eyes to deep indigo blue.

"When it was safe we returned the lair and found that Darla had returned. She ordered Angelus to pack his belongings; that he would be returning to the Master's court with her. Angelus tried to refuse her but she was his Sire and her word was his law and he could not defy her. She took him and ordered us to stay, as the Sire of our Sire we too were bound to obey and we had no choice. Neither Dru nor I were strong enough to defy both Darla and Angelus so we stayed as we were bidden. They were gone for almost a year and when Angelus did eventually return, he bore no resemblance to the man that I knew. He'd become hard, brutal, callous, and a dozen other unflattering adjectives. As much as he'd come to care for me he now seemed to revile me. We came to blows several times and blood became not a thing of pleasure but of domination. He tried to break me and I took every opportunity to defy him until at last we were little more than constant irritations to each other.

"What would that do to someone...?" Deacon asks nervously. "...To have to live with a bond only half-formed?"

"Insanity by degrees and a century of the subconscious knowing what we've been blind to. I began to have terrible nightmares not long after my arrival in Port Townsend. Letty suggested that I try some meditation techniques she knows and she began to instruct me in their use; to perhaps find the reason for my nightmares and strange dreams. Letty showed me the way to access my subconscious. Not only have I made peace with the Demon part of me but thanks to you two, I've made my peace with my human part as well. I see things that I was blind to before, the motivations that were working on me silently and quietly. I knew the day would come that Angel would start to realise this as I have but I didn't think it would be so soon." Spike says softly, his eyes slipping closed as his mind turns inward.

So many things have been working against him; he has to wonder if any decision has ever been truly his own. He was a truly a Childe but Angelus could claim to be nothing more as well, both of them bound by a Lore that none of their Elders could be bothered to teach them. They have been the one to pay for their failure, Spike thinks silently. His pursuit of Buffy, he now understands had less to do with her than it did Angelus. Almost everything that had happened once he'd hit Sunnydale played to a fate larger than he was, larger than them both. It is a fate that will bring them back together... sooner rather than later. He descends into his memory as so many images flit across his mind.

Gabriel starts to lift his hand to pat his shoulder but Deacon intercepts it and curls his hand around it and leans forward to shake his head. After a moment Gabriel nods and relaxes his arm, letting his hand fall away and sighing as Deacon leans forward to press a kiss to the back of his neck before sitting back in his seat. They leave Spike to his thoughts and head for Deacon's apartment and then... home.
 

Chapter Ten

Angel glances over as the steward wrestles the door closed and intercom's the pilots to let them know that the jet is secured, before hurrying to a seat and belting himself in. His keen gaze brushes over a dozing Fred, leaning weakly against Wesley's shoulder, who is yawning widely and looking only half awake. It's taken them the better part of forty-eight hours to get their affairs in order and set their plans in motion.

They have been moving carefully and methodically, Wesley's cleverness coming to the fore with Fred's assistance and they have slipped the reins that Wolfram & Hart have so cleverly wrapped around them. It is truly a masterpiece of engineering on all of their parts. Gunn believes Angel is on his way to the New York office as Wes and Fred are supposedly on their way to the London office for a symposium on magically enhanced information systems. Thanks to Wesley's magic and Fred's techno-wizardry two Wolfram & Hart jets are winging their way to their destinations believing them to be onboard. Meanwhile they're safely in San Francisco taking off in a privately hired jet. As soon as they're twenty minutes out, the next phase of their plan will go into effect as a virulently malevolent magic-enhanced computer virus will be unleashed to ravish the Wolfram & Hart databases. Through the high speed network *all* of the Wolfram & Hart databases will be effected. Any and all records regarding them will be consumed in the resulting conflagration. By the time the virus can be halted the network will be irretrievably destroyed beyond reconstruction.

Before their departure they plumbed the network for highly sensitive material that has now been carefully distributed and concealed safely. Even if they should be found by Wolfram & Hart they'll have the ammunition to force them to back off; it is also the means that will protect Connor. They can disappear into anonymity safely, thanks to all of their contacts and varied skills. Two days later they're on the verge of new lives but he knows that his new life can only begin in the embrace of his old one. It's time to go get Spike.

"Fred, Wes?" Angel says softly, then a little louder when it fails to stirs the sleepy pair. "Fred, Wes? We should discuss what we're doing and then we can all rest for the remainder of the trip."

Wes stirs first, nodding sleepily as Fred just sits blinking owlishly and allows Wes to guide her to the dining area once the steward tells them it's safe to unbuckle their belts. Angel joins them and each sets their briefcases on the table as they slide into the booth. Fred and Wes remove slender notebook-type laptops from their briefcases as Angel removes a bulky array of file folders that he neatly stacks on the table before moving the briefcase aside.

Yawning Fred opens her laptop and accesses the program she lodged in a hidden file of the master mainframe. With a key taps of the keys the program is activated and it begins replicating through the system's network to all the other Wolfram & Hart divisions. She keeps an eye on the screen monitoring the spread of the insidious virus she created with Wesley's help for just such an eventuality that they may be forced to flee Wolfram & Hart and require certain assurances that they would prove difficult to track. Regretfully they all determined that Gunn was irretrievably compromised by his relationship with Eve and it was decided that they would leave without him. She turns her attention to Wes as he opens his own laptop and calls up several files that he reviews briefly as Angel does the same for the bulky files that he's brought along.

"Ok shall we begin?" Angel says gruffly but the thread of excitement in his voice is a relief to his two friends that have been worried about him since their perhaps ill-conceived sojourn at Wolfram & Hart.

"My contacts came through for us." Angel says proudly, sliding two thick folders across the table, one towards Wes and the other towards Fred. "I decided it would be best if we kept legal names near our own so Wes; you're newly legal name is Weston Sebastian Pryce the third. You were born to an English ex-patriot that made his money in shipping and married into a well-to-do East Coast family, the Kenyons of Manhattan. You don't see eye to eye with your family on account of your decision to not follow your Father into the family business and chose instead a scholarly career. My contact was able to hack into the pertinent databases and your PhD's have simply been transferred accordingly and your credentials remain impeccable. You'd have no trouble applying to a university or other learning institution if you chose to pursue the scholarly lifestyle."

Wes opens the folder and looks through the contents and he's amazed to see that everything he could possibly need is included in the packet from a new social security card to bank account information and even a perfectly legal looking birth certificate and passport. Out of curiosity he opens the passport and has to shake his head at the attention to detail. It's even stamped and well used and shows a dual citizenship and what looks to be a complete history spanning more than thirty some years of travel. He has to admit that it's a clever idea, to have a name just enough alike to be familiar and comfortable but just different enough as to not be immediately linkable to him.

"Fred you were I admit, a little harder to 'shop for' as they say. Your name is so distinctive that it was difficult to come up with a name that would allow you to use Fred as a nickname. So I borrowed your Father's middle name and your Mother's name to come up with a name I think you'll like and can live with. You're name is Terri Frederica Burke. Since it's unlikely you'll find many jobs in nuclear physics where we're going my contact constructed you a new scholastic and employment history that will allow you to use your other skills to higher effect. I did have him make arrangements for you to keep your physics doctorate though just on case. You double majored in Business and computer programming so either of those should provide a lot of employment opportunities."

"What did you do for my parents Angel? I want to make sure Wolfram & Hart can't connect me to them or use them in any way. I know it's harsh but did you do as we discussed?" Fred opens the folder Angel gave her and looks through it.

"Yes, it wasn't that difficult though I'm not sure if I should be worried about that or not. Your parents believe that you're in the witness protection program. It was easy to formulate a convincing scenario with some help from Wes. They believe that you witnessed a mob execution and for your own safety that you've been placed in the program and that for security purposes they should tell everyone that you were killed in an auto accident. Wes falsified some documents to that effect and your parents just want you to be safe so they've agreed." Angel replies. "Your new history lists you as an orphan from the age of eighteen and that you have no living relatives other than an eccentrically wealthy Great-Uncle that lives overseas and has given you a sizeable trust fund. That should make the personal finances we've brought with us fairly unnoticeable."

