FAMILY

AUTHOR: Little Mouse (elf_night@hotmail.com)

DISCLAIMER: Once again, Joss', not mine. Still a lucky man.

WARNINGS: For explicit m/m stuff, and violence, and remembered abuse, and language, and lots of other stuff.

ARCHIVE: Please ask first.

SUMMARY: AU! Spike isn't in 'love' with Buffy, but has told Giles' the story of Drusilla turning him. He has the chip, but no soul. Angel's in LA. Anya doesn't exist. I moved forward the 'meltdown' of Spike's chip a bit.

STORY: Spike's little story of his turning isn't the exact truth... Angel loses his soul - or does he? and starts gathering his scattered family. Spike insists that isn't going to include him. He's so very, very wrong...

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Spike leaned against his Sire - he had to, Angelus’ arm was around him too tightly for him to move away - and stared through the glass at Riley Finn. The soldier was sitting, slumped over and dejected, on a ratty little cot in the corner of an otherwise barren room. The only other object in the whole place was a bucket under the bed, and Spike didn’t even want to think about what that was for!

"So he can’t see us at all?" Angelus asked, touching the glass, interested. "Is this one of those two-way mirrors like they have in police stations?"

"Oh, no, it’s even better," Deborah smiled, standing on Angelus’ other side. "It’s a magic window - all that soldier sees is a plain grey wall."

"Excellent," Angelus purred, reaching out with his free hand and stroking her hair. "You do lovely work, My Magic One."

Deborah flushed with pride and pleasure at his use of his old pet name for her. "Thank you, Sire."

"What have you learned from him?" Angelus asked, turning his attention back to the man in the room, still stroking her hair.

"I put him under thrall, and he admitted that the chips do start breaking down after a few months. They start shocking harder, and eventually, they start shocking the ‘subjects’, as he put it, randomly instead of to correct specific behavior."

"And what did he say was the point of this?" Angelus growled, his arm tightening even further around Spike, "just to torture them?"

"Well, no," Deborah looked more upset than Spike would have expected. "He said that it was just a side effect, because they never expected any of the test subjects to live for more than a month or two."

Angelus growled, and Spike stared up in surprise at the sudden appearance of his true face, his eyes glowing an unholy amber and his fangs looking even longer than usual.

"William," his Sire said, "how long did they have you in that place?"

Spike shrugged - he’d never been very concerned with dates, so he had no idea. "I dunno. Prolly a couple weeks."

"But you don’t know for sure?"

"There weren’t windows and the bloody lights were always on," Spike grumbled. "I hate sleepin’ with a light on. Anyway, it never got dark, so I dunno how long it was."

"Would the Watcher and the Slayer know?" another voice asked, and Penn was standing on his other side, glaring at Riley Finn almost as hard as Angelus was.

Spike shrugged. "Dunno."

"Well, we’ll find out soon enough," Angelus growled, still in game face. "They should be here in a few minutes." He turned away from the window, and Spike turned with him, since his Sire’s arm had apparently become welded to his shoulders.

"If they’re comin’, do I get more clothes than this?" he asked, fidgeting with the edge of the towel that was wrapped around his waist.

"But you look so nice," Deborah said, leaning around their Sire and giving him a long, slow lookover - then a wink.

Spike scowled; Angelus and Penn laughed.

"I suppose I should put something else on you," Angelus finally said, still chuckling as he started back toward his room with his unwilling captive. "I don’t think I would enjoy seeing the Slayer or the others ogling you."

"Oh, but it’s all right if dear Deb does?" Spike snarked, thumping down in a chair and watching as Angelus opened the closet and began sorting through some clothes.

"Deborah is Family," Angelus said absently, pausing at a dark blue garment and looking thoughtfully between it and his sulking Childe.

"And that just makes it all peachy," Spike muttered, slumping down even further.

"I think this will look very attractive on you," Angelus ignored his remark, removing the item he’d been looking at and holding it up. It was a dark blue robe of some sort of soft cloth, thin, with a high collar and long sleeves. It looked like it was meant to be ankle-length on Angelus, which meant it would drag the ground behind Spike. The Aurelius seal was embroidered on it, and it was trimmed with black silk cording. A matching black corded belt hung from loops at the waist.

"I ain’t wearing that poofy thing," Spike said, not budging from the chair or his slumped position.

"I’m not giving you much choice," his Sire said, smiling at him almost sweetly.

Very disturbing, Spike thought, not for the first time, and he hide a shudder. Angelus wasn’t supposed to smile like that. It was in a law book, somewhere, he was pretty sure. Anyway... "What? Ya sayin’ it’s that thing or the towel?"

"No, Childe," the smile got terrifyingly sweeter, "I’m saying it’s this or your skin."

