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Lindsay's Angels December 13, 2004 Hyperion, 11.49am "Hello, Angel Investigations..We help the hopeless?" "Yes?" "Yes?" "Oh my God! YES! ANGEL!" Shrieking in delight, Joyce waved the phone around her head as she jumped up and down on the spot. Tears streaming down her face, the excited woman continued to scream for Angel to come to the phone. Footsteps clattering towards her, Joyce shrieked into the phone again as both Riley and Graham came running from the kitchen. "Joyce..are you alright? What's the matter?" Heart beating a mile a minute, Riley stared as his former lover's mother as she continued to call for Angel. "You have Doyle with you...Francis Doyle? Doyle who is a charming Irishman with dark hair and green eyes?" "Your not sure about the green eyes...he does have black hair doesn't he? Oh my God! I can't believe it!" Once again the tall blond male asked if the older woman was alright, only to be gestured at to be quiet for the moment. With a glance at an equally worried Graham, the two ex-soldiers waited until all would be explained. "Thank you..thank you so much, you have *no* idea of how happy this makes us all. Sorry, what was that again?...Oh, your address, how silly of me...of course!" Pen snatched from the scratched desk, Joyce made sure she wrote down the address correctly, reading it out for the caller a few times before making her final good byes. "Thanks once again, may God bless you for this....what? No..no Cordelia isn't here at the moment but I'll make sure to give her the message when she gets back...Goodbye!" "God bless you? What was that about?" Wiping hastily at her still watering eyes, the sobbing woman sniffled a huge smile at the two puzzled men. "That was Samuel Lapp on the phone. He says that a Doyle Francis is staying with him at the moment." "Ah..don't you mean Francis Doyle?" Graham easily dodged the oncoming slap that was aimed for his upper arm, allowing himself a broad grin at what was quite possibly the best news he had heard since the Magic Box incident. It was great news. It meant that they were a step closer to finding the rest of the missing friends. Even with the PTB inspired help from Drusilla, the newly established L.A. team had been unable to make any progress in their search. "Smartarse! You know what I mean. Apparently, Francis is in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. That's why I told Mr Lapp that God would bless him." "Uhhhh, why?" The smaller soldier was unable to deflect the light punch from his friend, the chuckling from his two friends continuing to puzzle him. "Lancaster County...you know 'Witness'?....Pennsylvania Dutch...not ringing any bells? No...Jesus, Graham - Surely even you have heard of the Amish?" "Your shitting me right?" "And we have a winner!" Muttering that his best friend was an assehole at times, Graham found that he had to sit down. A few steps forward and he sat heavily on Joyce's desk, scattering some of the loose sheets of paper from the desktop. His smile grew wider as he watched Joyce finish hugging Riley. As the woman flew towards him, he stood up and gathered the smaller woman into his arms, neither of them noticing as Riley ran towards the hotel's main staircase. Without thinking he lowered his head, giving Joyce a lingering kiss on her lips, pleased when he felt a warm tongue edge its way into his mouth. Graham could taste vanilla and strawberries interlaced with camomile tea. It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted and he knew that nothing would ever be able to take its place. Clasping the soft warm body closer to him, he felt the first stirrings of his cock as Joyce obligingly moulded her body next to his. Finally the need to breathe got too much for them, both pulling away slowly, Joyce's tongue giving Graham's lips one last light lick. The blush exploded over the soldier's face and clearing his throat, he let his arms drop from around Joyce's waist. "You do know where you have your hands now don't you?" With a squeak and a deeper blush, Graham instantly took his hands off the older woman's buttocks only to be both shocked but pleased when Joyce deliberaetly replaced them and held them firmly in place. Unsuccessfully, the suddenly shy man tried to apologise for his actions, Joyce cutting him off in mid-speech. "I like you Graham Miller...A lot. Don't apologise, if I didn't like it, I would have twisted your nuts by now...don't you worry, my daughter made sure that I was well prepared for the modern dating world when I told her that I was thinking of dating again." "Ahhh! Nothing like having a Slayer to give you dating tips, huh?" Both smiling at each other softly, they stood in the comfortable position even as they heard an excited Riley and a still sleepy Angel come towards them. Joyce tore herself from the comforting clasp with a tiny feeling of reluctance to envelop the yawning vampire in a hard hug. "So, what's up then?" "You mean Riley didn't tell you?" "Well obviously not if I'm asking?" Refusing to let the vampire's crankiness get to her, Joyce felt the tears start again as she told Angel about the phone call. Angel stood stock still for a moment, letting his brain process the new information. Finally, after all this time, something had gone their way. The vampire felt his legs wobble and with Joyce's guidance, he sat on her desk in the spot that Graham had so recently vacated. Like the smaller soldier, Angel asked if the human woman was serious about the Amish being involved. "Yes I am, I don't think Mr Lapp has even used a phone before, I mean, he was yelling into the phone and speaking so slowly, I thought he was a bit..you know...*special* until he told me where he was calling from." "What the hell is Doyle doing all the way in Pennsylvania, and Lancaster County in particular?" "Who knows? But I can book a plane for you as soon as you give me your credit card." In a daze, Angel pulled out his wallet, passing it to Joyce without question. His friend had been found. Doyle was coming home. He joined in the excited chatter with the two ex-soldiers as they all listened to Joyce make travel arrangements for the vampire. "Angel, which one do you prefer...Philadelphia or Baltimore? Both are less than two hours drive from Lancaster County." "Whichever Joyce, just book me on the first one after sunset." "OK, Baltimore it is then." Making the final arrangements for a plane leaving L.A. at half an hour past the estimated sunset, the woman asked for a rental car with extra dark window tinting be available for the vampire at Baltimore airport. Lincoln chosen for the large trunk space just in case Angel found himself out in the open during daylight hours, she reeled off the Mastercard no. from memory, only looking at the card for the expiry date. A small thing but she could never remember it. Details gone over once again, Joyce confirmed that all were correct before hanging up. Computer switched on, she joined in the happy gossip while waiting for the hard drive to warm up. "Do you want me to go and tell Wesley? This is going to be such good new for him, God only knows how much progress he's going to make once he hears this...just imagine how he'll be after a visit from Doyle?" "Yeah..yeah I would. Thanks Riley, I appreciate it. I know you all still think that I'm making a mistake allowing Wesley to stay in the hospital but please bear with me, OK?" At the suddenly serious looks on his three friends' faces, Angel knew that today was the day something else was going to be delivered from his still missing Childe. All were hoping that it wasn't going to be too bad for the bleached blond. The vampire was ringing the hospital morning and night, enquiring about his lover's health. So far it had been pretty good news. Wesley's confused state of mind and personality change had been put down to a clash between the anti-rejection drugs for his tongue, mild prescription anti-depressants and a concoction of Xander's left over herbal stress release tablets. Angel had been informed that if taken separately, all the tablets had the ability to do a lot of good but when taken together and in such large unsupervised amounts, the clashing side-effects were patently obvious. Anne, the hospital therapist assigned to Wesley, had been pleased to discover such a simple solution to a major problem, but wanted the malnourished man to stay in hospital until all traces of the herbal tablets left his system and Wesley had put some weight on. The only real problem left was the ex-watcher's almost non-existent self esteem and inability to speak properly. With speech counselling, Anne was confident that Wesley would be speaking close to normal eventually, the distorted image of self-worth however, was going to take longer. At the nods from his friends, the vampire sighed in relief that there would be no arguments just yet. With a small smile, he asked Joyce to pack a bag with some of Doyle's clothes and toiletries, giving the smaller woman a brief peck on the cheek as she passed him. Turning his attention back to the two ex-soldiers, he asked them if they would be able to handle their mysterious employer's requests if they got a phone call. "Yeah Angel, you know we can handle it. This is such good news...the others won't be far away now." His grin getting larger as Graham echoed Riley's sentiments, the three men were distracted from their happy thoughts as the phone rang. Crossing over to the hotels front counter, Angel absently scratched at his inner elbow. Intent on getting the opening spiel right for once, the vampire didn't take any notice as his sleeve rode up while scratching, baring his track marked skin to the horrified ex-soldiers. With a look between them, Riley and Graham made their way into the kitchen, Riley miming a 'drinking' motion at Angel. A shake of his head, Angel concentrated getting the details of a paying client. December 13, 2004 Hyperion, 7.18pm With one arm wrapped around Wesley's waist, Riley helped the exhausted man up the Hyperion's main flight of stairs, Joyce trailing a few steps behind them. Pausing for a few moments at the top of the first flight of stairs, Wesley nodded for them to continue forward. Shown into his old room, the ex-watcher silently mouthed his thanks to Joyce for getting all the destroyed furniture and soiled linen cleared away. Deposited on a bed that replaced his own broken and battered one complete with clean sheets and blankets, the weary man sighed as he was once again home. With a wave at the two hovering friends, he indicated for them to go as he rested before attempting to undress. "Would you like a cup of tea, something to eat? One of your milkshakes maybe?" "No thanths Joysh..but tiwrd...mihiit shweep." "No thanks Joyce..bit tired...might sleep." Resisting the urge to give a nervous giggle as she echoed Wesley's words in a perfect pitch and accent, she did however give in to the next temptation and gave the tired man a quick peck on the cheek. Riley's arm clutched, she steered them both out of the room, closing the door behind them so Wesley had some privacy. Fingers shaking as he fumbled with his shirt buttons, Wesley debated with himself as to whether it was worth getting undressed. It had been a long day for them all, Wesley in particular. As he thought back to the day's events, he was sure that he was going to sleep for the next week or so. The morning had been annoying, he had been subjected to a therapy session with Anne. There had been no escape for him as he had been forced to listen to the dark woman repeatedly tell Wesley that he still had a lot to offer the world. Something the still painfully thin man had denied each time until his lunch had been delivered and Anne had left. Never had he been so thankful for the tasteless muck the hospital called food. Reluctantly, he had drunk the vitamin-rich milkshake and had forced himself to eat every last spoonful of a butterscotch pudding that was allegedly jam-packed with essential amino acids after being threatened with being tube fed if he didn't. Only having just gotten rid of the bothersome tubes the day before, he had been choking down the last of his gelatinous pudding when Riley had poked his head around the door to his room. Wesley had been overjoyed to see the man, not having seen him since being admitted to the eating disorders ward at the hospital, attempting to apologise at once for his previous behaviour at the Hyperion. The ex-watcher had told the taller blond about being able to think clearer now that he was off everything except the medication for his tongue. The tortured sentences of regret had been waved off as Riley had informed the ex-Watcher of the mornings events. Wesley had been grinning like a madman about Doyle being found until Riley had told him of Joyce's new found abilities. Something that he hadn't believed until Joyce had been called into the room. Both of them had cried as the woman had repeated everything that Wesley had said in the man's own voice. It had been decided that Joyce had to be within a certain radius for her to display her abilities, not having done it since Wesley had been admitted to the hospital. The knowledge of what Joyce was capable of had given him a glimmer of hope that he wasn't totally useless after all. After a deep discussion, complete with Joyce echoing Wesley's every word, it had been decided that the ex-watcher would attempt to train the older woman in a series of simple magic skills, hopefully leading to bigger and better things. Admittedly, Joyce was nervous about getting the delicate hand and finger actions wrong even if she would be getting each word right. As far as Wesley was concerned, the first thing was to find a way for her to block the ability unless it was completely necessary. Once the agreement had been reached, Joyce had left to go to the supermarket, leaving Riley to inform Wesley about Spike's latest dismemberment. After Angel had told their mystery employer that Wesley would be staying in the hospital, a tiny gold and mauve package had appeared on the hotel's front desk. Once opened, all had been horrified to see two elongated canine teeth nestled in the box, fresh blood and flesh still covering them. With a shudder at the thought of Spike having his game face fangs ripped straight from his mouth, the weary ex-Watcher hurriedly lay on the bed as a dizzy spell threatened to tip him from his sitting position and onto the floor. It had taken all of his newly restored concentration to listen as Riley had told him of both ex-soldiers suspicions that Angel was using drugs, something that Wesley had started to laugh about until the taller blond had described the vampires frequent naps that had gotten