"I'd rather they be without me than with me and in danger. It's for the best." Fred says sadly closing the cover of her folder, just as complex and detail-filled as Wesley's is. "I've already got a job." Fred reveals, ducking her head and pretending to look at the computer screen she's monitoring as they shoot her amazed looks. When she thinks she can control her urge to grin she looks up and shrugs eloquently. "Wes told me where we were going so I logged onto the internet and found some job listings. I've been hired to run the office side of things for a small but lucrative investment concern. They've even offered my housing as part of my employment package."

"That's wonderful Fred. I should have expected you to surprise us as you've been doing that for as long as we've known you." Wes says with an affectionate smile.

"Well I had a little help too. It turns out that I have a friend that lives a few miles away who was able to put in a good word for me." Fred says shyly dropping her eyes.

"Tell her to put in a good word for us too!" Wes says with a chuckle that Angel echoes.

Fred glances away to hide the flash of ire in her normal sweetly placid eyes. They would of course assume it must be a woman; if only they knew! "What about you Angel?"

"Well given the whole 'Vampire' thing, I'm already largely invisible as far as the majority of the world is concerned. I've had an identity fashioned after my original one. I'm Liam Padraig Cailean, son of a deceased Irish Father and an American Mother, born in this country and an artist by trade. My Mother remarried an eccentric older man and currently lives in the South of France with my Step-father with whom I do not get along. To keep me out of trouble they've furnished me with a sizeable trust fund but it's an open secret that they in fact pay me to stay out of their affairs. I've sold the occasional bit of art in my time so I think it'll work as a cover and I doubt they'd expect to find me working as an artist."

"That's a clever idea, avoid them by hiding in plain sight." Fred smiles brilliantly.

"If they do find us then our insurance policies will assure that it's less costly to let us go than it is to try and get us back. I just wish that Gunn could have come with us." Wes says sadly.

"I don't think he's been our friend since they stuffed his head full of who knows what. They could have taken more than they gave. I think Gunn is little more than a shell of the man we knew." Fred replies wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

"I think we still have someone there that we can trust to spread any gossip that we may be interested in. Harmony may have been only a passable secretary but as a spy she's almost useful." Angel says dryly. "A bit of money and a subtle threat or two and the natural subservience of her Demon should make her fairly reliable as a source of information but I don't think we should rely on her. She'll follow whoever is strongest to avoid being a victim; it's the Vampire way for minions to survive."

"I called Lorne; he still has contacts within Wolfram & Hart that could be valuable as well. He offered to try and keep an eye on Gunn but I told him that could be too dangerous and that he should try and keep his distance. He asked where we were going and I told him I wasn't sure yet but that we'd try to get word to him when we were settled. He said that he wished us luck and that he thought we were all brave to leave while we could." Fred states, dashing away another tear as she glances at her computer screen and quickly reviews the read-out. "Virus distribution is at eight-seven percent and multiplying exponentially along projected perimeters. It should reach saturation within ten minutes and the data cascade should begin at maximum density. It will eat their data system to the bare infrastructure before they even realise what's happening to their system."

"Well done." Angel praises. "What about the hard copies?"

"They're too arrogant to think that they need anything as old fashioned as hard copies with the level of security and technology they employ. Just to be sure though, I arranged for a little accident to befall the basement files. I'm sure they'll be a bit surprised if they try to recover the hard copies with the Pyro Demon I let loose in there and all." Wes says with a big grin.

"Well whatever little survives won't be worth much with their penchant for burning everything in sight to ash and beyond." Angel replies pleased. "What progress have you made on your research project? Are you positive that you've found him?"

"I'm fairly certain, let's say a good eighty to ninety percent certain that we'll find him in Port Townsend, Washington; or that we can find someone there that can lead us to him." Wes runs a cable from his lap top to a data port built into the framework of the table and with a few taps of the keys a large white screen drops from its compartment in the ceiling plates and the lights dim. A few more taps and the pictures of three very familiar faces appear on the screen and Angel has to bite back an instinctual growl. "Here is what I've been able to learn so far." Wesley types in some commands and two of the pictures dim, leaving one highlighted.

"His name is Gabriel Vincent Kane and contrary to appearances he is not altogether human but is at least one-quarter Feryan Demon through his maternal bloodline. I suspect that his Father may have been at least part Demon as well but I've found precious little information on his Father. His Mother however is fairly well known in certain circles as a Healer and a Mystic of no small ability. Leticia Kane is in fact a very formidable woman by all accounts who was left to raise Gabriel alone when her husband or Mate suffered an untimely death." Wes recites glancing over at his notes now and then to refresh his memory. "He is currently the Sheriff of Port Townsend, a job he's held for the last eight years. He shares a home with his Mother Letty and a William Seth Faulkner, a Deputy Detective in the Port Townsend Police Department."

Angel jerks upright his eyes widening in shock. "What did you say?" He demands. "William Seth Faulkner?" He growls. "That's Spike!" Angel slumps back muttering darkly under his breath.

"Then it would seem that the decision to head there is a prudent one." Wes says simply before continuing his report. He taps some keys and a second picture is highlighted. "This man is Captain Deacon Ballard, he's currently the youngest fire station chief in Seattle and it's rumoured that he's involved with Gabriel Kane in a long term relationship. I haven't had time to find out much more than his name and what he does and that he lives in Seattle and that he spends quite a bit of time in Port Townsend. If the rumours of his relationship with Mr. Kane are accurate that would be logical." He taps a few keys and the first two pictures fade and the last is highlighted. "This is Paulson Clifford Littlefield; he's the Curator of Special Exhibits at the Burke Museum of Natural History and Culture in Seattle. I haven't been able to discover much more than that, some sort of governmental security lock-out."

"You've managed to find out more than I expected since we've had so much to do in preparation for leaving. I trust you attempted to do some background checks on William Faulkner." Angel leans back and steeples his fingertips under his chin.

"Attempted is the correct word and judging by your expression you expected that would be my answer." Wes says with a small grin. "I've been able to find some sketchy information only as it seems much of the information is encrypted with a surprising level of skill. I've been running some decryption protocols but so far I'm not having much luck cracking the layers of protection they've layered over their systems. I have however discovered some interesting facts about Port Townsend itself." Wes types in some commands and a small slide show of Port Townsend begins to play across the screen.

"Maximum density achieved, data cascade in five... four... three... two... one... activated." Fred interrupts to quietly inform them. "I've set it to take out the area of maximum concerns first and then to the less high risk systems after that. LA, New York, Chicago, Washington D.C. and Detroit will be first, the others will simultaneously begin their conflagration cascades once Detroit's database is destroyed." Fred glances at her laptop screen. "LA and New York are gone, Chicago and D.C. are at ninety percent... gone. Detroit is at seventy-nine percent... eighty-five... ninety-three... gone. The rest of their databases are going doing at varying rates. It looks like they're trying to stop its spread through the Rome office's database; their rate of consumption is slowing but still progressing. I estimate they'll lose everything before they can stop it at this rate. There are some other attempts but not as good and just as futile; they won't be able to stop it before it destroys the database. We've done it." Fred says proudly.

"Well done both of you! That won't destroy them but maybe it will distract them for a few years from doing anything major while they reconstruct over a millennium's worth of files and essential information. Please proceed Wes." Angel smiles warmly at the pair.

Wes turns his attention back to his report as Fred keeps a quiet eye on the progress of their nasty little surprise for Wolfram & Hart.