"Naked?!" Spike stared at him.

"Yes."

"In front of Buffy?!"

"Yes."

Spike considered that. It would be hilarious to see the shock on the Slayer’s face, and he wasn’t ashamed of himself - he’d lost most of the body-shyness he’d had when he’d been William the Bloody Awful Poet - but he knew that it could very quickly turn from ‘let’s embarrass the Slayer!’ to ‘let’s laugh our heads off at Spike!’.

"All right, all right..." he grumbled, getting up and reaching for the robe. Angelus stopped him, though, turning him around and putting the robe on his Childe himself. "M’not a bloody doll," Spike continued to grumble.

Angelus chuckled, stepping around to face him. He adjusted the lapels, stroking the fabric to make it lay perfectly and using the opportunity to stroke his Childe’s smooth skin, too. Then he tied the belt and stepped back to observe him.

"You look delicious," he purred, "the color really brings out your eyes."

"M’not a girl, either," Spike snapped back, "I don’t care if it matches my eyes!"

"I do," his Sire said, taking his arm and leading him from the room. "I like all my Childer to look as beautiful as possible; you’re just the icing on the cake."

"Wot’s that s’posed ta mean?" Spike demanded, wishing he could lag behind, but Angelus’ firm hold on him prevented that.

"Oh, nothing," Angelus teased, "just that everyone looks good tonight, and although I prefer you unclothed, now you look as nice as the others."

"I look like I’m playin’ dress-up in my mummy’s nightgown," Spike snarked as he nearly tripped over the too-long hem. "And you not lettin’ me gel this mess down," his yanked a handful of curls with his free hand, "don’t help any!"

"But they’re so cute," Angelus teased, pulling Spike’s hand away and smoothing the rumpled curls down as neatly as possible - which wasn’t much. "They’re just as pretty as you, and as rebellious."

"You are such an absolute ponce," Spike sighed.

"Mmm, I’m not the one who used to write those pretty little poems," Angelus purred at him.

Spike’s glare went up a notch. "I don’t write that stupid stuff any more!" He was lying - he still wrote every chance he got, but the Poof didn’t need to know that and none of his notebooks were here to betray him - "and anyway, they weren’t pretty! They were awful; everyone said so."

"I liked them."

"You did not! You never even read ‘em!"

"Oh, yes, I most certainly did."

"When? I never showed any of ‘em to ya!" His Sire had never shown any interest in his possessions, either, as far as he could remember, except to turn up his nose and call most of it ‘rubbish’.

Angelus didn’t answer him - he just gave a soft ‘I Know More Than You Know’ chuckle and then opened a door, pulling his recalcitrant Childe into the big, formal Sitting Room. It was another dark-paneled room, full of warmly glowing cherry-wood, deep couches, elegant chairs and tables, a roaring fire in the fireplace, dark red velvet curtains on the walls. Expensive oriental rugs - antiques, if he knew Angelus - were scattered on the floor and one wall held a shelf of beautifully bound books. The only jarring note was some metal folding chairs, looking old and battered and arranged in a careless half-circle, facing the sofas.

There was only one member of his Family already there - a tall, lean form sat on one sofa, with a leather-bound tome in his lap. "Tomas?"

"Yes, Sire?" The dark-haired vampire looked up from the book he was reading and smiled at the two who had entered.

"Are you prepared?"

"Yes," Tomas nodded.

"Good," Angelus said, pushing William down beside of Tomas. "You sit here, and be a bit quiet, all right? That way you can find out what’s going on."

"I though you’d just tell me!" Spike protested, starting to struggle when Tomas slid an arm around him.

"Be still," his Brother whispered, and wound his fingers into the thick curls until his palm was resting firmly against the base of William’s skull. Then he guided his youngest brother down until his head was resting firmly against Tomas’ shoulder.

Spike twisted his head - as far as he could - to glare at him. "What do you think your..."

"William," Angelus chided him, "there are reasons for this, and I can’t explain now; our guests will be here any moment. Ah," his face broke out into a wide smile as the rest of his Childer entered the room, all of them beautifully dressed in their old-fashioned dresses and suits. "Good, you’re here."

Daniel, Deborah, Lucy and Penn went straight to their Sire, and they started talking in low voices. Spike would have tried to eavesdrop, but Drusilla flung herself at him, wrapping both arms around him and landing a smacking kiss on his cheek.

"You look much better, my prince," she said happily, "Daddy’s nice blood is making your eyes shine again."

"That so?" He asked, automatically shifting to make room for her as she cuddled up next to him. It was old, ingrained habit to slide an arm around her waist, and he felt a tiny bit of the tension that had kept him tightly wound for days ease when she settled her head into the crook of his neck. They had sat like this - at theaters, opera houses, ballets, movies - for years. Knowing that she was ‘different’ now made him keep a wary eye on her, but it still felt good to have a familiar body against him again.