to the point that they were almost every second day. What had stopped the strangled laughter had been Riley quietly telling him about seeing the track marks that decorated the pale flesh that morning. It had been this knowledge that had convinced Riley and Graham that Angel wasn't capable of making decisions regarding other people anymore, let alone himself. With that, Wesley had been informed that he was coming back to the hotel as soon as Angel boarded the plane for Baltimore, Graham giving the vampires room a complete overhaul to see where he was hiding the drugs. As Wesley had pointed out, Angel was living in a hotel with four floors and countless rooms, there was no guarantee that he was keeping them in his room if he was indeed on drugs. Nevertheless, he had agreed with the ex-soldier, saying that it couldn't hurt to scratch the possibility off the list. The ex-watcher hadn't argued, only nodding that it was a good idea. His heart had clenched at the possibility of Angelus getting free again. Logically, he knew that it wasn't possible after Giles and Willow had bound the vampire's soul to the Griffin tattoo that decorated his shoulder, but when dealing with demons and magic, anything could be made possible. It had been a suprisingly simple task, as long as just a single speck of the tattoo ink remained upon Angel's body, his soul was permanent. His head clearing a little, Wesley was jerked out of his thoughts as there was a knock at his door. He smiled tightly as he heard his invite to come in get echoed by Joyce. As Riley and Joyce came in, he nodded a hello to Graham who gave him a little wave, his stern expression never changing. Without a word, all three came forward as one, just stopping in front of the bed. "Whath thu mather?" "Whats the matter?" Joyce's echo dying off in a spate of tears, Wesley stared at the needles, large tablets and two vials being held in Graham's open hand. With a shaking hand, the ex-Watcher gathered up one of the vials, vision blurring as he tried to read the label, tears making their way down his face. He couldn't believe that Angel had sunk so low, to reach a stage that the only escape for him was to stick a needle in his arm. "I'm going to get one of the tablets analysed tomorrow but judging from the vials, its probably some animal thing...not sure what though." "Makths thenth, thu animul dwugth. Angleth isth a vwampire und bwug un ath thath." "Makes sense, the animal drugs. Angel is vampire and a big one at that." Nodding at Graham's words, Wesley leaned into Joyce's arms as she sat on the bed beside him, body shuddering with the effort not to start howling in front of the other two men. He knew that the proverbial shit would hit the fan as soon as Angel stepped through the Hyperion's doors. Wesley spoke everyone's immediate thought, echoed by Joyce. "Heth on dwugth und weth leth hum go unth geth Dooyl." "He's on drugs and we've let him go and get Doyle." December 14, 2004 Elder Lapp's farm, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. 8.01 pm "What the fuck do you mean he's discharged himself?" Pacing back and forth, the angry vampire kicked at the stray bits of straw that had fallen from the huge bales that occupied one half of the feed shed. His previous reluctance to be exposed to the chilly night was gone, only to be replaced with an anger that was doing it's best to burn him from the inside. His whole euphoria of being re-united with Doyle was rapidly fading to an idle flicker. "How can you possibly allow an obviously sick man to just walk right out....HOW?" "NO! I won't fucking well calm down..I..I just can't understand it. What did he do? Throw on some clothes and give you all a wave goodbye as he walked through the doors?" Head throbbing, Angel continued to pace, his long legs covering the width of the shed with ease. As the nurse on the other end of the phone continued to try and calm him down, the brunette felt his face ridges rise, the placating tone of the woman doing nothing to ease his fear of Wesley's condition. "Evaluation? He passed it? Wesley wasn't even in your goddamed hospital long enough to warrant an evaluation..you stupid fuc...hello? HELLO?" The brunette's body trembled with the need to destroy something, his eyes yellowing as the emotion of pure anger flowed through him. Mobile phone creaking in his hand as he tightened his grip, Angel very slowly and deliberately put the small device on the stone floor next to him and with a sedate kick, sent it skidding across the floor before he gave in to the temptation to bite it in half. Counting down from ten, the vampire found that as he reached the number two, he really wasn't in the mood to be calmed so quickly. As the distant bellows of the farm's cows reached his ears, the brunette wondered if Elder Lapp would miss a cow or two, the idea of ripping one apart in sheer rage suddenly appearing very tempting. Tripping over an uneven edge of a stone paving block, Angel felt his headache take a turn for the worse as his nerves frayed just a little more. As he steadied himself with a hand on a hay bale, the vampire gave the prickly bundle a solid punch with a clenched fist. Jaw tightening, he gave the defenceless stack another punch with his right fist..another with his left, which led to it being lashed at again with his right. Angel punched the nurses who let Wesley leave the hospital, he lashed out at the soldiers who had maimed and murdered his friends, delivered a punishing kick to his unnamed employer but most of all he vented his rage at those who had taken his best friend's eyes. Soon the brunette was punching at the bale with all his strength, ripping out handfuls of the light yellow straw. The cold floor was sprinkled with shredded feed as Angel continued to take out his anger on the huge stack. The vampire was shocked out of his concentration at a loud bellow that seemed to come from right beside him, his anger and headache starting to dissipate as he realised just how stupid he must look. Panting with un-needed breath, Angel turned to see a cow standing only a few paces behind him, staring at him curiously. For a good long few minutes, the cow and Angel contemplated each other, the breath of the large animal frosting in the chilly winter night's air. At another mooing sound, the cow snuffled at the vampire before putting it's head down to gather up the straw covering the shed floor. With all his anger dying down to a warm billowing trapped behind his ribcage, Angel walked past the feeding cow to his phone as his face melted back into his human features. Picking it up, he dialled the Hyperion. Absently, the vampire rubbed his unoccupied hand along his muscled arms as the cold threatened to creep under his skin. Phone ringing, the brunette looked as his watch, astonished to see that he had been out in the feed shed for a good hour. Hoping that his absence wouldn't worry his host's too much, Angel waited for someone to pick the phone up on the other end. "Graham, it's me" "Fine...he's sleeping at the moment. He..he isn't in the best condition. Eye's...some...*prick* took his eyes. Took them out and sewed him up" "No..no, that's the worst but his demon side must have taken over at some stage as he's sort of trapped between human and demon state. His skin is greeny blue but he doesn't have his usual spikes...hmmm? No, not really. It's more like smooth blue skin" "Elder Lapp? Uhhh, that's sort of a weird story that I still can't wrap my head around and you how strange things can get...Yep. Look, I've just rung the fucking hospital and they've decided to inform me that Wesley has checked himself out...just shut up for the minute and listen!" "Graham..shut it! I want you and Riley to find him..I don't give a flying fuck about any damn phone call..I want him found and returned to the hospi...what?" Stopping in midpace, the vampire found himself weak at the knees as the smaller soldier explained how Wesley had been released into Riley's care after being evaluated as able to leave under supervision. Riley...Riley took Wesley from the hospital? "Explain to me just what Riley did? NO..*All* of it!" "Right...right..Really? He did that? Joyce cleaned the room for him...mmmm. And..what did *you* do while all this was happening? Really, sat at the desk just in case the phone rang? So..you didn't think to give Joyce a hand with cleaning Wesley's room...and I'm guessing you didn't bake him a fucking welcome home cake either?" "I'll be home...no, no..don't talk anymore Graham. I'll be home with Doyle in a few days. We will *all* discuss this then" Wesley was home from the hospital. Riley *took* him from the hospital. He was to blame for Wes leaving the hospital. As the rage exploded into full bloom again, Angel felt a dislike for Riley being dredged up from a place in which he thought he had buried it forever so long ago. That bastard, who the hell did he think he was? Meddling in something that didn't involve him...and come to think of it, it wasn't the first time it had happened either. Call disconnected, the vampire slid the phone into his pocket with a shaking hand. With a cool smile, Angel realised that this was the second time the younger man had interfered with one of his ex-lovers. Indeed, the first one had been Buffy and now the man had his sights set on Wesley. Riley had obviously taken advantage of Angel being away for a few days, plenty of time for the ex-soldier to start planting ideas in the ill man's head. Just like Buffy. She had been at a vulnerable stage of her life as well when Riley had made his move on her. Wesley was his and always would be. "MINE!" Suddenly, the vampire shivered as his rage turned ice-cold, something that only rarely happened, as his roar echoed around the feed shed. Cow startled into trotting away, Angel snapped his game face into place as he turned to follow the bovine, his stomach rumbling with hunger and anger. Riley. Something to be dealt with later. December 16, 2004 Elder Lapp's farm, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. 1.32pm It was only the slight elevation of Doyle's heartbeat that alerted Angel that his friend was waking. He couldn't bring himself to look upon the half demons ravaged features, the scar tissue decorating the Irishman's face was just a stark reminder of how wrong things had gone at what was supposed to have been a time of friendship and remembrance. Not for the first time, the brunette vampire wondered just what to tell Doyle about what had happened in the Magic Box after the half demon had been taken, especially when Doyle would ask about his fiancee. Still facing the darkened window, Angel gave a little start as Doyle acknowledged his presence. "Angel?" "Yeah Doyle, it's me....how you feeling..I mean..?" "Not too good actually.....my..my eyes" Wincing at the resigned tone in the soft voice, Angel turned towards the half demon laying in the narrow single bed. Unneeded breath taken, the vampire hesitantly took a few steps forward, his gaze resting firmly upon Doyle's chest. "I know" Silence descended upon the small room, broken only by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor as Angel sat himself next to his friend. The vampire watched quietly as a blue green hand fiddled with one corner of a thick blanket, one of four covering the smaller man. The silence stretched as the two men took in the presence of each other. Finally, it got too heavy for the vampire. "How did you know it was me?" "Still got a nose, can smell you. Not as good as vamp or some other demons obviously but better than the normal humans" "Oh" Lapsing into silence once again, Doyle ached to ask the questions that were running rampant in his head but he knew that once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop until he knew each and every detail of the last months, and he really wasn't sure if he wanted to know. Angel, however saved him the decision. "Cordelia...we..we haven't found her yet....I'm sorry Doyle..I wish I could tell you better news but...." "Cordy...Been thinking about her every day...love her so much it bloody hurts...hurts worse than me eyes. Is she dead...? Are you looking for a body or is she still alive...? Did Wes do that spell that he tried for Xander....? Shit, what happened with him? Willow?" "Angel, where's Cordy?" His anger over Wes and Riley put aside for the moment, Angel quietly told his friend just what had happened in the last months. The vampire answered each question truthfully as they came, starting with the one about Cordelia and why they had been unable to find her so far and in fact any of them. Angel spared no details about Wesley and his own mutilation, including Riley and Graham's fingers. He informed the half-demon about Kate Lockley being transferred to another precinct and into child pornography, thus severing one of his major informants and that almost all of his other demon contacts had disappeared or just wouldn't talk to him. "What about you doing the spell...you've got all ten fingers?" "Doyle...If I could...if I had just a mere touch of spell casting ability, nothing would have held me back, but I just don't have any talent...not one grain. Wesley is...