"During my research I've discovered that Port Townsend actually has a small but thriving Demon community. Now that's not unusual by any means as most cities of any reasonable size will support communities of varying sizes. What I did find unusual however is the level of integration that exists in Port Townsend. Demons are actually accepted in the general populace and in some cases encouraged to take up residence. I've found instances of Demons holding public offices, running businesses, and in one surprising case, serving as the County Coroner. Of the Demon species that I have thus far identified, most are of harmless or benign species but there are instances of previously hostile species living peacefully amongst them as well." Wes recites from his notes. "I've also been unable to identify several individuals and I suspect that they are either a new species altogether or perhaps a hybrid of one or more known species. It's difficult to tell from the quality of the photos and information that I've been able to gather thus far; Demons rarely feel the need to fill out census forms."

"If Demons really are a part of their community then that could explain why the level of security on their databases is so extreme. They could be trying to protect the privacy of their less... human... neighbours and provide a way for them to be contributing members of the society. If they're owning businesses and holding public office then they'd need to have certain documentation, at least on paper if not in fact." Fred taps the thick folder Angel gave to her.

"That's an excellent observation Fred and I think it's the correct one. It would make sense and actually be easy as the Sheriff, Mayor, and several members of the city council are to my knowledge at least part Demon; they're in the ideal position to assist others of their ilk." Wes glances through his notes, turning the pages several times. "There is also evidence that at least one Senator and several members of the House of Representatives may also have some ties to Port Townsend as I suspect do several Mayors of other larger urban cities in Washington."

"Washington state and Seattle in particular has always been a haven for Demon-kind almost since the first cities and towns were carved out of the trees. Something about the area seems to attract us. It's somewhat like the Hellmouth... only without the whole demonic entrance to Hell bit." Angel comments.

"I suspect that's due to a combination of factors at this point. Port Townsend does have a reputation in certain circles as a place not to go starting trouble." Wes notes.

"Well I'm sure Spike and his little law buddy have more than a little to do with that. Spike protects his own and if he's decided that Port Townsend is his then he will defend it and her citizens. Were you able to find out anything about his life since he's been there Wes?"

"Only some pretty bare facts, some of which we found out on our first visit. He is listed as a Deputy in Port Townsend charged with investigation powers and I did find a record of his attendance at a registered Academy so his credentials in that regard are, I believe, genuine. He is a frequent visitor to Seattle, usually catching a ride on the newly established Water-Trails Ferry Company that services the area. He is usually to be found in the company of Misters Kane and Ballard and I've found some references to occasional performances at small venues around the area. I've actually managed to track down a short recording that was offered at one of the websites for one of these small clubs." Wes notes.

"What sort of 'performances' Wes? If he's stripping; I don't want to know about it!" Angel snarls.

"Actually... he sings." Wes chokes out, trying to bite back a snigger knowing that Angel won't appreciate it if he laughs at him. "He has a small casual band consisting of friends, including Gabriel Kane and Deacon Ballard. They play small clubs and other venues to support various shelters and other assistance programs around their area. It's really quite an upstanding thing to do really."

"He's singing... in public. He used to sing sometimes... then he stopped." Angel drops his eyes.

Wes resists the urge to comfort Angel; for so long he's appeared like a fly trapped in amber, frozen and immoveable but now it appears a thaw is at hand and if the pain is encouraging him back to life than he'll have to let it work its will. He leans over his computer and types in some commands once he finds the file he's looking for.

The pictures on the screen disappear and a test pattern appears finally resolving into a smaller image that shakes faintly betraying the amateur hand in its recording. The image is of a small bar; the sort you can see on any street corner in America and in roughly the centre of the shot, is the image of a small but well-made stage. Spike is sitting beside Gabriel Kane, the pair both balancing acoustic guitars across their laps. Behind them Deacon Ballard sits behind a drum set and to his left an unfamiliar man sits behind a small piano. Part of him catalogues the faces but it's Spike that has his attention.

"Welcome to the Minefield, my name is Wil and my friends and I would like to play for you tonight. We ask that you please reach deep and contribute whatever you can when they pass the donation plate; we're performing for the Sisters of St. Bernadette's orphanage. Together we can make Christmas happen for a lot of children so please help us to make a large donation to them tonight."

Angel shivers as the sound of that whiskey smooth voice. It dances over his skin like caressing fingers, slipping inside to stroke parts of him that have been asleep for so long and seducing them to throbbing life. His eyes are glued to those slender and graceful fingers as they move to stroke over the strings of the guitar coaxing a sweet melody from the silent strings. His shivers as the memory of those hands dancing across his body and the music they once seduced from his body comes back to him in treble time.

There's another world inside of me
That you may never see
There're secrets in this life
That I can't hide
Somewhere in this darkness
There's a light that I can't find
Maybe it's too far away...
Maybe I'm just blind...

Maybe I'm just blind...

 So hold me when I'm here
Right me when I'm wrong
Hold me when I'm scared
And love me when I'm gone
Everything I am
And everything in me
Wants to be the one
You wanted me to be
I'll never let you down
Even if I could
I'd give up everything
If only for your good....

Chapter Eleven

The landing was smooth and the weather was nasty as befits the Pacific Northwest during a cold front. Angel takes the crew of the jet aside for a discussion while Wes oversees the off-loading of their luggage and boxes. Fred watches from the warmth of the terminal where a concerned Angel and Wes have sent her to stay warm and dry.

The pilot smiles hugely as Angel hands him an envelope stuffed with a not inconsiderable amount of money and he nods eagerly. The crew's smiles are touched with tinges of greed as Angel hands each of them, including the pilot smaller envelopes but they fade to fearful worry as Angel steps closer and says something to each of them. He looms over them as each gives a frantically fearful nod before he steps back and plasters a fake sociable grin across his face as he shakes their hands. As soon as the last of their things is off-loaded the crew scrambles back aboard the jet as Angel joins Wes for the walk to the terminal, a trio of porters following in their wake.

Fred closes her laptop and secures it in its case and walks over to join them. "The virus has run its course. We even managed to get a couple of new offices I hadn't heard they were opening and some of the smaller research and local offices that were connected to the network. It's possible that some of the smaller holdings may not have been connected to the network at the time and escaped the virus but I left a little surprise for them too. Before we left I lodged about a hundred nasty little worm programmes into their network infrastructure. Each one is programmed to either activate at a prearranged time, randomly or as a result of certain routine processes that I hid the programmes inside. They'll never find them all and it will routinely destroy key systems at unpredictable intervals. Since the networking system is independent and spread across their whole infrastructure it's unlikely they'll think to replace it when they replace the computers and servers since it doesn't directly interface the network on its own." Fred smiles and explains further when she sees the glazed looks in their eyes.

"Normally a network infrastructure of this type functions like a highway; it provides certain set routes to deliver and retrieve information to the appropriate systems and databases. Normally this pathway is inert. The work of data transfer is carried off by various programmes, processes, and such which are like the cars. What I did was use a variation of the virus Wes and I came up with and I hid it in the road itself which is normally benign and harmless. At various times and through various means as I said, one of the viruses will awaken, attach itself to a 'car' and use that to deliver itself into a mainframe where it will spread like it did earlier. It could be a year, four years; they'll have no way to predict it and therefore little chance of finding and stopping them all."

"Oh I get it!" Angel sounds surprised and they all laugh. "The only way to prevent it from happening would be to rip out and rebuild all the highways, which they won't think they'll have to do since ordinarily it doesn't do anything harmful. That would be really expensive right?" Angel sounds smug.

"If they were to do a complete overhaul of the system, at their level of sophistication it would cost roughly forty-seven billion dollars. If they leave the network infrastructure in place they can rebuild at a substantially reduced cost." Fred says with a nod of satisfaction.

"And that would leave them vulnerable to the little souvenirs you left for them." Wes grins and hugs Fred tightly, causing her to blush and stumble faintly. "That's ruddy brilliant Fred!"