A quick glance around as the others started taking their seats showed his Sire gazing at him with a pleased look in his eyes. Spike frowned, wondering what that was all about, but then a knock on the not-too-distant front door of the house distracted him.

He was soon glad enough for the bathrobe, even if it was poofy, as a minion escorted the Slayer, the Scoobies, and some of Angel’s humans into the room.

All of them stopped short and stared at him.

Spike resisted the urge to wriggle with embarrassment, concentrating instead on the familiar shape and scent of Dru pressed against him on one side, the unfamiliar presence of Tomas on the other. He didn’t even need Tomas’ fingers, still wrapped in his hair, to hold his head down on Tomas’ shoulder.

The look on Buffy’s face when she saw him, cuddled up with Dru and a male, was enough to make him stay right where he was.

"Spike?" a timid voice queried before anyone else could speak, and Dawn was peeking around Xander, giving him a wistful look.

"Hey, Bit," Spike smiled at her.

She frowned back at him. "Are you all right? You look like you’re sick?"

"Don’t be stupid, Dawn," Buffy snapped at her, "vampires don’t get sick!"

"But..."

"Dawn! You promised if we brought you that you’d be quiet."

"Sorry," the teenager said grudgingly, subsiding. She didn’t even perk up when Xander slid a comforting arm around her shoulders.

Spike frowned, but he didn’t say anything. He was still hyper-aware of Tomas’ fingers in his hair, cradling the back of his still-tender skull. He wasn’t going to do anything that might cause that grip to change from gentle to crushing.

Not yet.

"Sit down," Angelus, lounging like a big cat in his throne-like chair, motioned toward the folding chairs. "Let’s get this over with."

Buffy looked back and forth between the plain metal chairs and the luxurious couches that Angelus’ Childer were draped over. She scowled; but the others were already sitting down, so she thumped into a seat between Tara and Giles.

"Why are we here?" Giles spoke before Angelus could. "We’ve already had our regular meeting today - why did we have to rush over here?"

"Yeah, it’s past time for patrol," Buffy said, with an attempt at haughtiness.

Spike snorted softly - he knew the blond girl didn’t care that patrolling was behind put off - she used every excuse she could think of to get out of it, anyway.

She also heard the snort, and turned a death glare on him - for about three seconds. Then she faltered, her expression changing to surprise and bewilderment.

Spike was confused, too, at the sudden change, until he heard the almost sub-vocal growl to his right, and its higher-pitched echo on his left. A quick glance from the corners of his eyes - so he wouldn’t have to move his head against the grip of Tomas’ fingers - and he saw both Dru and Tomas in game face, matching the Slayer’s glare with amber-eyed death glares of their own.

Well, that explained Buffy’s look, but Spike was still confused. He’d thought Tomas was there to keep him in his place - literally and figuratively - and that Dru had joined them just because she was Dru. He’d long ago given up any attempt to figure out the way her mind worked.

He would never have imagined that either of them had taken their places in order to protect him.

Well, he still didn’t really think so, he decided, scowling and making his first attempt to draw away from Tomas. They were obviously trying to put on a display of strength for the Slayer and her groupies, and he didn’t want any part of their posturing!

Tomas’ fingers did tighten when he stirred, but it never approached the point of pain. It was just enough pressure to tell Spike that his Brother didn’t want him to move. Drusilla leaned harder against him at the same time, and he conceded momentary defeat, slumping back to his former position. Dru gave him a discreet little hug and Tomas’ fingertips rubbed gently at his scalp, and he got a mental image of owners patting an obedient dog.

Oh, they were all going to pay.

This was no fun at all - he wanted to start some revenge, but he’d had someone with him every bloody minute since he’d opened his eyes this evening - he hadn’t had a chance to get any of the revenge that he’d planned, and now he had to add to it!

He ignored the meeting that was starting, tuning out his Sire’s rumbling voice, Buffy’s shrill one, and the two Watchers quieter tones. He started and discarded several plans for paying his Family back, and was just wondering how badly Tomas would beat him if he drew mustaches on all the demons in his books, when the words that Giles was saying actually registered in his head.

"But why are you so determined to find one of the Initiative doctors?" The Watcher’s voice was deeply suspicious as he stared at Angelus, already polishing his glasses furiously.

"Oh, please, Giles," Angelus smirked at him, "you’ve got quite a good brain, or so it always seemed - why do you think I want an Initiative doctor?"

"I sincerely hope that I’m wrong, but - are you planning on trying to remove Spike’s chip?"

"No way!" Buffy screeched.

"So what if I am?"

"You can’t!" Buffy tried to take over the conversation, "He - he’ll start killing people again!"