*was* the magic user" "Angel, just tell me everything from the start...please?" With a sigh, Angel began. "OK...you know what happened to the others..well, Spike and Xander were taken by the same soldiers. Riley and Graham reckon they were freelance mercenaries, apparently the numbering of us was some sort of thing that a few military teams are taught as a method of subduing people. Works *real* well huh? I got both kneecaps shattered, took ages to heal because I hadn't been drinking human. We all got taken to Sunnydale General including Joyce, she went into shock while the rest of us went into immediate surgery - even me until I vamped out. The doctors and nurses took one look at me and then transferred me to a dark room by myself. You wouldn't believe the explanation they gave for my gameface and injuries...Self inflicted!" "What?" "Yeah..that's what *I* said as well. Anyway, they just dumped me on the hospital bed, made sure the curtains were closed and left. You know Sunnydale..ignore it and it'll go away. Managed to call Kate and she came down from L.A., claimed some personal time. She managed to clear it all up without too many questions being asked, pretty much threw her weight around which is what got her transferred I think...she hasn't said too much about the reasons behind the transfer. Uh, what next? Oh...Willy ended up being a bigger help than I would ever have thought possible. He was bullied at first by Kate but did a lot on his own as well. He got Giles' lawyer to read the will in hospital once Riley and Graham were out of surgery and the drugs had worn off. Joyce was there as well but she was still in shock. Evan, the lawyer, told us that Giles had left the shop to Xander, Willow and Buffy with the proviso that Anya was to run the shop on their behalf unless it was sold while the house was to be sold and we all got equal portions of the proceeds." "What did you do?" "Well with Joyce still out of it and everyone else missing, Evan arranged for the shop to be sold as well. The money for everyone but Wes, Riley and myself is currently invested with David Nabbit's company. Doing well too. Evan is looking after the others' money for them until we can find them, yours as well. Joyce was told to move to L.A. along with Riley and Graham. They ended up all moving into the Hyperion with me" "Poor woman...she ok now though?" "Good days...bad days. You wouldn't believe just how much work we had to do. The soldiers had only given us four days to get packed and back to L.A. and we did it as well. Riley and Graham discharged the day after surgery, took me with them. Wes was transferred to a micro surgery ward in L.A. Joyce discharged herself the next day and surprisingly, got into the swing of moving everything. She was the driving force behind it all, with out her, we wouldn't have pulled it off." At the break in Angel's narration, Doyle found his head spinning at learning of what had happened to everyone after he had been taken. "Jesus! How much stuff was moved?" "A lot. Ultimately, we moved everything from Riley, Graham and Buffy's house and Giles' house. We left Willow and Tara's apartment as it was, Joyce just packed all her clothes and toiletries for the move. With everything to be moved and with my knees, not to mention Riley and Graham's fingers and Wes being in L.A., we ended up hiring professional movers. There was about a dozen people in each house. Anyway, we got everything back to the Hyperion and into a few of the spare rooms on the third floor. Most of the rooms are taken up with everybody's stuff" "Thank the PTB for the hotel, huh?" "Mmmm. What else? Wes got released another two weeks later while Riley and Graham had to go back into hospital as both their fingers got rejected. They had discharged way too early and the fingers kept on getting banged around. They were both pretty pissed at that." "I'll bet!" Angel told Doyle about Wesley's character change and re-hospitalisation due to the cocktail of drugs he had been taking, only briefly acknowledging the flare of jealousy that exploded as he mentioned that Wes had been released into Riley's care. Angel Investigation's new employer was described as well as the vampire could, including the disgusting shows of power with the still missing Spike. The brunette awkwardly patted at the half-demon's shoulder as great shuddering tremors wracked the blue body. "God...Angel?" "Yeah?" "How did everything get so fucked up?" "I wish I knew, but I do know that there are bigger players than just that Randall asshole. There has to be....He was..*is* a pimp...he has no use for anything that we are told to retrieve. Half the stuff...I don't even know what it is. I've kept descriptions of it before handing it over but with Wesley being so unstable, I haven't had a chance to ask him about it" Before Doyle could make a comment, Angel exploded in frustration. The last few months of stress and worry tumbling from his lips. "I mean...FUCK! We get told to do this..do that and we have to do it because if we don't, Spike gets maimed and God only knows what happens to everyone else? Sunnydale is completely barred, we can't step one foot inside the city limits. Why? I don't know. Joyce gets told to sell her house and art gallery, our illustrious employer told her that she was to be the secretary.....she doesn't even know the first thing about being one, but does that matter? No! Riley and Graham must go with me on each retreival..no excuses except when they went to hospital and I've just told you what happened to Spike when I went against the orders with Wes. Fangs..his bloody fingers..." "H..how did Joyce get her stuff moved if she wasn't allowed back?" "Willy, of all people. He ended up getting everything organised, and even Kate got a phone call to say she was banned from going back. Joyce was in tears for days, she couldn't bear the thought of anyone else going through Buffy's childhood stuff. It's all up on the third floor. Jesus....I haven't even told you the spooky stuff yet!" Taking a shaky breath, Doyle felt his stomach grumble with hunger but gestured for Angel to keep talking while he was still in the mood. After not having had a conversation with someone for so long, it was good to hear a friend's voice at last, especially one that wasn't touched with a German accent as well. His body still trembling with the effort of the dry crying, the half-demon took a few more deep breaths as his chest burned with the need to start howling. "Sorry....I'm so sorry Doyle...I..I shouldn't have go off like that, its not what you need at the moment." "What I need Angel, is to know what has been happening..please, just keep going." "Alright then. Drusilla, my second Childe..yes, the insane one, she appeared at the hotel one day. Joyce called us all back and in what can only be described as well...insane, the Oracles spoke through Dru and we got told that this was my war and if I ended up winning this, then I would get my reward. The whole Shanshu thing. Dru also rambled on about everyone who had been at the Magic Box that night...most of it is odd and pretty gibberish but with Dru, there was always some sense to be made when she had one of her future visions. We just can't make sense of it yet, so none of us know what to concentrate on first. But apparently, everyone at the Magic Box has a part in this." "Hang on Doyle, you haven't heard the weirdest bit yet..no, trust me with this. Joyce has manifested a talent for speaking as Wesley. I mean, the whole accent, tone, speech pattern..it *is* Wes' voice. She speaks as Wes when he says something. She hasn't done it since Wes went to the hospital but now he is out, she should be doing it again. God only knows how this is affecting her...as far as I know, she even does it in her sleep if Wes is speaking. Graham sat with her a few nights, its only when Wes yells that she wakes up. He yells and so does she." Never in his whole life had Doyle wanted a drink more. Actually, he could go for a whole bottle of whatever was on offer thought the dark haired man. What a bloody mess! All this time he had been sure that Cordelia was safe and sound with Angel, even with Willow and the twins. With another shudder of his weary shoulders, Doyle wished he could cry properly, frustrated that he couldn't even vent his grief, his tear ducts had been damaged when his eyes had been stolen from him. "I'm tired Angel. I want Cordelia and I want to go home" "I know. We haven't stopped trying to find her, both her and the others and I'll be taking you home in a few days. You need to rest up for a little bit longer....Can I get you anything?" "No....well, bit hungry actually. Surprised that Samuel or Rebecca haven't asked if we want lunch yet. God...everything is so confusing. Even the bloody Amish farm isn't Amish..you know what I mean?" With a slight smile, Angel nodded at his friend, replying a second later when he realised that Doyle would never see him do anything again. Upon arriving at the farm, only two mornings ago, he had been astounded by what Samuel had told him. It was true, Samuel wasn't strictly Amish. Actually, Samuel wasn't even human. Both he and his wife were refugees from another dimension. Angel had sat in the cosy kitchen, stunned into silence at the farmers tale, he had asked how the Amish couple had known that Doyle was a demon. The Lapps ran a refuge centre for refugees escaping from their home world, a half way house for demons who either stayed on earth or jumped into a further dimension. The ones who stayed were very few and those that did agreed to comply with the Amish ideals, living out their lives in relative peace and quiet. Why Amish was a question the Angel wanted to ask but hadn't for fear of offending their gracious hosts. They had taken both his and Doyle's demon status' in their stride, stating that they had taken care of other species than their own. Even Angel's blood had been served up without a raised eyebrow. Angel just hoped that they didn't find out about the cow, although he was sure that he had covered his tracks. Even if the carcass was to be found, it would more than likely be blamed on a pack of wild dogs. "Yeah..I do..Doyle? Get some sleep, I'll go and see if Rebecca can make something up..OK?" With a nod, Doyle listened as the vampire left the small bedroom, the idea of sleep becoming tempting. He was exhausted and he wanted to be in much better shape than he was before making the trip back to L.A. He just wasn't sure of what help he was going to be to the taller brunette. Doyle hadn't had a real vision since his eyes had been taken and he sure as hell couldn't help the vampire out in a fight anymore. The visions he had experienced while in solitary confinement had been strange, more dream like and wispy than the usual surround sound ones that he normally received. His mind drifting a little, the half-demon wondered how Angel had coped with everything without cracking. Pillow re-arranged to his liking, Doyle suddenly gripped his head and bellowed as a vision hit him full force. December 17, 2004 Hyperion Hotel, Library, 10.30am "Are you sure it was Spike in your vision?" "Yeah Riley, I am." "Uhh, it's Graham actually...sorry." Shoulders shrugged, Doyle gave a nod in the direction of the deep voice, hoping he was looking at the right person. He had already had this conversation with Angel the day before when the vision had been only seconds fresh. Like wishing bad luck on himself, he had only been thinking of his visions when one had decided that it was time to re-start the visitations. The vampire had come running it to see what the half-demon had been yelling about and had caught him in mid-throes of a vision, both deciding that it was a sign to return to L.A. on the next convenient flight. Rebecca had been more than happy to help Angel make a temporary Islamic head to toe covering for the half-demon, a thin face covering and sunglasses completing the disguise. With a sigh, he told the two ex-soldiers, Wesley and Joyce exactly what he had told Angel. "It wasn't the nicest I've seen, and that's saying something too. From the looks of it, he was strapped down on a table in a silver room. I..I really didn't get very clear 'scenes', it was more like a few well chosen flashes." "Why..I mean..What was so unpleasant about this one?" "Christ...How do I put this? Uhh, I had a few flashes that looked directly down on him and...well, lets just say missing teeth and fingers are the least of his problems. What I'm trying to say is that he looks like he's donated a few organs and other essential bits and pieces." A soft sob broke through the uncomfortable silence as each person digested the new information, Joyce wishing she could cuddle the bleached blond, no matter how much she knew he would snarl at her. Wesley spoke up next. "Didth uh sthee anfing elsth?" "Did you see anything else?" "I hate to say this but you two are freaking me out...sorry but you are. No, but the thing is, this was the strongest vision I've ever had...it wasn't the most painful but it was a lot clearer and I could smell something as well, it was rotten...almost like a decaying scent. That doesn't make sense does it?" Doyle answered Wesley's next questions with as much information as he could, trying not to let Joyce's clearly pronounced echo get to him. Yes, he had smelt things before in a vision but never such an identifiable scent and no, he hadn't heard anything either. "Maybe there was nothing to be heard?" "Quite the possibility...What do you think, Francis?" Doyle agreed with Riley and Wesley's idea, surprised about the notion himself. An independent question from Joyce and he reluctantly told the gathered group about seeing Spike weeping. "Oh God, Drusilla said he was, and I quote, "Crying like a kitten" I was hoping that it was one of her nonsense sentences, not something that was true. Angel told you about what Drusilla said didn't he?" "Yeah he did and he told me that she sort of combusted...Is that true?" The half-demon sat quietly, face turned towards Joyce's voice as she told him in more detail of what had happened in the kitchen only days before. As one, the four men and one woman agreed that things were moving fast, almost too fast for them. They were all pleased to be making such progress but with so many things going wrong, they each felt like things were slipping beyond their grasp. "Something is pushing it to go fast, the PTB want this to happen. I'm not saying that the PTB wanted you to lose your eyes or for me to have Joyce speaking for me but it's just too co-incidental for this to be happening naturally. I mean, you have a major vision almost the instant you see Angel again after months of only having as what you describe as 'soft and fluffy' visions." "So you think something major is going down and the PTB want things to be ready for when it does?" "It's only one theory but I really can't think of any other explanation....can you?" With a shake of his head as Joyce finished speaking for Wesley, Doyle agreed with the ex-watcher. Wes was right. At Joyce's offer of coffee and tea, the half-demon added a black coffee to her list of one Earl Grey, a camomile tea and a decaf coffee. A snicker escaped Doyle's lips as he realised just who the herbal was for, something that he could never imagine a tough soldier would go for. As he heard Joyce leave the library, he felt a tension slam into place, making him shudder slightly. "Wes is going to train Joyce in spellcasting." "Really? Is she even a bit talented at it?" Leaning forward, the Irishman inclined his head towards where he thought Graham was sitting, his attention captured completely. He listened as Wes attempted to strangle out a reply, only to suddenly wish that Joyce was back in the room to make the answer clear for them all. Flinching slightly as the ex-watcher viciously swore, he was surprised when Graham took up what Wes was trying to say. Obviously it had been discussed by the group before and it was something that Angel had no idea about as well, Doyle was sure it would have come up before now if the vampire did know. "What? You telling me that Joyce may have been an uncalled Slayer? Are you serious, because it's just too easy to yank my chain at the moment." "Serious, Wes was telling us that the Council kept watch