"Won't they be able to hire hackers to find them though?" Angel asks confused, he blushes faintly as Wes and Fred grin to hear him using a modern day word like 'hackers' correctly. Computers and Angel have never formed a very workable relationship.

"That's not very likely due to the magical aspect of their shielding. Unless their hackers also happen to be magically inclined and know what they're looking for they won't find them all but they may find some of them that's true. Since they're harmless bits of magic sheathed coding until they activate it is unlikely that any sort of 'hostile entity' search will work either. We've got them and they invited us in. If they happen to manage to track the source of the 'infestation' Eve is going to have a lot of explaining to do." Fred's grin is frankly a wickedly pleased one. "Wes and I broke into her office and used her computer to access the areas we needed."

Angel stops in mid-step and bends over laughing so hard he has to brace his palms on his knees. "That's classic. It's almost enough to make me want to go back and see the look on her face if that happened." He wheezes weakly as Wes and Fred look smug and satisfied.  "If Gunn comes to harm, make sure that they find out whose computer was used to destroy their precious Databases." Angel says coolly once he's calmed down and they've resumed walking. "Though I suspect with that whatever he let them shove into his head there isn't much left of the Gunn that we knew."

"He chose this path Angel. He deliberately hid what he was planning to do knowing that we'd stop him if he told us about it. He lied to us and he snuck off and sold his soul to the Devils." Wes' voice is flat and unemotional. He's agonized over Gunn's situation for long enough and unlike the other friends that they've lost, he chose to walk to his fate fully understanding its cost; so he will not grieve for him.

"Isn't there any way to help him?" Angel asks sadly and redundantly; he's asked that same question a dozen times over since they set their plan to leave Wolfram & Hart for good into motion.

"There may have been before he got involved with Eve but she's only tightened whatever influence over him that they already had." Fred replies sadly. "There's just no way for us to tell what they pumped into his brain that he may not consciously realise is there. He could betray us without even realising that he has. I researched it thoroughly when he told us what he'd let them do to him and I found no way to reverse it because he accepted it willingly."

"It's rather like a person inviting a Vampire into their home, once they do, they become powerless and exist only at the whim of something more powerful than they are. Vampires are rarely known to be in merciful or generous moods and I rather suspect that Wolfram & Hart is more ruthless still. Even if we could somehow free Gunn from Eve and remove what they did to him, we could never completely trust him again. We did what we had to do. I'd rather know that he's alive if a puppet on a string somewhere than bring him with us and face that we may one day be forced to kill him when he turns on us." Wes' voice is cool unemotional steel.

Fred glances around and surreptiously strokes the cameo hanging from her throat, the warm tingle beneath her fingertips comforting her. A flare of warmth beneath her fingertips sends a smile fleeting across her lips. She knows he's nearby.

"What arrangements did you make Wes?" Angel asks, looking over his shoulder to make sure the group of porters is still trailing them towards the large main doors that guard the entrance.

"I've made arrangements with a real estate agency in Port Townsend tomorrow to show us some nice places they have listed. I sent them the list of requirements that you gave me and they were positive that they had several listings that would meet the requirements. We can amend that slightly since Fred's already got a place to live and a new job." Wes smiles proudly and she blushes and looks away. "I made some reservations at a Hotel near the docks where we can catch the ferry service to Port Townsend tomorrow... or tonight... whatever it is." Wes glances at his watch. "Yeah, tomorrow it is." He says with a grin and a shrug. "That will give us time to make the other arrangements; including buying a car and some of the things we'll need and make arrangements for them to be sent to Port Townsend. I've rented a fairly large unit in one of the twenty-four hour Storage facilities there. I've made some inquiries and the ferry service also operates a freight service so we can ship whatever we buy over to the storage unit. The real estate agency is open late and I made an appointment for nine in the evening, that should give us a couple of hours to attend to things here and of course we can always come back for anything else." Wes leads them through the doors and they all shudder in unison and pull their jackets tighter around them in deference to the less than welcoming weather.

"What about you Fred? Did you make other arrangements?" Angel asks curiously; not sure why Fred had waited so long to let them know that she'd been working on her own arrangements all along. Suddenly a familiar tremor quakes down his spine and he starts to scan his surroundings as Spike steps out of the shadows cast by the overhanging roof of the building.

Spike moves forward with a warm smile, his arms opening as Fred darts forward with a joyful leap and a happy peal of laughter, only to be caught up in a hug. "Hey there Kitten." Spike spins her around and sets her down carefully, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"Hello Spike." Wes steps forward and extends his hand to shake hands with Spike.

"Hey Wes, how was your flight?" Spike asks with a grin.

"It was very satisfying." Wes admits with a grin. "You seem to have been expecting us."

"...For quite some time." Spike says distractedly as he releases Fred to step closer to Angel, stopping until their chests are almost touching, tilting his head back slightly to meet his eyes. "Sire."

Angel's eyes fly open wide as Spike inclines his head in the age old symbol of respect known worldwide. He sucks in a startled breath as Spike takes that final step forward and their chests touch. He meets his eyes and then slowly tilts his head back and to the side, baring his throat.  It is a show of deference that occurs almost solely between Childe; who is acknowledging their place as a subordinate; and their Sire.  He is trembling as he leans down to press his lips over the scar that marks their past history on Spike's throat. He shudders in reaction and inhales shakily as his arms curl around Spike's powerful form and yanks him closer as his scent floods through him. After all this time he can still smell his scent underlying his Childe's as he inhales deeply, as his tongue flicks out to brush teasingly against the sensitive skin dimpled by the scar. It suddenly strikes him what this showing is about and he releases Spike and steps back. It is a Childe welcoming his Sire to his territory. "Childe."

"Welcome back to Seattle." Spike steps back and reclaims Fred once more. He glances over the trolleys of luggage and sees that Wes has been efficient as ever and each of their belongings have been neatly segregated. He motions to the steward pushing the trolley holding Fred's things and gestures towards a black and silver SUV waiting at the curb. He pulls some keys from his pocket and his fingers find the remote easily and deactivate the alarm. He replaces the keys in his pocket and a twenty dollar bill is clutched between two fingers when he pulls his hand out. He holds it out for the eager porter and he snatches it as he passes by with a snappy salute. "When he's finished loading, please load the rest in and you've got the same tip waiting for you." Spike informs the other two porters and the pair nods eagerly, charging after their compatriot.

"Are you planning to take us somewhere?" Angel asks curiously.

"I'm taking you home." Spike says quietly, steering Fred towards the truck when he feels her shivering under his arm. He carefully helps her into the truck, lifting her easily into the high vehicle. He nods to Wes who has followed him. "Mind helping Fred buckle up Wes?" He asks with a wink that has a blushing Wesley hurriedly climbing into back seat alongside Fred. Spike waits for him to get settled and then closes the door and returns to Angel.

"Spike what are you up to?" Angel asks suspiciously. "You're being entirely too pleasant." Angel gasps as he's suddenly looking up at Spike standing over him, rubbing the sting out of a lightly curled fist.

"Feel better?" Spike asks crouching and holding his hand out with a grin daring Angel to trust him.

Angel rubs his jaw and thinks for a moment. "Yep, familiar is a good thing." He takes Spike's hand and lets him pull him to his feet. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you doing this?"

"Something I saw in a dream maybe?" Spike smiles enigmatically, walking away to tip the other two porters; with a swish of his hips that draws Angel's eyes to his swinging hips like a magnet pulling iron shavings as he stalks around the front of the truck and gets in.

"Hey! What does that mean?!" Angel demands charging for the truck and hurriedly climbing inside.