"He’ll behave exactly as my other Childer are behaving." Angelus paused, looking from his elegant, well-dressed and perfectly groomed Childer to Spike, with his rumpled curls, who had already rolled up the sleeves of the robe and thoroughly wrinkled the rest of it by wrapping it around his legs to keep them warm. He looked adorable - especially to his Sire - but there was a huge difference.

"He’ll act like the others so far as feeding is concerned," Angelus corrected himself, grinning at the amused looks on his Childer’s faces and the puzzled look on Spike’s.

"Yeah, sure he will," Buffy snorted, "that’s why those two are hanging on to him. I’m surprised you even let him out of his room - he obviously just wants to get away from you!"

Angelus expression turned cold. "He’s not going anywhere."

"He ran once, and it sure took you a while to catch him!" Buffy was upset, and lashing out in the only way she could right now. "And they are pinning him in place!"

"This is none of your concern..." Angelus started, but she kept going.

"If you’re so sure he’s not going anywhere," she grinned nastily, "then let him come on patrol with us."

"Absolutely not," Angelus snapped.

"Because he’ll run," it was her turn to smirk.

"No," Angelus surprised Spike yet again. "Dru, Princess, hold out your arm."

Drusilla obediently extended her left arm. She was wearing a deep-rose colored dress, with elbow length sleeves. A frill of lace encircled her arm, setting off the ivory paleness of it, and making her arm look dainty and fragile.

"Drusilla has always been the most delicate of my Childer," Angelus was apparently off on some pointless new topic, Spike decided. "We’ve worried over her diet and her physical frailties for decades. Dru?"

His Princess apparently knew exactly what he wanted; she wrapped her fingers in Spike’s and held his arm out with hers.

Spike blinked, then stared. Bloody hell, he never realized he was that skinny! His arm used to make three of Drusilla’s frail little bones, and it was still bigger - barely. His wrist bones protruded, his skin was sickly white compared to her glowing ivory tones, and his fingers looked brittle and spidery.

"And that is why my William is not going on patrol with you," Angelus growled, "because you’ve starved him to the point that I can scarcely let him out of my sight for fear that he’ll be dust when I return. And all the while, Watcher," Angelus voice turned venomous, "You were telling me that he was healthy, happy, and perfectly fine."

"He never told us he was starving," Giles protested.

Spike opened his mouth to challenge that, but Tomas’ fingers tugged gently again and he scowled, but kept quiet.

"I’m not so sure of that," Angelus snarled, "but even if he didn’t say a word, surely you have eyes? Or is ‘Watcher’ just a catchy nickname you people picked because all the really cool names were gone?"

Spike saw Xander bite his lip in an attempt not to laugh at that - and saw, further, that Penn was watching the boy, his eyes lit with amusement.

Huh - that could be interesting. Was Perfect Penn interested in Xander the klutz, the donut-boy ...the White Knight that the Slayer barely acknowledged? Well, the kid was kinda cute, but he wondered if Penn knew what he was getting himself into... he wasn’t sure if his Brother even knew what Star Trek was!

"You and I will discuss this more... thoroughly later," Angelus’ voice dragged Spike’s attention back to the conversation. Watcher was in trouble - that was Angelus’ I’m-Angry-Enough-To-Strangle-You tone. "Right now, all I want to know is your price?"

"Our ...price?" Giles echoed, looking distinctly nervous about that promised discussion.

"Your price for helping us find an Initiative doctor," Angelus snarled impatiently.

"I don’t think..."

"You can help us find Riley," Buffy interrupted.

"What?" Angelus stared at her.

Spike was the one had to bite his lip to keep from laughing, now.

"Riley disappeared last night; one of his friends told me he radioed in that he had spotted an unusual Hostile."

Beside him, Drusilla was trembling with suppressed laughter.

Spike bit his lip harder.

"He’s probably dead - or Turned," Angelus said easily, being very careful not to look at any of his Childer.

Buffy’s lip trembled and her eyes watered. "I won’t believe that - but even if it did happen, I owe it to him to... to take care of it if it did. So that’s our price."

"Riley Finn for an Initiative Doctor?" Angelus leaned forward, dark eyes sharp and glittering.

"Yes."

"Buffy..." Giles tried to caution her.

"Giles, we have to find him!"

"I think so, too," Willow spoke up for the first time.

Angel’s humans and the other Scoobies stayed completely silent. Except for Dawn, they hadn’t said a word since they got here - but then, they were staring at the vampires like rabbits stared at wolves, so that was no big surprise.

"Very well," Giles conceded defeat quicker than Spike had expected.

"A deal, then," Angelus rumbled, more than pleased. "You bring me an Initiative doctor, and I’ll see to it that you get Riley Finn back - one way or another."