on all the uncalled Slayers for when they had their own children, and usually one of them gave birth to a girl that would become the Slayer. Sometimes they missed it because an unidentified Slayer candidate and occasionally, a normal woman gave birth to the next Slayer instead. Wes is hoping that she was an unidentified candidate, not just normal." "How...shit! Does Joyce know? How do they identify candidates anyway?" Leaning back, Graham let Riley take over the story as he watched Wes nod at everything his blond friend was saying. Attention turned from the conversation as he had heard it before, Graham looked closely at the re-united member of the L.A. team. He took in the weird skin colour, noting that it was actually quite a pretty tone. Almost a light teal. How long Doyle was going to be that colour, no-one was really too sure yet. Wesley had put it down to the man's demon side emerging a little more prominently to speed up Doyle's healing. Raising his eyes a touch, the ex-soldier couldn't help but stare at the lumpy uneven scar tissue that glued the younger man's eye lids together. He had already heard the whole horrid story about Doyle's confinement and abuse in the early hours of that morning, the telling leaving the Irishman exhausted and in need of sleep. Something that Angel was still doing. Nine hours and still counting, Graham knew that it was more than likely that the vampire had taken a few tablets or even injected himself for him to be out this long. Graham had ended up secreting the drugs back into the same hiding place as everyone agreed not to confront Angel just yet. They wanted Doyle to settle in first. Riley, Graham and Joyce decided that Wesley should get a bit more strength for when the time came. They also wanted to know just what type of drugs they were dealing with and until the analysis came back, they had no idea. Graham had scraped one side of each tablet, gently shaving a fine powder into a small ziplock bag until there had been almost a quarter gram, he had been unwilling to send a whole one in case Angel noticed that one was missing from his stash. He had also gone and purchased a kit of five syringes from the pharmacy in order to draw a small amount from one of the vials, again not wanting Angel to know a syringe was missing. Wes had been worried that the vampire would smell everybody in his room, knowing that only he and Joyce could give a good reason for being in there while Angel had been away. So, Joyce had done her first 'teamie', a deodorant spell. One that mixed peoples aroma's into a pleasant herbal smell. It had taken a few tries and a failure before getting it right. The failure had been in the practice room that Wes had claimed on the fourth floor, the room now stinking of rotten cabbage, a smell that was refusing to dissipate. Overall, Wes had been happy with the outcome. Snapping back to the present, Graham caught the tail end of the conversation as Riley was explaining to a still bemused Doyle that because it was possible that Joyce had been an uncalled Slayer, it was his theory that she might be more in tune with the nature of magic than possibly even Willow or Tara had been. But as he had said, only time and practice would tell. With a small chuckle, he laughed with the rest when Doyle pondered the thought that maybe Willow was an uncalled Slayer herself given her gift for the art of magic. Graham conceded that it might be possible but from what he knew of the girl, she just didn't have the killer attitude that Buffy had possessed. "Does Angel know?" The laughter stopped dead in it's tracks, Doyle's face suddenly serious. He knew that there had to be a reason as to why Angel didn't yet know and he just couldn't convince himself that Wes was going to see how Joyce went before telling the vampire. Wes was always up front about everything, informing them all about all possibilities whether they panned out or not. For the ex-watcher to be keeping something from Angel, meant that there was a problem. "No, he doesn't yet" Head turned towards the doorway, he nodded in Joyce's direction as she answered the question before anyone else could. As he felt a warm mug get pressed into his outstretched hand, Doyle listened in shock as Joyce described just what had been happening with his best friend. Forgetting totally about his coffee, he sat with an open mouth as he heard about the frequent naps that had started only a few months ago. Naps that had led to lengthy sleep periods that were almost every second day now. At his stuttered question, Doyle was told of how Riley and Graham were sometimes forced to shake Angel awake if they received a phone call during one of his naps. He snapped his body towards Graham's deeper voice. "You actually shake a sleeping vampire? Are you mental? Mate, if it was me...I'd be standing bloody twenty foot away and be poking at him with a fucking big stick...no way would I actually risk my neck and *shake* a sleeping vampire!" "I know, I was like that the first few times as well but when he's in one of his 'sleeps', he is so groggy for the first half hour when woken, it's a wonder he doesn't break his neck coming down the steps. I don't think he would be able to attack us even if he wanted to, I'm pretty sure he would just fall out of bed and go straight back to sleep." "Huh!" Finally taking a sip of his cooling coffee, Doyle wondered just how fucked up things could get and if it was possible for the universe to screw everybody's lives just a little more. Snorting to himself, he knew that it was highly likely that a major 'something' would happen in the next few days if the past was anything to go by. "Why haven't you asked him what was going on after the first few all day sleep sessions...? I mean, why leave it to go on for so long?" "Uhhh..well, Ri and I looked in a few of Wesley's books about vampires and we thought it might be some sort of hibernation thing that vampires do under stress, you know, like re-charging the batteries. The books were full of goobdleygook, we didn't want to ask Wes because he was still sick and we didn't want to alarm Joyce by jumping to conclusions. It wasn't until we saw the track marks that it clicked." Head hung just slightly lower than it had been before, Wesley felt the shame flame across his face as he realised that if he had kept a grip on himself, he could have stopped Angel before it had come so far. Another part of him acknowledged that it was quite possible that Angel would have come to this point even with Wesley making his concern known. If only he hadn't been so selfish and had stopped thinking of just himself. He was only just starting to come to terms with his disfigurement but it shouldn't have been any excuse to ignore others who were in just as much pain and inner turmoil as himself. His reunion with Angel that early morning had been less than ecstatic, the vampire giving him a cold look before ignoring everyone once Doyle had been settled into his old room. Every attempt from Joyce, Riley and Graham to speak with the tall brunette had been rebuffed, Angel letting his feelings be known by slamming his bedroom door. Wesley knew that the vampire was probably feeling betrayed by people he trusted to follow his leadership but the ex-watcher agreed with his co-workers, Angel was not capable of making decisions concerning other people anymore. Not while he was still on drugs, even if they were just sleeping tablets. Wesley hadn't been expecting flowers or chocolates nor had he wanted a few lines of lovesick poetry, but he had been looking forward to a smile and few quiet words from his ex-lover, something that he was now clear-headed enough to appreciate. He was still feeling slightly musty headed but he knew that it would eventually pass, as would his feelings of inadequacy. Wes wanted nothing more to just sit down and talk with someone about how overwhelmed he felt but with both therapists dead, he had no-one to turn to and he wasn't about to heap more problems onto one of his co-workers, even if they did offer their shoulder in the future. Idly, he wondered if Doyle knew if the therapists were dead, something that he hadn't known himself up and til a few days ago when he had finally caught up with everything after being out of it for so long. "The thewapiths are dweath. Bwawbwa dieth fwom uh thwellfusth awergy und the wun in Thunnydale culleth himthelth. I cawth hulp buth think thath ith an athempth thoo itholath uth all tho thath we hath no choith buth thoo do wath the phwoncalth thelth uth thoo do. We are beingth itholathed fwom outhideth inflwunthth." "The therapists are dead. Barbara died from a shellfish allergy and the one in Sunnydale killed himself. I can't help but think its an attempt to isolate us all so that we have no choice but to do what the phone calls tell us to do. We are being isolated from outside influences." "It's just too convenient for them both to die." Riley was again thankful for Joyce's input with the conversation, he hadn't understood a thing that Wes had just said. Nodding to what Wes had said, he was pleased to see that Doyle looked like he was thinking along the same lines. He couldn't help but shudder a little as he took in how badly the half-demon had been sewn up, he was sure a field surgeon in the middle of World War Two would have been able to do a better job. Plastic surgery would no doubt be able to fix most of the newly formed scar tissue. Riley wondered just how Cordelia was going to react when she saw Doyle next. Whether the pretty brunette would accept Doyle with his disfigurement or be too horrified at the sight to get over it. The tall blond was hoping that she would stand by her fiancee, he was a good man and from what he had said earlier that morning, the thought of marrying Cordelia was one of the things he had clung to while in isolation. The ex-soldier sat quietly as it was decided that one of the first spells Joyce would be taught was the location spell, fixating on Spike for the first attempt. As Doyle started agreeing, he suddenly asked just what had happened to the tracker Riley and Graham had implanted into Xander and if they had had any success with it. Riley cursed inwardly as he saw the hope that adorned the Irishman's face fall as Graham explained that the tracker had been unable to focus on the youth, the shorter soldier putting it down to the same jewellery that had made locating Xander via a spell so difficult. Ultimately it was decided that Joyce would start learning it that afternoon while Doyle rested up some more, with Riley and Graham keeping an eye on Angel once he woke. December 20, 2004 Wolfram and Hart 9.18am Slamming the door to his office, Lindsey threw his briefcase across the room only to curse when it broke open, spilling paperwork over the plush carpet. "Fuck!" Expensive leather chair kicked a few times, the irate lawyer tried to steady his breathing before he did something really stupid...like telling Tomas to go fuck himself. It was all the warlock's fault. It was *not* Lindsey's fault, not that Holland was viewing the situation in that sort of light. Still snarling to himself, the angry man strode over to his wrecked briefcase, bending down in front of it. Papers shoved into the useless case, Lindsey strove for a solution to the mess he had found himself in. The half demon was supposed to be dead. Dead and rotting in a bloody field somewhere, not back at the Hyperion. Tomas had sworn black and blue that his apprentice's location spell hadn't failed and that Doyle *was* dead. But no, the piece of Irish shit had been found by fucking Amish farmers, no less. Lindsey had been amazed that the half-demon hadn't died while his eyes had been removed for sale, and because he wasn't allowed to torture Angel any more than he already was, he had decided to give orders for the mutilated man to be kept alive. So, for two weeks, Doyle had been 'cared' for while Lindsey had thought about what to do with him. Doyle had been driven to barely civilised part of Pennsylvania and dumped after Holland had told Lindsey to dispose of the half-demon. Thrown out and dumped like the piece of shit he was. What no-one had counted on, was the will to survive. The lawyer had thought the demon might last a few days by himself before being set upon by wild animals or even breaking a few limbs and dying of thirst.....Amish farmers had never even come into the equation. The idea of a few more days suffering for the Irishman had been too tempting for Lindsey to order a quick death. He wasn't supposed to be re-united with his friends and giving them hope, it wasn't supposed to work this way. With a shudder, Lindsey realised that he had less than an hour until his meeting with Holland, just thanking God that he didn't answer to the warlock. No mater how much Holland gave him the creeps, with the older man's carefully cultivated 'fatherly' manner, it was the younger warlock that scared the shit out Lindsey. The older lawyer had decided on the second day of knowing Tomas that the other man was the scariest motherfucker on the face of the earth. Even with Holland's carefully presented front, there was always a hint of menace with everything he did or said, unlike the warlock. It wasn't his looks or anything overt...it was the way Tomas was so harmless looking. He was nothing special, only about five foot seven, a slightly chubby build...just completely ordinary. You could just pass him by in the street and not give him a second thought, let alone a first one. It was the way he *smiled* at you, nice and pleasantly with no sudden mood changes or a wild look...just nicely. Lindsey was sure the each time Tomas smiled at him, the warlock was cataloguing which of the lawyers body parts would complement his spells and concoctions. Lindsay knew that the unfortunate apprentice was already floating in a tank somewhere in the depths of the Warlocks workrooms, a place that the lawyer avoided entering unless it was completely necessary. He had inquired about the bleached vampire once and after seeing what condition the demon had been in, Lindsey knew he would rather kill himself than be given to Tomas. Sighing, the lawyer wondered how he was going to explain the half-demon's miraculous survival to Holland. The only good news was that Sanity's auction was organised and ready to be swung into action, in the next month or so. Randall had opted for a private auction for the boys with only the demons on the whores regular lists invited. Made sense, thought Lindsey. The firm just couldn't risk Angel finding out about the sale and ruining everything. Hopefully, this information would go a long way to earning himself another chance. December 20, 2004 Hyperion Hotel 3.51pm Milk stirred into the