Spike doesn't answer, only chuckling and starting the truck before moving smoothly into the flow of traffic. "There are two suites reserved at the Palace Hotel in town and Letty will meet you at the Real Estate office at eight. There are some nice shops in town and you can probably find anything that you like there but if not the ferry runs on a regular schedule; they'll have copies of the schedule at the Hotel. Your transportation is taken care of as well," Spike reaches up and pulls down the sun visor and catches the keys that tumble down and tosses them to Angel. "It's waiting on the Ferry; Clem was nice enough to drive it there for you. Letty asked me to let you know that she expects you at our place for dinner after your business tomorrow is over. I'd suggest just saying yes because she doesn't take no for an answer."

"Where is your... friend, Mr. Kane?" Angel asks, trying to sound polite rather than insatiably curious.

"Gabriel got a call about a break-in from one of the travel properties so he stayed to check it out. He'll probably be there to meet us at the dock when we land at Townsend."

"Oh happy, happy, joy, joy." Angel mutters, ignoring Spike's not so muffled snickers.

"I assume that your arrival isn't a coincidence Spike." Wes observes.

"No, it's not a coincidence." Spike confirms, glancing in the rear view mirror and smiling at Fred.

"I let him know that we were arriving tonight." Fred says quietly, flinching lightly as Angel turns to stare at her looking a little betrayed and hurt by her now apparent culpability in Spike's disappearance.

"I take it that you know the person Fred will be working for." Wes curiously doesn't sound surprised that Fred has maintained a relationship with Spike.

"Whom she'll be working with and yes intimately." Spike confirms. "She'll be safe as houses."

Wes leans back with a smile, his arms crossing over his chest. Suddenly his concerns about Fred seem to be fairly foolish.

"How 'intimately' are we talking here?" Angel demands brusquely.

"As 'intimate' as it gets Angel. Unless I'm mistaken Fred will be working for...." Spike clears his throat gruffly and Wesley amends his statement with a smile. "...With, Fred will be working with Spike."

"Doing what pray tell; holding your hand while you play Law & Order?" Angel asks snidely.

"I've made some fortunate investments and I've been very successful but it is a bit of a chore to keep track of everything and attend to the day to day details of my investments. Fred's agreed to help me out and oversee my concerns. We have a spare room in our home so she'll be a welcome addition to the family. I suspect Clem will be moving out soon to live with his girl Maria so there'll be more room soon and Letty does so enjoy having people to take care of, so everyone benefits."

"That would be Kane's house?" Angel asks in a mumble.

"It's actually my house; custom-built since I had some special construction issues. That reminds me when you choose where you're going to move, Letty can make arrangements for the local Coven to make some adjustments to make it safer for you." Spike replies with a shrug.

"That's fascinating; what kind of adjustments can they make?" Wesley asks intrigued.

"The local Coven is very powerful and extremely clever. They've found a way to make it so that Vampires need an invitation to enter, even though as the home of a Vampire it's considered a lair and therefore ordinarily exempt from the invitation rule. They've also perfected a combination spell that functions somewhat like the necro-tempered glass that you had at Wolfram & Hart. It protects the entire property though, not just the windows, you could even stand outside as long as you were within the limits of the spell's boundary. It's a very complex and powerful spell and each time it's used it requires the mystical strength of the majority of the Coven to cast it."

"That's astonishing! But a spell that complex and powerful would be nearly impossible to maintain for any length of time and the wards and binding components would need to be recharged constantly in some fashion to ensure they'd work correctly. How did they get around that problem?" Wes asks excitedly.

"There's a real bit of irony for you Wes. They use a holy relic or other powerful item and bind it to the spell; it functions as a self-replenishing battery of sorts. The relic charges the spell and the spell in turn discharges its energies back into the relic like an alternating current. Unfortunately due to the power consumption needed, it has to be stationary but they have been working on a smaller, more portable version. I've tested a couple of the prototypes and so far they're only good for a few minutes at a time but sometimes that's all you need to turn the tide of a fight or make good an escape." Spike reaches up and brushes his fingertips over the gold and amber stud in his left earlobe.

"They're attempting to recreate the research that led to the creation of the Ring of Amara?" Wes sounds utterly enthralled by the concept. "Is that possible in this day and age?"

"If anyone can do it then the Fall River Clan will find a way." Spike says confidently.

"The Fall River Clan; Port Townsend has a chapter of the Fall River Clan?!" Wes is almost bouncing in his seat from the excitement.

"Calm down Wes before you rupture something!" Angel snickers amused by Wes' infectious excitement.

"The Fall River Clan is one of the strongest Covens in the world and one of the few that accepts multi-denominational members. It is a concept considered radical and blasphemous to most in the mystical circles but it makes them exceedingly strong."

"That's wonderful but mind translating that for the rest of us?" Angel asks dryly.

"Usually a Coven is made up of members that are all from related disciplines if not from the same one; all witches or wizards or sorcerers or druidic... and so forth." Wes explains. "The Fall River Clan accepts members from nearly every discipline as long as their basic code of honour and ethics is comparable to that held by the Coven as a whole."

"He means that some of the members are witches but not all of them are. There are also Shamans from various tribes, sorcerers, healers, druids, and even some rare diabolists and necromancers that have reformed. They all lend their skills and their powers to the Coven as a whole, rather like a Scottish Clan, hence their name." Spike translates with a slight grin. "Their tenets are rather unusual in that they are rather 'maverick' compared to most Covens. Their spells are almost exclusively protective in nature but they are built to function like mirrors or mini-reactors. The more negative energy directed against them, the stronger its protective field becomes, it's a wonder of passive-aggressive engineering. No member of the Coven will ever directly harm another living being but they have no moral objection to the actions of the aggressor causing harm to their selves. Think of it like this, if a member of the Coven were forced to defend themselves or another person by casting a shielding spell and then an aggressor were to persist in an attack and eventually harm themselves or worse, then that is within their tenets."

"Because they acted only to protect and it was the actions of the person that got themselves hurt?"

"That's right Fred." Spike praises. "They will not directly harm another living being by their own actions, not even at the cost of their lives if that is what must be. They're a fascinating group really."

"In fact if memory serves me correctly, I seem to recall that Giles made use of their services for a time when Willow was out of control. I'm not positive though, as I hadn't returned from my own... quest just yet at the time. I hear that she really went Manson on the town though." Spike adds as an aside.

"You sound like you know a lot about them, Spike." Wes notes.

"Letty once led the Fall River Clan although she has since abdicated to a successor; but they still regard her highly and seek her council and assistance often. In fact when Letty moved to Townsend; from the East Coast after the death of her Mate; to live with us the Clan relocated with her. Port Townsend isn't home to a chapter of the Fall River Clan Wes; it is home to the COVEN."

"No wonder Port Townsend has a reputation for not being the kind of place that you want to start trouble in." Wes notes amused and eager to meet fellow practitioners of the mystical arts.

"I suspect that they'll call around to see you Watcher. Your skills and knowledge are valuable assets and they'll likely enquire whether you wish to join their number." Spike notes with a smile.

"Oh that would be marvellous, I could learn a lot." Wes says pleased.

Spike takes the off-ramp and turns down a small access road that brings them to the ferry docks within a few minutes. He's waved through with a cheerful smile and a greeting from the crew members and drives up the ramp and neatly into place behind another vehicle before shutting off the engine and hopping out. He leans in through the still open door. "It will be another fifteen minutes or so before we leave and about an hour and twenty minutes until we arrive in Townsend. I'd suggest heading inside, it's warmer there and they usually have some hot drinks and snacks to keep you comfortable." Spike smiles and steps back closing the door and heading to the back and rummaging around for something before they hear the doors close and see Spike walking towards the outer stairway that leads up to the wheelhouse carrying a large case.
 

Chapter Twelve

Angel turns and looks over the seat and his expression gentles as he sees Fred huddled in her coat; without the truck's heater running it's growing colder by the minute. "We should probably listen to Spike and go inside." Angel turns away and opens his door, taking the opportunity to hide his amazed expression. Somehow out of all the things he thought he would say in life, an endorsement for Spike is one he hadn't expected. A jingle sound catches his attention as he steps out of the truck and he remembers the keys that spike tossed at him and fishes them out of his pocket. He turns them over in his hand and bounces them considering his options as he turns and watches Wes lift Fred carefully out of the truck and start leading her inside.