steaming coffee, Riley sighed at the thought of just a few hours to call his own, time for him to do his own thing. Wesley and Joyce were reading through Drusilla's ramblings. Now that the ex-Watcher was feeling better, both were sitting at the front desk in case the phone rang. Doyle was upstairs sleeping again, his stamina and general wellbeing still at a low level after all he had gone through, thankfully the doctor had pronounced him relatively healthy despite everything. Graham was at the nearby gym for the next few hours, the afternoon was his free time and tomorrow, it would be Riley's turn. And Angel, well apparently the vampire was sniffing his neck.... Letting go of the teaspoon, the tall blond tried not to jump as he realised what the vampire was doing. Slowly, Riley turned to face his friend who was only inches away. A scowl decorating his face, Riley asked the most obvious question. "What are you doing? Did you just *sniff* me?" When his question got no reply, the ex-soldier felt his heart rate increase by a few beats, suddenly wary as Angel gave him a slight smirk. Angel didn't smirk, sure, he smiled but he never ever smirked. "How long have you been standing there?" Angel didn't answer, his smirk growing larger. Shit! This was creepy...Ever since Angel and Doyle had returned from Lancaster County, the vampire hadn't spoken to anyone, not even his ex-boyfriend. Something that was of a concern to them all, especially as they knew how worried the brunette was about Wes. No, he had avoided everyone, locking himself in his room. Wesley had told everyone to leave the vampire be, assuming that Angel just wanted to brood for a while before talking about the hospital incident. Riley had been uneasy as had Graham but after Doyle had agreed with Wes, the blond had gone along with it. This was the first morning that Angel had come down from his room. As Angel's smirk grew into a wide smile, Riley felt a flicker of annoyance. "Angel...w..what are you doing....? Get off me..Ahhhh!" Faster than he would have thought possible, Riley found himself spun around and pinned to the kitchen bench. Struggling to free his arms from behind his back, the blond attempted to kick backwards at the vampire standing like a solid wall behind him. The ex-soldier squawked with pain as Angel rammed the blond's lower abdomen into the bench, just managing to bruise Riley's genitals on the sharp corner. With deep breaths as he tried to will the pain away, the struggling man wheezed out another question as to what Angel was doing, getting his legs kicked out so that the vampire was squarely in between them as an answer. Jesus, Riley had gone against countless vampires in his time, even Angel once, but he couldn't ever remember the brunette being this strong. "W..wwwhhhhattt..the *fuck*!" Riley hoped to god he wasn't really feeling what he thought he was. Wrists wrenched in a iron grip behind his neck, his head was forced onto the counter by Angel's solid weight as he felt the vampire draping himself over the taller blond's back. That wasn't what was scaring Riley. It was the fact that Angel was grinding and rubbing himself against the human's buttocks, snarling filling the quiet kitchen. Riley was too shocked to even consider yelling for someone to help him. Even if he did, there was only Joyce and Wesley who would be able to. His next attempt at a question resulted in Angel shifting his weight slightly, enabling the blond to raise his head a few inches. Just as he was taking a breath to start yelling at the vampire, Riley groaned as his head was slammed back down onto the counter, his neck twisting as his forehead connected with the cool counter. Pain flared down the right side of his neck and down deep into his spine as Angel started to grind harder into him, the vampire's snarling growing louder. Riley had all the breath knocked out of him as the brunette pulled him away from the bench only to make sure the corner of the bench mashed into his genitals again. The blond pushed his pelvis back into the vampire in a desperate effort to make the other man back off only to almost instantly snap his hips forward as he received a better feel of the hard organ grinding against him. "G..g.get o.offfff mmeee." Choking on his words as a solid elbow connected with his ribs, Riley continued to struggle as Angel smacked his head into the kitchen counter again, causing his neck to seize up. He couldn't believe this was happening. How could something like this happen to him and most importantly...Why? He frantically pulled at his wrists as he felt one of Angel's large hands leave, only to have the vampire suddenly bury his face in the crook of Riley's neck. "WE...." Before he had even gotten half the name out, Riley felt two pinpricks at his neck causing him to cease his struggling. He was terrified. He knew that he wasn't dealing with his friend anymore, he was dealing with a seriously wacked Master Vampire. One that had a soul. Riley knew that Angel had his soul, Hell, he had been one of the chief organisers of the party they had held when it had been revealed the binding spell had been successful. So, why was Angel doing this? Surely, Angel couldn't be horny? And if he was, why was he forcing himself onto Riley whom the vampire knew was straight? His fear increased a notch as he realised that the brunette was fast ripping a large hole in the back of his pants and boxers with one hand, the other still keeping his wrists in position over his neck via a hard cool grip on a few fingers on each hand. As the cool air greeted his buttocks through the newly torn hole in his pants, Riley sucked his breath in as Angel simultaneously raked his fangs along his neck and rubbed a hard length against his bare skin. In an odd thought, Riley wondered when Angel had found the time to undo his own pants. "Nonononononononono." Riley wasn't sure what was scaring him the most, the hard flesh rubbing between his buttocks or the feel of one of Angels fangs breaking the skin on his neck. With every fibre of his being, the blond ex-soldier pleaded with the PTB for someone to disturb the vampire. The fangs withdrew from his neck for a moment, a tongue roughly lapping at the tiny pinpricks until they were replaced once more, the teeth tracing an unknown pattern on his sweaty skin. Riley could feel Angel's cock leaking pre-cum between his cheeks, the rubbing massaging it into his skin. In a desperate attempt to free himself, the taller blond heaved himself backwards, managing to push the heavier man back a step before he found himself having his head continually beaten into the counter. As the stars threatened to overwhelm him, Riley noted the bench surface was denting beneath the solid blows of his forehead. Still, Angel hadn't said one word to him. "Gasp...P..p.pleeaassse Angel?" Once again his stomach was crushed into the bench as the growling and snarling reached a new crescendo. Suddenly, the vampire ceased his rubbing against Riley, something that the younger man was thankful for until he realised that his anus and upper thighs were being steadily coated in a cool liquid. Nausea rose from deep within him as a chill burrowed deep into his bones. Riley knew that Angel was cumming on him, he could feel the vampire's cool shaft pulsing and twitching as it lay nestled between his buttock cheeks. Another few grinds against him, three more neck jarring smacks of his head into the already dented bench and Riley found himself being dragged by his hair and wrists through the corridor that led from the kitchen to the main foyer. He was forced to let Angel take him to the front desk, the stars that were swimming in his head dazing him into complete submission. As he was dumped onto the hard floor, he was dimly aware of Joyce and Wesley both screaming at Angel, Wesley demanding to know what the vampire had just done with Joyce shrieking the words clearly. He couldn't really concentrate on the words, amazed to find that his nose was bleeding. "MINE" At the roar that tore through the Hyperion's lobby, Riley found himself picked up and shaken like a rag doll, the screams of Wes and Joyce increasing in pitch and volume. Head snapping back and forth loosely, the ex-soldier gurgled in protest as a trickle of blood found its way down the back of his throat. Flung to one side, Riley stopped his slide across the floor just in time to see Wesley get manhandled up the main steps towards the first floor by a still snarling gamefaced vampire. As he watched a crying Joyce hurry towards him, Riley wondered if Angel had done up his zipper after the brunette had finished with him. December 21, 2004 Hyperion Hotel 6.17am With a groan, the battered man allowed himself to recognise the fact that he was now conscious. Eyes still closed, Wesley lay as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake the vampire that was plastered to his back, one cool arm draped over the warm side of the human male. How did Wesley know Angel was still asleep? Simple, the larger brunette wasn't fucking him again. Daring to open his eyes just a smidgen, the weary ex-Watcher gingerly lifted a hand to trace a finger over the fang marks that decorated one side of his neck, just below his right ear. Nowhere subtle of course like the crook of his elbow or his inner thigh. No, Angel had wanted everyone to be able to see just who Wesley now officially belonged to. Another groan and Wesley realised that it was the throbbing of the bite marks that had woken him this time. At least he hadn't woken to a cock trying to rip him in half again. A glance around the bedroom and the bruised man registered that Angel's large solid oak bookcase was blocking the only door that led in or out to the vampire's bedroom. No wonder no-one had been able to get through the door way, it had taken both Angel and Spike to carry the bookcase up the main stairs of the hotel when it had arrived. Angel must have moved it across the doorway after Wes had passed out for the first time. Had Riley, Graham or even Joyce tried to come to his rescue? Yes..yes they had, dimly he could recall lengthy periods of something banging on the door, something that had caused Angel to snarl and growl all the more, effectively blocking out most of the sound. Shifting his legs slightly, the human bit back a scream as the dull aching of his abused hips and backside increased, as his muscles protested their treatment over the past hours. Wesley knew that he wasn't as strong as he had been before the disaster at the Magic Box, just thanking God that the vampire hadn't decided to Claim him before his second stint in hospital. If Angel had, Wesley seriously doubted that he would still be alive. Unable to help himself, Wes let a smile drift across his face at the thought. He was Claimed. Claimed by a Master Vampire. The Scourge of Europe no less. He was Angel's Consort. And it had been one of the most painful things he had ever gone through. Angel had fucked him hard before but never had he kept up the punishing speed, the force of the thrusting and amazingly quick recovery time like he had during the initial Claim. Wesley knew that there was blood coating his thighs and buttocks, he could feel it flaking off him as he attempted to get up, gently moving Angel's cool limb. Head spinning at the movement, the painfully thin man stopped moving as he felt himself tear inside, a wave of pain flowing through his body. With a barely disguised whimper, Wesley lay back down on the blood and cum stained sheets. He knew that Angel would get him to a doctor if Wes needed to go. Wes just wasn't sure if he *did* need one, everything hurt so much. He was proud that he was Claimed but he wished that it hadn't been at Riley's expense. God only knew what sort of condition the ex-soldier was in at the moment. Riley probably had concussion at least, if taller blond's steadily purpling forehead had been anything to go by. His teeth and nose were another matter entirely. Both he and Joyce had been shocked when a snarling and gamefaced Angel had suddenly appeared in front of them, Angel just saying one word while shaking the barely conscious younger human. It had been a word that had frightened yet excited Wesley in an instant. That one word had made it patently obvious to the ex-Watcher just what had happened between Riley and Angel. Although Angel had his soul, he was still a vampire and the demon instinct was strong and with Angel under such stress, the urge to warn off other possible challenges to what the vampire considered his belongings was overwhelmingly strong. Wesley knew that Angel would have felt betrayed by Riley removing Wesley from the hospital, going against the vampire's direct orders. Never had he ever taken it into consideration that Angel had felt that his Alpha male status had been under threat and more importantly, his belongings. And he had known from the first time he had slept with Angel that the vampire considered Wesley his 'property', something that Wesley certainly hadn't objected to in the least. Normally, Angel would have possibly found a way to deal with the problem logically, but with Riley being another Alpha male himself, and even though Riley naturally deferred to Angel most of the time, the vampire had obviously felt the need to display and re-assert his dominance over Riley. As like some animals and nearly every demon species he knew, the vampire had beaten and then ejaculated upon Riley, forever marking the blond as a Beta to Angel's Alpha. Neither he or Joyce had been unable to miss the gaping hole in the barely conscious males light wool slacks, the purpose for the opening only all too clear to them both. Wesley just hoped that Angel hadn't gone all the way and raped the taller blond. However, given the display of dominance that Wesley himself had received, the possibility was only too real. And what a display that had been as well. Wesley had been dragged up the stairs despite his best efforts to show Angel that he was going willingly. Clothes ripped off and torn into shreds, the smaller man had been scrubbed almost raw as the vampire had cleaned him while being held under the shower. Once the brunette had been satisfied that Wesley was clean, certainly, he had been to the point of almost sobbing, the vicious scrubbing had been that painful, the vampire had sniffed and snuffled at him until Angel could no longer detect any other scent than just Wesley's. Barely two steps had been taken into the main bedroom before the dripping wet man had been shoved to the ground, onto his stomach. Yanked back by his hair into a hands and knees position, Wesley had been unable to stop the shivers of fear coursing through his body as a cool hand had rested for a moment on his trembling shoulder. That gentle touch had been all the tenderness he had received from that time on. Buttocks spread an instant later, he had howled in agony as he was rammed into dry, his unprepared muscles forced wide beyond their capacity. Wesley hadn't enjoyed it, he had shrieked and tried his best to tell Angel to go slower, to let him adjust before continuing. His strangled pleading had gone unheard by the snarling vampire who had continued to pump in and out of the shivering human as hard as the weaker life form could handle. No, Wesley hadn't enjoyed it nor had he liked it all the times that had followed. Angel had cum over his body in certain points, some the Watcher could understand like his groin, his armpits and his face but other areas like the back of his knees and the crook of his elbows, Wesley couldn't understand the reason for it. Wesley doubted Angel understood it either, pure instinct had driven the vampire to claim the human as his. Wesley had been almost to the point of passing out again after what had been the sixth time when Angel had turned him onto his back, taking him for the first time while looking at his face. The ex-Watcher had at first been under the mistaken impression that Angel was going to take it slowly, indeed the vampire had entered him carefully enough. It was only when Angel had sunk his fangs into his neck that Wesley realised that the position was easier for the vampire to reach his desired position on Wesley's neck. Almost flinching from a cool hand running down his still prominent ribs, the cold human was in the process of steeling himself for another vicious fuck when he found Angel tenderly stoking the livid fang marks on his neck. Still too wary to relax into the caring gesture, Wesley wondered what was going to happen next. Having been a Watcher, Wesley had read all about the ritual for claiming a Consort and had known that the ritual was brutal, with the sex being akin to rape. It was only now that he had gone through it that he truly understood how brutal, yet ultimately thrilling it was. He ached from head to foot and he was sure that he wouldn't be leaving the bedroom for a few days at least, not without help anyway. "Mine" With that, Wesley felt the comforter being wrapped around him as Angel took note of his shivering. Even though he was proud and excited to be a consort to his lover, there was still going to be the problem of an injured Riley. Riley who had to be made to understand that Angel had had no choice in the instincts that ruled his very existence. Unfortunately, Wesley wasn't sure that the ex-solider would ever understand why Angel had assaulted him. Still, it was a matter to be dealt with later. Snuggling into the thick warm material, Wesley felt himself freeze in horror as a thought suddenly struck him. Joyce. She would have had no choice but to echo his screams and pleadings for as long as she had stayed within the 'voice' radius to Wesley. His elation deflating as he imagined just how traumatised the poor woman was, he took advantage of her gift. Whispering as softly as he could, he garbled out sentences that were designed to hopefully soothe the older woman. He whispered that he was a bit sore but ultimately alright, told her not to worry about him and that Angel would take care of him for the next few days. Wesley told Joyce that none of them were to approach Angel in any way until he could explain what had happened, and certainly under no circumstances was anybody to come near him either, knowing that the vampires need to display dominance and keep his personal belongings close would last for a few more days. If Riley or even Graham confronted Angel or tried to touch or talk to Wesley himself, it could very possibly set the whole process into action again, something that Wesley really didn't want to go through twice in one week. In a barely heard voice, he asked Joyce to tell Riley that he was sorry and that it had been out of his control. Most of all, he apologised to Joyce for her having to hear what had gone on. January 3, 2005 Hyperion Hotel, Library. 11.47am "Mummy, the sound will flow through you. London Bridge will be heard again. Legacy of the Tower will ring true and be forged by two. The green from the Isle of Erin was lost and will never again appear nor the red of the blue. The Sight was saved but is lost in the fields of memory. The twins of darkness are to reside in the halls of the ones who seek.Thanking Graham for reading out the first section of what was now known as Dru's Destinies, Angel turned his attention to his newly marked Consort, pride swelling as it did each time he saw the other man. "So, tell us what you think Dru was on about?" With a nod at Angel, Wesley gathered up the writings on Drusilla’s last predictions. Since being let out of his lover’s bedroom only a week and a half ago, Wesley and Joyce had spent most of their time going over the vampiress' ramblings. They hadn't had any progress until a random comment from a still sickly Doyle. He had made reference to his eyes while trying to re-learn the position of furniture in the hotel's kitchen. A throwaway remark of how he would never be able to spook little kids with his red eyes again. Joyce had asked what he had meant by that, stating that she knew for a fact that his eyes had been green. Wesley himself, hadn't taken much notice of the conversation until Doyle had told the older woman that when his demon half used emerge fully, his eyes would change to red as his body turned blue and spiked out. It had taken only a moment for the ex-watcher to make sense of some of what Drusilla had written. Papers shuffled once again, the thin man cleared his throat, an action that was matched by Joyce. "Well, surprisingly enough, once Joyce and I made sense of one bit, the rest was quite easy. Be warned though, we still haven't made sense of everything but hopefully, in time, we soon will." At the collective nod, Wesley forged ahead with his opinion. "The first few lines are about Joyce and I. Clearly, we are meant to be working together in this but the reference about the Tower of London is remarkable. One of my distant relatives about two centuries ago was rumoured to have been born out of wedlock in the Tower. Joyce has told me that her heritage is English as well, one of her own relatives was shipped over here on the first or second fleet. He was also apparently from London but what the connection is with the Bridge, we really are not sure yet." Sip taken from his cooling cup of Earl Grey, both Wesley and Joyce took a breath as they prepared to continue. "The next bit refers to Doyle. Ireland is sometimes referred to as the Isle of Erin, I'm surprised that Angel didn't click onto that bit himself. It tells of the loss of Doyle’s eyes, in both his human form and his demon form. Also, how he was found by the Amish in one of their fields. 'Lost in the field of memory'. We also know that the visions from the PTB are still hitting with full force, obviously the 'Sight' that Drusilla alludes to. The twins of darkness are more than likely Aiesha and Gonturan, after all they are dark skinned. I honestly don't know what the halls are though. It's more than likely that they are with Cordelia as we all know that before this happened, she was hell bent on being Hollywood's newest star. She is the star that is yet to be born. Somewhere cold with lots of snow and ice, where though is again another question entirely, the same with Willow. 'The lonely tree.'" Another sip of now cold tea and the bespectacled man continued, only to hastily apologise to Joyce who was spluttering words as she tried to drink some of her coffee. A few snickers went around the library as Wesley dramatically clapped a hand over his mouth until Joyce had managed to finish her beverage. On Joyce's left, Graham leant over and offered the coffee splattered woman a few tissues from the box resting on the lamp table beside him. At the older woman's watery hiccups, the ex-soldier allowed his smile to grow broader. A glance at Riley to Graham's own left and the shorter man was thankful for what had occurred over a week ago. Graham had been once again reassuring Joyce that Wesley was alright being left alone with Angel, after all, the ex-watcher had managed to tell Joyce that he was pretty much ok, when Riley had come back from his dentist appointment to fix his chipped front teeth. They had been about to sit down to the dinner the worried woman had made when Angel and Wesley had made an appearance. There had been silence for a minute and then all hell had exploded. Graham had found himself trying to restrain Riley from attacking Angel while Wesley had been trying to placate a snarling vampire, Joyce shrieking at them both to cut it out in-between speaking as Wesley. The voice of reason had been Doyle. He had felt his way from the second floor and to the kitchen without tripping down the steps as he had done on a few previous occasions. Within five minutes, the short Irishman had had them all sitting at the table and taking turns at telling everybody what was pissing them off. Angel's drug problem had been brought up as had the results of the analysis. It had been revealed that the tablets and vials were a mix of sedatives and bovine hormones. Bull hormones to be precise. Something that had more than likely attributed to Angels stress levels even if they had at first helped him. Wesley had put it down to the vampire's liver not being able to process the extra chemicals as a 'live' being or animal would have been able to do, thus them staying in the body for longer than normal. Riley had brought up the episode of Angel assaulting him, everyone including Angel wincing at the barely disguised disgust in the man's voice. After a lengthy screaming match and both the vampire and enraged human having to be restrained again, Riley had eventually conceded that Angel could have done a lot worse to him. Riley had told Angel that he could understand why the brunette had felt the need to re-assert himself as the Alpha but needed time to get over the way it had been done and eventually forgive the vampire, something that had left Angel visibly upset. Angel himself had apologized to Joyce for terrorizing her via Wesley. She too had told Angel that it would take time for her to forgive him, more for the fact that the vampire hadn't seen fit to tell them that everything was alright with Wesley. Instead, he had left the four friends to worry themselves sick about Wesley's state of health, let alone the bigger brunettes mood. She had told everyone about how stressed she was herself, not only had she lost her only daughter, been forced to sell her house and business, she now had a talent that she didn't know how to control. She also told the group of how hard it was to be the only woman living in the hotel, there was no-one of her own age group or sex to discuss 'normal' woman things with. Wesley had piped up then, telling them all of the ritual he and Angel had completed while locked in the vampires bedroom. Once again silence had drifted down upon the kitchen until Joyce had given the two men her congratulations, everyone including a still pissed off Riley had followed. The ex-watcher had also apologized again for his actions in the previous months, sorry that he had been thinking only of himself. Both he and Doyle had expressed how bitter they felt over their mutilations, Riley and Graham agreeing with the two other men. Doyle had informed the vampire and Wesley of the daily visions of Spike, telling the group that the PTB wanted the bleached blond found as soon as possible and that they really didn't have any time to waste on 'fucking rituals' if the PTB were panicking. The smaller ex-soldier had sat quietly through the whole discussion right until the early hours of the following morning, relieved to see the group grow a little stronger now that everybody had gotten what was worrying them off their chests. The splintered parts of the group starting to knit together again. He had thought that he was selfish. He had been a little pleased that Joyce had turned to him for support and comfort once she had started voicing Wesley's screams and pleadings, Riley thankfully in hospital being treated for mild concussion and broken nose. Truly, it had been horrifying to learn what the thinner man had gone through. On more than one occasion, both he and Joyce had thought that Angel was just about to kill his ex-lover, the voiced agony had been that frightening. He couldn't deny that he liked the way Joyce had snuggled into him, trying to catch sleep every time Wesley had lapsed into silence. God only knew how he would have coped with it if he had been in the older woman's position. Things were still raw after the yelling session but he was hoping that they would settle down soon, especially with Joyce. He wanted to ask her out to the movies, maybe start the ball rolling on a possible relationship. That is if she would have time in-between casting sessions with Wesley. After the long discussion, once everybody had calmed down a little, it had been decided that they were all going to start pulling their weight. The half demon was going to take over for Joyce in the office, getting training from David Nabbit on how to work a computer for the blind. The other man had already agreed to provide the agency with a voice computer with a Braille keyboard, David just happy to be involved with 'saving the world' no matter how small his part in it was. David had already started teaching Doyle Braille, the billionaire informing them that his father had been blind so he was pretty familiar with it all, his inspiration for developing a computer for the visually impaired. Angel had agreed to dispose of his hidden drugs, flushing the tablets down the toilet and emptying the vials down the sink in front of everybody while Riley quietly told Doyle what was happening. The vampire promised never to touch them again, embarrassed to find himself agreeing to therapy with Dr Sawyer. Technically, she wasn't a therapist but so far, Evangeline Sawyer hadn't been threatened or killed off even after treating a still colourful Doyle. Everyone was pretty sure that their mysterious employer was allowing the good doctor to live just in case one of their numbers were seriously injured and needed a doctor in the 'know' about certain things. Joyce had agreed to start training properly with Wesley, even if it was found that she couldn't get past the basics of spell casting. Riley and even Graham had decided to re-train for automatic weapons using their opposite hands. All in all, a lot of issues had been cleared up that night and Graham couldn't help thinking that it was about time. He acknowledged that he was frustrated by the lack of progress in finding the still missing friends as well as being wary of Doyle’s visions of Spike. If, as Doyle was insisting, the PTB were panicking about them not finding the bleached vampire soon, then things were seriously wrong somewhere. Things that Graham knew from experience, couldn't be good for them. Jerking out of his Angel-like broodiness, the ex-soldier listened as Wesley/Joyce informed the group of what they thought Drusilla's Destinies meant. Willow was thought to find love again after a lengthy period of despair, her hair growing long, 'flowing like a river.' 