He fingers the small alarm remote and presses the button and listens. The flashing of a set of lights and the strident whine of an alarm deactivating draws his eyes and he stares at the blood red Camero and shakes his head in amazement. Trust Spike to return his car and make it seem like a grand gesture! He strolls over to the car and runs his hand lightly along the trim, despite the inclement weather that can be brutal on cars due to the effects of rain, snow, ice, and salt, it looks spotless. It's obvious that Spike has been taking careful care of it and he's somehow touched that he would have bothered; maybe he was telling the truth when he said he'd been expecting them for quite a while.

He reactivates the alarm and tosses the keys up and catches them with a smile and a chuckle before pocketing them and turning to head for the large lounge. He's surprised to see that there are quite a few more people than he would have expected to see so late in the evening. Many of them appear to be dressed in the semi-casual work clothes that seem to dominate the working environment these days so he assumes they're headed home after a long day at work in the city. It takes him a moment to find Fred and Wes, sitting near a corner of the room already sipping from steaming Styrofoam cups of something or other. He starts to head through the crowd and somehow, somewhere along the way his hand seems to have sprouted a steaming cup of cider and a small plate with a large pastry of some sort just seems to appear in his other hand along the way.

He notices that Fred's eyes widen as they fall on the large flaky pastry and she licks her lips reflexively and he gallantly hands her the plate with a smile. "Here you go Fred."

"Thank you Angel." Fred smiles and breaks off a piece of the pastry and hands it to Wesley who takes it with a smile. "Have you seen Spike?"

"I saw him heading for the bridge or whatever they call it after he got out of the truck and I don't think he's come back down yet; he must know the Captain."

Wes looks around. "There are a lot of people in here, I'm not sure we could see him if he was in here." He observes with some amusement. "This seems to be a fine service though I must say, maybe the finest I've been on to date. Most Ferry services make people pay for their refreshments and the décor is truly lovely, very comfortable but not overly flowery. I'm impressed."

"Why thank you for the glowing endorsement." A woman's voice has their heads turning and they see an attractive dark haired petite young woman approaching them. She is holding the hand of a floppy skinned Demon that sparks an ember of recognition in Angel but he can't place him right away.

The young woman is lovely but her appearance isn't what could be considered 'mainstream' unless one were used to seeing the club fashions of the day. A long-sleeved, off-the-shoulder black jumpsuit with attached flat-soled boots defines a short but well-proportioned body. Over the jumpsuit is a thigh length gossamer tunic made of some filmy material that may as well be made up of air and good intentions for as much coverage as it offers. Its full sleeves flare from the shoulders to the wrists where tailored cuffs draw the material in neatly. A wide scarlet red waist-cinchier type belt is laced over her abdomen, dipping to a low vee below her navel tailoring the black gossamer over-shirt to her curvaceous form. Despite the warmth of the heaters a chill lingers in the air and she's warded herself against the chilly breezes with a large fluffily thick scarlet dyed cashmere shawl. Her nails are long and end in sharp points, each arrayed in brilliantly hued scarlet, the tips sheathed in a metallic black polish and a large diamond and onyx ring graces her ring finger.

The Demon at her side is large and powerfully built but his expression is one of pure gentleness and humour. It's obvious from his deferential treatment of the young woman that his feelings for her are both deep and genuine and very mutually shared judging by the much larger twin to her ring that graces his ring finger. He may be large and powerful but it's obvious that the petite young woman has him wrapped around her slender fingers.

Angel looks around surreptiously and he's surprised to see that more than one person in the crowd is at least partially Demon-blood and they all seem well-accustomed to the sight of their less than human companions on this Ferry ride.

"Welcome aboard the Moonwhisp." The Demon says with a jovial smile. "I'm not sure if you remember me Angelus but my name is Clem and I'm a friend of Spike's from Sunnydale."

Angel smiles as the name jogs his memory. "Of course I remember you Clem! It's great to see you. It's good to know that you got out of Sunnydale in time." He shakes hands with the likeable Demon that has always struck him as a gentle soul on the few occasions that they've crossed paths. "These are my friends Wes and Fred." Angel introduces his companions with a minimum of details, unsure of what Spike may have told the pair about them.

"We've all heard of the marvellous Fred." The young woman says with a genuine smile. "Everyone in Port Townsend is looking forward to meeting the amazing Fred. Spike's told us about all of you, we're pleased that you've decided to make your home amongst us." Her voice is faintly coloured by a soft accent that seems to fall somewhere between Spanish and French.

"This is my beautiful Maria." Clem says proudly. "We're going to be married this summer."

"Congratulations." They all chime together, finding themselves liking the charming couple.

"Thank you." Maria says smiling boldly. "It took me a year to talk the big softy into it but he gave in eventually." She says with a hearty chuckle, waving her hand expressively as she wraps her free arm around the powerfully muscled arm of her mate-to-be.

They all chuckle, charmed as Clem blushes and looks down shyly. "I just didn't understand what you see in me Maria." He mumbles embarrassed.

"I see a warm, funny, and wonderful person that is as beautiful inside as he is outside. Now kiss me." She orders in a friendly tone that is clearly loving and trusting and Clem obliges by leaning down and doing as she asked before blushing and looking away shyly. Maria shakes her head and smiles, patting him on the shoulder comfortingly. "Thank you for the kind words, we've worked very hard at making this Ferry company the best in Washington."

"Oh wow, golly, you own this Ferry service?" Fred asks impressed.

Maria nods happily. "I run the office side of things but my Clem, he loves the water. He's the senior Captain for the Fleet." Her pride shines through in the smile she shoots at Clem that sets him off in another run of blushing and embarrassed foot shuffling.

"Ah you'll be piloting us to our new home then." Wes says with a smile.

"One of our other Captains will be handling that honour this evening. Clem and I just came along to meet you and welcome you personally." Maria says warmly. "Plus I never pass up a chance to hear Wil sing, especially when he promises to sing my favourite song for me." Maria grins excitedly.

Just then the soft thrumming of a guitar heralds the bass rumbling beneath their feet as the ferry's powerful engines start up, moving them smoothly out into the chill waters.

"Welcome to the Water-Trails Ferry line, my name's Spike, some of you may know me and for the rest of you, you'll know me soon enough and thank me for the pleasure." Spike's voice purrs through the PA system and he chuckles huskily amid the cheers, whistles, and cat calls.

Angel stands and climbs up onto his chair and looks around for a moment before diving into the growing crowd, his powerful form parting the sea of bodies as easily as a shark scattering fish from its path. Shooting looks at each other Wes grabs Fred's hand as he and Clem follow Angel.

They find Angel at the head of a large assemblage of people. Rather than sitting in one of the passenger chairs Spike is sitting on the floor near one of the corners where a small stage has been set up. He's sitting on the small steps, with a lovely rosewood and mahogany acoustic guitar balanced on his thighs, his feet splayed on the two steps leading up to the stage. Angel is currently looming over several chairs and they are unsurprisingly unoccupied and he gracefully gestures to the empty seats with a smile and Clem, Maria, Wes, and Fred gratefully accept. All of the chairs now taken Angel starts towards a corner when Spike reaches out to catch his hand as he passes and gestures to the stage beside him with a smile and a nod of his head. Angel hurriedly takes him up on the offer and sprawls beside him, angling onto his hip so that he can keep Spike in full view.

"This is my old, old, ooooooooold friend Angel everyone and don't let the name fool you because he isn't one." Spike says with a wink toward Angel and a grin for the crowd. "A very good friend of mine has asked for a special request and I promised that I would sing it for her but I'd like to dedicate it to some special people myself. For everyone that believes in ghosts and that gave me something to believe in." Spike adjusts the cordless mic clipped to his shirt and taps it lightly to make sure its working right and with a smile aimed at Angel he gives himself to his music. "Maria, here's your song."

Spike's fingertips dance across the chords and a simple bit of wood, wire, and artisan's blood makes a sound that could make the Heavens weep.

Every time I look at you the world just melts away
All my troubles all my fears dissolve in your affections
You've seen me at my weakest but you take me as I am
And when I fall you offer me a softer place to land

Angel is surprised when Spike turns to look at him, those wondrous eyes of his looking into his soul even as his own are set with a million stars that shine in his eyes.

You stay the course you hold the line you keep it all together
You're the one true thing I know I can believe in
You're all the things that I desire, you save me, you complete me
You're the one true thing I know I can believe

Spike pours his heart into the song as his eyes stay locked on Angel as he sings for Maria and Clem and for friends lost and those so recently reclaimed. He sings his farewell to the past and heralds the future full of possibilities and second chances.

I get mad so easy but you give me room to breathe
No matter what I say or do 'cause you're too good to fight about it
Even when I have to push just to see how far you'll go
You won't stoop down to battle but you never turn to go

You stay the course you hold the line you keep it all together
You're the one true thing I know I can believe in
You're all the things that I desire, you save me, you complete me
You're the one true thing I know I can believe

Spike plays on with a joyful smile as the words of the song float out as a sudden duet. He knows that Angel has never let anyone hear him sing in his true voice, the rolling accent as soft as clover and growing moss and as strong as the pounding sea. Ireland's son is never far from home but only those closest to him make it through the shielded walls that guard his sacred space. He was one of the few and here in this magic moment, their friends and these blessed strangers are all seeing the wonders to be found inside.

 Your love is just the antidote when nothing else will cure me
There are times I can't decide when I can't tell up from down
You make me feel less crazy when otherwise I'd drown
But you pick me up and brush me off and tell me I'm OK
Sometimes that's just what we need to get us through the day

 You stay the course you hold the line you keep it all together
You're the one true thing I know I can believe in

You're all the things that I desire, you save me, you complete me
You're the one true thing I know I can believe

Angel sucks in a shaky breath and nuzzles against Spike's caress. "I know that there are times that it seemed like I didn't believe that you were worth anything but I've always believed in you, that there was something special about you and you've just sung me how right I was."

The microphone picks up the softly spoken comment and a collective, "Awww," breaks over the room in its wake as Spike deftly begins playing again as Angel blushes and lowers his face embarrassed at being caught in a moment of tenderness that has unwittingly become a public declaration.

The applause is thunderous and lasting before the crowd settles in to listen to some good music on their way home.
 

Chapter Thirteen

Spike cradles his guitar and smiles at the crowd. "I'd say there's time for one more song in my set this evening so I'm going to end with a special song that I hope you'll all enjoy. This one is for Angel, it is a song called the Fields of Athenry and a long time ago it was his favourite song to hear me sing so we'd like to sing it for you now."Spike says gruffly as he lets his eyes drift closed and his fingers find his chords.

Angel looks faintly panicked but as the familiar tune pours through Spike's guitar his past is now his present and the tension drains away as he takes a deep breath and leans closer to Spike and sings the words of the song in a softly accented Gaelic harmonization. The sound of the Gaelic words form a pleasantly haunting refrain to the words that Spike is singing in English and they all know that for the second time tonight they're hearing something very special.

By a lonely prison wall, I heard a young girl calling
Michael, they have taken you away,
For you stole Trevelyan's corn,
So the young might see the morn.
Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay.

Low lie the fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry.

By a lonely prison wall, I heard a young man calling
Nothing matters, Mary, when you're free
Against the famine and the crown,
I rebelled, they cut me down.
Now you must raise our child with dignity.

Low lie the fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry.

By a lonely harbor wall, she watched the last star fall
As the prison ship sailed out against the sky
Sure she'll wait and hope and pray, for her love in Botany Bay
It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry.

Low lie the fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry.

It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry.

The crowd explodes to its collective feet amidst thunderous applause but for one couple the sound is drowned out by their hearts that may be stilled but never silent. Fred smiles at Wes and moves forward slowly so as not to draw the pair's attention and retrieves Spike's guitar as Maria makes her way stealthily around the side and retrieves the case. The pair share an understanding smile as they carefully pack Spike's precious handmade guitar safely back into its thickly cushioned case.

When they look up from the now secured guitar the small stage is empty and they look around curiously. Wes and Clem chuckle and point towards a door out to the deck standing open and they shrug in unison and chuckle again. Maria and Fred look at each other shrug and decide to join in the chuckling as they carry the guitar between them and return to Clem and Wes.

"I had no idea that Angel could sing like that! Lorne told me he reminded him of a cat being boiled in a pot of water when he sings but that was beautiful really." Wes looks amazed and a little confused.

"Lorne's never heard him singing with Spike." Fred says with a fond smile.

"Why do I get the feeling that you somehow know more about the relationship between those two than I do even though I used to study them?" Wes asks suspiciously.

Fred smiles enigmatically. "You'll never sum up the lives those two have led in a million books Wesley. Spike and I talked a lot when he was incorporeal and I've learned a lot about him; none of which I'm planning to repeat." Fred almost laughs out loud at the disappointed pout on Wesley's face. "Spike is actually very well educated; he's very smart and charming when you get past the façade he uses to shield himself from most of the people around him. He's the most loyal man I've ever met, he's a good person." Fred's fingertips trace the cameo at her throat, startled as she feels another set of fingers gently tracing over its contours.

"This is beautiful." Wes says quietly. His brow furrows as something brushes the edge of his conscious mind with the tingle of a familiar awareness. "...And it's magic." Wes lets his hand fall away. "He gave that to you; Spike; didn't he?" He doesn't need to wait for Fred's shy nod to know that he's right. "What does the enchantment do?"

"It lets me know when he's nearby and I know if he's well or hurt and it lets me call him when I need him, wherever I am and wherever he is, he'll hear me if I call for his help. And I have called him."

A suspicion darkens Wesley's eyes. "What really happened to Knox, Fred? You called Spike didn't you and he came?"

Fred looks away before she nods. "He came back to LA with Gabriel. I don't know where they took Knox or that bizarre sarcophagus that he tried to trick me into examining; I was just glad that he was gone." Fred says quietly.

"So you don't know what they did to Knox?" Wes asks, surprised that the usually contentious Fred would neglect to find out just what happened to Knox despite his creepy stalker tendencies.

"Spike said that he dropped him down a well... but I think that he was joking." Fred admits.

A laugh is startled out of Wesley as he can almost imagine Spike dropping Knox down a well and wishing he could have been there to watch. He sobers as he realises that Fred called on Spike for help rather than him and that he arrived in answer to her summons. "You're close aren't you; you and Spike? You knew where he was all along didn't you; or at least knew how to reach him and you didn't say anything. And he sent you that cameo, an expensive cameo unless I miss my guess."

Maria discreetly slips the guitar away from Fred and hands it to Clem and taking his hand leads him into the crowd towards the table of refreshments table.

Fred steps closer to Wes and cups his cheek. "Spike is very important to me Wesley." Wes drops his eyes but Fred catches him and lifts his head so that he can see her eyes. "He's the much, much older brother that I've never had but there isn't and there has never been anything romantic between us."

"But, but he flirts with you." Wes says blushing and looking away.

Fred chuckles and wraps her arms around Wesley's waist and hugs him. "Spike flirts with almost everyone if he likes them Wesley, it's just his way." Fred's smile turns decidedly wicked. "He's even flirted with you but I don't think you noticed."