'The man who isn't' was thought to refer to Christopher, the words indicating that the boy/man would live at the hotel again one day and be happy to do so. It was a thought that had them smiling, Christopher was a favourite with them all. It was also possible that the words referred to Spike, a demon in a man’s form. 'The one with no voice' obviously referred to Wesley himself, his voice was already being heard in the hotel via Joyce. With a suddenly serious expression, Graham tensed as he was referred to. His surname was Miller so everyone was presuming he was the 'Miller's son' that Dru had talked about. He was apparently going to find love and be a champion to a woman who was yet to be named. As Wesley continued to dissect the vampire's words, the smaller soldier found himself trying to hide a grin as he tried to avoid looking at Joyce. "Well, the 'Miller's son' is obviously Graham. Lucky you, *you* get to find love with the advocate, a woman and be her 'champion'. In other words, you will defend this woman with your life until you both die or at least grow old. Umm, just bear in mind that this is not a proven theory yet, ok? Good. The advocate is Joyce. Yes. An advocate is someone who speaks for those who are unable to speak for themselves and by what Joyce is doing at the moment, I think it's pretty clear that she is the one Drusilla is referring to." There was a moment’s silence as everyone absorbed the new information. Still trying to hide his cautious delight, Graham risked a quick glance at the older woman only to find that she was already giving him a smile. Joyce was unable to hide a giggle as the younger man gave her a wink, Angel and Riley both raising their eyebrows at the sound while Wesley and Doyle smiled quietly. Graham found himself suddenly eager to give his input to the conversation. "I..IlikeJoycealotsothisisgreatasfarasI'mconcerned." "Uhhh, I don't think any of us understood what you just said Graham but I think that we all get the jist of it and I for one, think that you two will make a great couple should you both choose to explore *that* avenue in your relationship." Joyce knew that she was bright red from what Wesley had just said and from looking at Graham and Riley, she could see that she wasn't the only one. Angel just sat next to Wesley looking slightly aghast at what his lover had just uttered, Doyle grinning widely while he looked towards the couch that Joyce and Graham were sitting on. Fighting the urge to start giggling like a schoolgirl, she almost slapped herself as she found her mind throwing visions of a naked muscle bound soldier to the forefront of her thoughts. Distracting herself with a bite of an almond wafer, the older woman almost choked as she wondered if the ex-soldier was well hung. As Graham rubbed her back, Joyce waved madly at Wesley in an effort to tell him not to speak for a minute or two, sure that if he spoke, she would just continue to cough and splutter all the more. Eventually, after a few sips of the cool water from Wesley's glass, she huskily told Wesley that he could continue. "Sorry, it really wasn't meant to turn out like that....I meant to say it with just a tad more subtlety. It's Angel's fault, his lack of it has rubbed off on me. What? Stop looking at me like that, you know it's true!" Not even bothering to smother his laughter, Doyle snickered at the thought of what the brunette vampire's face looked like, feeling the ever present sadness surge for a moment before it calmed slightly. He concentrated on Joyce's voice as Wes continued with Drusilla's last words. Idly, he wondered if either of them had noticed that they were now breathing together in the same pattern. "Where was I? Oh yes. Now, 'the golden man' is more than likely Riley as he was in a relationship with Buffy whom we all know was the 'Chosen'. I'm not really sure about this part but from the looks of it, you are going to start a halfway house or a refuge centre for aliens/demons/people maybe even animals from other places than on this planet. I'm assuming that in the Military, you were trained to follow orders regardless of personal feelings or political leanings. Basically only seeing the black and white of the world, the 'two colours'. When you started seeing Buffy and left the Initiative, you started seeing the grey that fills civilian life, something that you are apparently not yet finished discovering. Your mind is to be opened up to yet more than you can currently imagine." "Yeah, and my heart was broken when Buffy died...still is." Awkwardness filled the room as Joyce vacated the couch to go and sit down on the arm of Riley's chair, rubbing the taller blonds arm in a soothing manner. A few rubs at his eyes, Riley cursed as his hand knocked the tape holding his broken nose into place. Shooting a glare at the brunette vampire opposite him, the ex-soldier was grimly satisfied as Angel squirmed a little in embarrassment even if he did keep eye contact until Riley dropped his gaze. He was the Beta, he knew that. His place had been painfully re-enforced and he knew that he had gotten off lightly as well. "I'm sorry Riley..Joyce. Ah, 'the prince' I think is Xander and from what I can decipher, Spike will once again be looking after him and even get his 'redemption' from these actions. What Spikes actual redemption will be is really anybody's guess. We all know that Angel's is to be given human life again, I mean, it *is* possible that Spike will also be given human life. The 'soul of blood' is something I have no idea about....anybody else know? No...no? Ok, the rest of it, I have no idea about either except for the 'displaced ones'. The kidnapped boys will more than likely be going to stay at the same Christian Hostel that Jason was staying with. 'The brothers of Christ.'" "Ok, anybody disagree with that...no? Bloody Hell, thank Christ for that! I'm exhausted!" At Wesley's cue, Graham read out the last of Drusilla's Destiny's, skipping the part about Dru's own role in the whole destiny game. "This is your war Angel. The final battle for your redemption. Do not fail, you will not get a second chance and hell will be taking you back. Soul and all. Your legacy shall be bred from the missing. Fail in your mission and there shall be none to replace you should you fall. Many will be denied their full achievements should that occur. The fate of millions rests on the outcome of this war. Do you understand?Once again, Wesley/Joyce took up with the translating of the vampiress' words. "Right, the first bit is pretty self-explanatory. If you fail Angel, you get sent back to hell, no second chance and no two hundred dollars and you don't get to pass 'Go'. What? Monopoly.. never mind Angel, I'll explain it later. The next bit is a bit iffy…I'm not sure about this really. From what I can gather, everyone who is missing will have children who will then continue on with Angel's work once he is gone. Of course, if he fails to find everyone, then quite possibly, a person who has an upcoming major role to play in the future might never be born thus condemning the world. Our legacy." "Cordy wants four kids...I'll be bloody happy with one. Christopher as well....if…when we find him. Gonna twaddle the papers, make him ours legally if he wants. Shit! What am I even going on about? Good fucking chance that he won't be a child anymore even if he does come back to the hotel?" "Doyle, I'm sure that Christopher will be more than happy to be included in your family once we get everybody back. Even if he isn't in child form anymore, you can always start a new relationship as equals...you know?" Hand rubbed over his face, the half demon knew that he was wilting fast and needed to go back to bed for a few more hours sleep even if he didn't want to. What he really wanted was to go out into the daytime and feel the sun on his skin but he couldn't until his demon side receded totally and he was no longer a greeny-blue shade. He refused to contemplate on what Cordelia would think of his eyes let alone if he remained blue. Finger just skimming over his destroyed eyes, he flinched inwardly as he took in the hideous damage he felt from just that one moment of contact. "Thanks Angel but I'm kinda attached to Christopher as a kid. Cordy and me...we were gonna start trying for a kid of our own on the wedding night...What's the next bit Wes?" "Mmmm, well...we are all fond of Christopher as a child but we *do* have to take into account that when we get him back, he may not be a child both physically and mentally but that is something to deal with when we find him. Now, the one Angel hates so much is more than likely Spike, he was re-born as soulless once he was turned by Angelus. And Spike is, who the PTB is having kittens over, what is really worrying me. It's that I can't imagine anybody worse than Angelus. To have the Oracles state that if Spike regains his soul, that The Scourge of Europe will be insignificant compared to a souled William.... is just beyond imagination. Angel, what do you know of Spikes life before you turned him?" "Nothing. Like I told you before, I just grabbed him, took him home and turned him. I've never sat down and had a conversation with him about his life before being turned and lets face it, we all know how much he lies...yes, I know that *one* of his lies proved to be real but that doesn't mean everything out of his mouth is the truth." "So, you just grabbed him off the street? Just like that? But, he's your Childe...aren't Sires supposed to stalk their intended Childer for weeks, months even, learning everything they can of their victims lives before finally doing it?" "Yeah Doyle, that is the done thing but Spike was a special case and I didn't have time to do dither around with questions. I saw, I wanted, I turned. All I know is that I saw him in a poor section of London in the early hours of the morning, close to dawn actually. He was coming out of a hovel wearing what looked like to me, a baker’s uniform. I think that maybe he was an apprentice but I could be wrong, he would have been the oldest apprentice in London." "It might not be Spike...Angel is there anyone else that you *really* hate?" "Is there some way to prevent a person from cursing Spike with a soul?" "What are the Twilight instructions that Drusilla mentioned?" "Why did you just grab Spike...why was he a special case?" Angel groaned aloud as the questions were fired at him almost simultaneously from all corners of the library. Hands held up in placating gesture, the suddenly weary vampire suggested another round of tea and coffee before he answered the questions. As he watched Riley and Wesley leave the library to venture down to the kitchen, the large brunette found himself fighting the urge to slip into a dreamless sleep via a few tablets or an injection. Unable to stop himself drooling a little at the thought, Angel wiped one hand across his mouth. January 4, 2005 Hyperion Hotel, Fourth floor, Room 404, 2.19 pm "Right..that’s it! The actions are perfect...you do this very well Joyce." Grinning slightly as she echoed Wesley's words, the older woman acknowledged that she was terrified of stuffing the latest challenge up. All morning, both she and the ex-watcher had been going over a series of complicated finger and hand gestures. The actions were to compliment the three sentences of Nrotog Wesley had taught the woman the day before, something that had been quite difficult. With Joyce speaking each word simultaneously with Wesley, the woman had found it hard to catch on to that languages particular speech pattern. It had been difficult to concentrate on one voice while still hearing the same voice completely twist the words. She really didn't even know why she had to learn the sentences herself if she could project the mans voice, Joyce had thought that all she would be doing was to learn the actions and let Wesley speak through her while she performed the finger routines. Wesley however, was adamant that she had to learn the precise moment of when a particular action was needed. Apparently each slight dip or rise of the voice required a different action, so Joyce has practiced the words over and over until Wesley had been satisfied that she knew them properly. It had given the woman a feeling of pride that she was making the thin man feel useful again and when she thought about it, she was glad to be doing something other than answering the phones and filing. Breathe taken, Joyce prepared herself to run through the sentence routine once more before attempting to combine it with the hand routine. Staring straight ahead as she felt her heart rate quicken, Joyce spoke the words in a clear voice. Her grin got bigger as she allowed the pitch of her voice rise and fall as the words demanded, taking a breath after each 'Z' as Wesley had taught her. "Ish anthum rotanu..zthor." "Manzt granthum warlum..zthor." "Zthor..ab'vor..ZTHOR!" A quiet clapping beside her and Joyce found herself blushing, happy that she had got them right. At Wesley's gesture, she nodded that she was ready to try them together, the butterflies in her stomach making her feel slightly sick. It was a simple task according to the ex-watcher. Just encouraging a candle to light up. Something that almost all witches learnt during the first few months. At Joyce’s query of them not using Latin, Wesley had confessed that the old language was sometimes a little wonky in casting outcomes and that the Nrotog was the most stable of all spell-casting languages. He had told Joyce that even Willow had eventually conformed to the demon language after one too many spells had gone haywire when performed in Latin, apparently there had been a "Thy will be done" spell that had gone particularly nasty. After that, the red-haired witch had quickly lost all her romantic leanings towards the language. It was also the same language that was used to bind Angel's soul. "Weady Joysh?" "Ready Joyce?" Another nod and Joyce hesitantly performed the gestures as she spoke, eliciting a noise of disapproval from Wesley. Taking a deep breath, she performed the routine again with less hesitation