Wes blushes furiously and looks away but he can't ignore the faint rush of heat the floods his belly at the thought that the beautiful younger Vampire would have found him worthy of his flirting skills. Contrary to what anyone else knows, he had noticed Spike's flirtatious manner towards him and others on several occasions.

"I'm very fond of Spike and I love him but I'm not in love with him. I... I sort of like someone else." Fred says shyly, letting go of his waist and stepping back as she looks away shyly.

Wes catches her hand and pulls her back as he holds it and leans down just brushing his lips lightly against hers. "I kind of like someone too."

Fred smiles happily and steps closer and hugs Wesley again; tucking her face against his chest shyly and sighing as he pulls her closer and wraps his arms around her.
 

Chapter Fourteen

Angel tightens his grip on Spike's wrist as he tows him towards Spike's SUV. "How long is it until we arrive, Spike?" He demands in a growl, thrusting his hand into the pocket of Spike's jeans and retrieving his keys and jamming his thumb on the alarm remote to deactivate it.

"We're a little over halfway there so less than an hour." Spike says breathlessly as Angel throws open the rear door of the SUV and picks Spike up and all but tosses him inside before climbing in after him.

Spike is sprawled on his back and Angel climbs over him and pins him to the dark leather. "Sing."

"What are you bloody going on about Angel, we just finished singing." Spike shakes his head and shoves at Angel's shoulders and rocks his hips trying to lever him off.

Angel catches his hands and forces them against the leather of the seat and throws his thigh over his legs and uses his leverage to hold Spike down. "You sang for them, now sing for me." Angel demands.

Spike relaxes against the seat and looks up at Angel from beneath the curtain of his thick lashes and slowly draws his tongue across his lower lip. "And what do you want me to sing for you Angel?" He tugs his hands free and runs them up and down Angel's side in a tender gliding motion. "Do you want me to sing you something soft and romantic; do you want to be wooed Angel?" Spike slips his hands around to the small of Angel's back and lets them drift over his Armani tailored slacks, cupping the curves under his palms. "Or do you want me to sing something passionate and unapologetic?" He suddenly yanks Angel hard into him as he drives his hips up. "Do you want to be taken Angel and wrung until your body is drained dry?" Spike suddenly releases him and relaxes back against the seat again, drawing one of his palms up in a slow glide over Angel's chest until it rests over his stilled heart. "Do you want to hear a love song that makes you long for the days when this was beating so fast that you could feel it pounding throughout your whole body; do you want to be loved Angel?" He uses his free hand to prop up so that he can press his lips against the bone behind Angel's ear. "Ask it and so it shall be." He whispers.

Angel moans and collapses over Spike, driving them both down against the welcome cushioning of the seat. "You know... you know...? I want to be wooed... taken... loved... you know what I'm asking."

"And you know that I'll give it to you, but not for free. You don't walk back into my life with a get out of jail free card and everything goes back to how it was before. I don't want what we had before; I want what we can have now." Spike whispers, knowing that he can hear him easily. "It was your right once to have me where you wanted me and however you wanted me to be but now you'll have to prove to me that you're the one who has the right to walk beside me. All you've proven til now is that you're good at leaving and running away." Spike swipes his tongue over the sensitive skin behind his ear in a slow sensual glide. "You were coward enough to run before, are you going to be man enough to stay and fight this time? If you're not Angel then let me up and get back on that jet and go find Buffy because I'm not accepting anything less than everything you have to give."

"When have I ever run away from a fight with you?" Angel demands with a groan.

"This isn't a fight Angel; this is life, not one of those stupid pissing contests we're constantly getting into. If that's what amuses you then fine, if Cavemen and Astronauts got into a fight who would win?"

"Who in the fucking hell cares who would win that, Spike? That's a stupid question! Here's a better one? Are you going to sing or am I going to have to find some other way to amuse myself for the next hour?" Angel growls. Spike relaxes against the seat and taps his fingertip against his bottom lip, clearing considering his options. A growl is all the warning that Spike gets before Angel's face shifts to his Demon and he pounces driving his fangs deep into the scar on his neck and sucking greedily.

Spike chuckles through a moan as he drives his neck up hard, driving Angel's teeth in deeper and sighing as he feels his blood being drawn out in a slow leisurely feeding that belies the violence of Angel's pounce. He writhes against the leather and the weight and strength of Angel's body, winding his legs around his hips and letting his head fall back limply.

Shadows
Now curtain the moon
But faith swears
It will shine again soon
Shine with love
You've been hiding from me

Your kiss
Has hindered the day
A longing
That won't go away
You just keep knocking
And waking my heart
Like daylight chasing the dark

I can exist being caught by your kiss
Willingly
Or grant you control
Of my body and soul
Ask it and so it shall be....

Spike lowers his voice to a husky purr as he crawls across the seat and into Angel's lap, sweeping his tongue along his throat and chin reclaiming the trailing remains of his blood so recently taken in such a pleasurable manner. He smoothes his palms up Angel's heaving chest and slowly curls around his lapels before throwing his weight backward and forcing Angel to follow and settle back over him.

Shadows
Now curtain the moon
Still faith swears
It will shine again soon
Shine with love
You've been hiding from me
With that love
You've been hiding from me

I can exist being caught by your kiss
Willingly
Or grant you control
Of my body and soul
Ask it and so it shall be

Ask it and so it shall be

Epilogue

The trip to Port Townsend passed pleasantly for them all, and if anyone wondered why Angel changed out of his Armani suit and into jeans and a thick cashmere sweater, they were discrete enough not to ask.

Gabriel was indeed waiting for them when they arrived and gladly lent a hand in transporting their things to their Hotel suites and to the storage unit. Much to Spike's surprise Angel was actually pleasant and charming and it made him wonder about the serious benefits of regular trips to the back of his truck for them both.

With Wes and Fred in tow Gabriel offered a tour of the town but no one seemed surprised when he and Angel chose to stay behind in his Suite.

"So this is Port Townsend, Washington." Angel muses from his position in front of the large plate glass picture window that dominates his suite.

"No this is... home." He says as he walks up to stand beside him and look out at the town that has become his home.

He's startled when Angel's hand slips into his and interlocks their fingers, pulling their joined hands up to press a tender kiss to the back of his hand before letting them fall back to their side.

"I think I'm going to like it here." Angel turns to look at Spike and then slowly back to look out the window. "Oh yes and one other thing, Spike?"

He turns his face towards him and tilts his head inquiringly, his eyebrow quirking up in a silent question.

"The Astronauts, definitely, the astronauts."

A slow smile curves Spike's lips upward and he turns back to their shared observation of what lies beyond the window. Yes things are definitely looking interesting around here.
 

Writer's Dedication: This story is for my daughter Myst, Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas Lil Bear from Momma Bear JINXI.

Writer's Special Credits: Special Credits going out to Mandie for the invaluable help in polishing this work and dotting the I's and crossing the T's that I missed along the way.

As usual most of the songs used are available for your listening pleasure so if you'd like to hear them drop me an email, you'll find the address listed at the start of this story. For some of these songs, the files are pretty large so please send your email to me from an account large enough to accept the files or I can make them available by other means if that won't work for you, just ask :o)

**** DISTRIBUTION OF THIS WORK IS LIMITED TO ARCHIVES, WEBSITES, ECT. THAT ALREADY ARCHIVES MY WORK ONLY. I WON'T BE RELEASING THIS TO ANY OTHER NEW SITES FOR DISPLAY AS IT'S A GIFT FOR MYST AND SHE GETS TO DICTATE WHERE IT IS SHOWN, DISPLAYED, ECT. IF YOU WANT TO ARCHIVE THIS WORK THEN PLEASE EMAIL ME THE REQUEST AND I'LL FORWARD IT TO MYST FOR CONSIDERATION. THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ MY WORK AND MERRY CHRISTMAS! ****

~ JINX, November 16, 2004. Happy Holidays and may the blessings of the season be yours. ~