than before but still the candle refused to light. It just stood mocking her, placed in a gaudy gold holder while standing upon an old fold out table. They were practicing in the same room that had only a half hour ago, hosted a quite obnoxious rotten cabbage smell, a remnant from Joyce's first failure at the deodorant spell. The older woman had confidently used the same spell again in order to get rid of the noxious odour, pleased to have gotten it right on the first try. "Noth quith Joysh, wath me." "Not quite Joyce, watch me" Wesley slowly ran through the words and actions together, making sure that Joyce saw just when to wave her left pinky over her right second knuckle while taking a breath. At her more confident nod as she finished echoing his words, the ex-watcher did the spell at the proper speed. Seeing that she looked as sure of herself as she was going to currently get, he gestured for her to do it again. He stood to one side of the bare room as he watched the woman take a few relaxing breaths before attempting the spell again. Just as she finished the last word on the third sentence, Joyce gasped as the candle sputtered and lit for a brief second before flickering out again. She had done it! She had actually done magic all by herself. Smiling widely, she turned to see Wesley looking a little sad at her while he gestured for her to try again. Immediately her hand flew to her mouth as she realised that the other man would never be able to perform magic again, no matter how well the speech therapy went, her heart clenching with sympathy for him, the flare of excitement inside of her gone in an instant. "No Joyce, I don't want your pity. I am going to miss it but I don't feel so useless now I have you to train....that's if you want to continue?" "I can't help it Wesley, I *do* feel sorry for you. From what Angel has said, you were quite good at it and I'm sorry that you can't do it anymore but I'm glad that you’re able to pass on your knowledge. I'm still not sure that this is the right thing for me but I'm willing to try it. I have to admit that I'm proud of what I just did even if it didn't last that long." Nodding at her, Wesley gestured at her to try it again as he rubbed at his cold limbs, the thick jumper not really doing its best at keeping out the cool air. It was chilly in the fourth floor room, the hotels heating couldn’t be turned up until Riley, Graham and Angel had finished retrieving all the books from the boiler room, the ex-watcher afraid for the well being of the valuable tomes if kept too long in a hot room. The thin man didn't even want to think about how much damage the cold had already done to them. As he watched Joyce do the spell again, he noted with a small glimmer of pride that the candle's flame stayed lit for almost 30 seconds before dying out again. "Wesley, isn't the flame supposed to stay lit until one of us blows it out? Could it be too cold up here...because, I don't want to whinge but in a few more minutes, my fingers are going to snap off if I try to move them again." Blowing on her cool fingers, Joyce grinned as she watched the younger man do the same thing. With a good-humoured sigh, she ran through the spell twice more with the same result as before. The flame only staying lit for around 30 seconds. It wasn't long but Joyce was proud of herself, never in a million years had she thought that this was where life would take her. Tears rising up, she hastily wiped them away as she found herself wishing that Buffy was alive to see her. Straightening her back, she steeled herself for another go. Determination written over her serious face, she drew in a breathe and just as she completed the first word, she became aware that Wesley was standing next to her matching her actions as he too, spoke the spell out loud. As they came to the end of the incantation, the candle flickered for a millisecond before the whole table and wall behind it exploded into flames, the heat and roar of the ferocious element terrifying them both in an instant. Thick jumpers stripped off, leaving both in long sleeved t-shirts. Wesley and Joyce beat frantically at the approaching tongues of flame. Eyes watering as the thickening smoke crawled past them into the deserted hallway, both humans jumped as one as the smoke alarms started to screech. "OUT...GOD JOYCE....LETS GO!" Screaming the words together, Wesley and Joyce coughed their way to the open doorway, the intense heat shimmering the air in front of them. In the two seconds it took them to reach the hallway, the flames had crept forward a whole foot. Joyce grabbed Wesley by the upper arm, the ex-watcher wheezing and shaking with the effort needed to breathe. Arm around the thinner man, the older woman sneezing as she followed the smoke towards the main staircase. "Wes..come on?" "Cough..ack!" Joyce suddenly decided that she would smother Wesley herself if he didn't stop coughing, forcing her to do the same thing. Reaching the stairs, she re-affirmed her grasp around the younger mans waist and started to descend towards the main lobby. Halfway down the third floor stairs, they were rushed by Graham and Angel, both taking one look at their dishevelled states and mouthing words that no-one could hear over the clanging fire alarms. Angel snatched Wesley from Joyce, flinging the still coughing man over one shoulder just as Joyce found herself suddenly being carried down the remaining stairs in a pair of strong arms, only a few steps behind Angel and Wesley. Riley was waiting for them at the bottom of the staircase, one hand on Doyle’s upper arm as they both shouted out questions as to what had happened. With everyone down in the lobby, Joyce hurriedly explained that the spell had set the room alight as Graham put her down. An agitated vampire listened long enough to learn that the fire was on the fourth floor, room 404, the corridor to the left of the main stairs. Thrusting a wheezing Wesley towards Joyce, he told them to get Doyle out of the hotel while he, Riley and Graham did what they could about the fire. "Go! Get out of here...the sewers!" "Angel, you can't it's too dangerous! Riley..Graham?" "Hey! Why the fucking sewers?" "Doyle...your still bloody BLUE!" With the fire bell still ringing through the hotel, Joyce herded the two men towards the kitchen as the vampire and two ex-soldiers ran up the stairs towards the fourth floor. Sewer entrance reached in the alley behind the hotel's staff entrance, Joyce and Wesley shifted the heavy cover while Doyle waited to be guided down the ladder. Wesley went first, followed by Doyle while Joyce went last. "That's right Doyle, two more rungs and you’re on the bottom." Breathing heavily from the excitement of the fire and the effort of climbing down the ladder, the half demon shivered as he missed the last rung, slipping as he landed heavily against Wesley. "I thought you said that after two more bloody rungs, I'd be on the floor of the fucking sewer?" "Sorry Doyle, I meant to say that you would be on the last rung...I truly am sorry?" "Mmmm." Sharing a look between them, both Joyce and Wesley knew that the Irishman was still adjusting to the loss of his eyes. The Braille lessons with David were going well so far but it was still a huge step into a territory that Doyle really didn't want to go. "I hope that Angel hasn't gotten too hero like and trying to take on the 'Towering Inferno' by himself...not to bloody mention the gung-ho soldier boys?" "So do I Doyle...so do I." As the three shivering figures settled down to wait until they could come up again, Wesley, Joyce and Doyle discussed what had happened on the fourth floor. Four hours later.... "Oh man....I don't even want to *know* what the clean up bill is going to be." "You and me both Ri." Standing in the charred shell of the destroyed hotel room, Angel was aghast at how much damage there was. The room in which the fire had started, was basically one big charcoal box. On either side, the adjoining rooms weren't much better, the remaining paint and wallpaper was blackened and bubbled from the heat and smoke. The much whinged about threadbare carpet was no longer an issue, a victim of the massive amounts of water and foam, the firemen had pumped into the burning rooms and hallway. The vampire turned around slowly, not wanting to look at the damage on the opposite side of the hallway. The flames had only just licked at the empty corridor, instead they had run along the roof and had occupied the room directly opposite the one the fire had started in. With a whine, the brunette could almost see the dollar signs adding up with every inch of the charred wreckage he glanced over. Forehead rubbed, Angel sighed as he realised that this side was worse than the other. All the rooms along the corridor, on the left side to the main stairs, right side of the hallway, had been burnt into one long rectangle. All seven rooms length, only stopping where the elevator was situated. The buckled and heat warped elevator. Thankfully, the fire men had arrived only about ten minutes after the alarm had first sounded, Angel and the two other men having been forced back down stairs after a minute of trying to get a grip on the blaze. As they had all been ordered outside by loudly yelling firemen, Angel had managed to run through the kitchen and down into the sewer before too much sunlight had gotten to him, leaving the explanations to Riley and Graham. Once down in the dark, he had calmly demanded Joyce and Wesley tell him what had happened. He had listened with not a word to be said, something he had continued to do until Riley had come to get them once the fire investigators had left and the fire truck had gone. Without a word, he had brushed past them all and had ventured up the sopping wet stairs, paying no heed to the yellow tape barring any access beyond it. Still not a word said, the visibly upset vampire ventured down to the third floor to see how much damage had been done to the ceilings of the rooms directly under the disaster area. Footsteps squelching from the sodden remnants of carpet, Angel ducked under the bright yellow tape that warned people not to go beyond, the same tape that was fixed to almost every standing feature in the burnt rooms and started to stomp heavily down the water logged staircase. Dully, he noted that the usually plush red carpet on the steps would have to be replaced as well. Walking slowly towards the sound of dripping water coming from Cordelia and Doyle’s room, the vampire cringed at the thought of his sorely missed secretary coming back to damaged belongings. A glance into Christopher’s room and he was somewhat relieved to see that there was no visible damage to the young man/child’s room or belongings. He continued down the corridor and stopped suddenly as he stared at the ceiling. The paintwork in the centre of the rooms ceiling had swelled into a giant bubble, straining to hold the massive amount of water that had been emptied into the room above. Thankfully, there wasn't much directly underneath it. About a dozen different leaks from other parts of the ceiling were irritating Angel with their constant wet 'splooping' as the large drops joined the water already on the ruined carpet. Turning slightly, he heard Graham and Riley behind him, still gossiping like old women about the damage the fire had caused. Head shaken in an unbelieving gesture, he brushed past the two ex-soldiers as they sheepishly went to have their turn at staring in Doyle and Cordelia's room. Angel was three steps down the wet stairs when he heard a loud whooshing noise, closely followed by howls of disgust. Pausing for only a brief moment, Angel continued down the stairs as a soaking wet and covered in paint flakes Riley and Graham skidded past him, both men anxious to get to their rooms and showers on the second floor. It was final then. He was going to kill both Joyce and Wesley. He didn't care that Joyce was teary and Wesley was inventing new body language in an effort to display how sorry he was. Yep...*both* Joyce and Wesley got to tell Doyle that he was moving into a new room and they would be the ones to do the shifting. They would also be the ones to ring around and get quotes to fix the damage. No doubt about it. He was going to slowly strangle them both, painfully and forcefully. First...a drink. January 27, 2005 Hyperion Hotel 4.36 pm As the last of the workmen left the Hyperion, the re-formed L.A. team breathed a collective sigh of relief. Finally, after almost a month of constant noise, dust, fumes and workmen milling around at all hours, the friends could now relax without having to watch what they said or did. No more possibilities of alerting the unsuspecting masses about the everyday presence of demons, magic and the PTB via loose-lipped builders and painters. Burqua thrown off, Doyle rolled the much hated heavy black material into a ball and threw it in the direction of where he thought the lobby desk was, missing it completly and managing to wrap it around an innocent half dead palm tree instead. Laughing along with Joyce as she described where the offending head-to-toe covering had landed, the half-demon felt weeks of tension lift from his shoulders. He now no longer had to pretend that he was a devout Muslim woman, one that was wearing the black covering and matching gloves in order to preserve her good name. From the time the first workman had arrived, the Irishman had had to cover up, hiding the fact that he was still blue even though he was apparantly a much lighter shade than he had been originally. Joyce watched as Francis tore off the heavy gloves that hid his aqua hands, noting again that the colour was really quite a lovely shade. Gesturing for Angel and Wesley to lead the way, she allowed Doyle to grasp her elbow and followed them up the stairs while Riley and Graham took the rear. Excited, the group took the newly carpeted stairs to the fourth floor. Thanking the PTB once again that David Nabbit was one of his friends, the brunette vampire stood open mouthed in awe of what the workman had acheived with such a limited worktime. The room the fire had started in and the two adjoining rooms had been transformed into a sound and fireproofed large room. Perfect for Wesley and Joyce's continuing magic studies. After calling the insurance company, Angel had been devestated to find out that the policy had lapsed. The demon had left all financial arrangements to Cordelia after discovering her knack for always getting a good deal out the relevant companies. Apparantly, the re-newal hadn't been posted in time and after a search in the bottom drawer of Cordelia's desk, the vampire had found the insurance re-newal and a few others that were still to be re-newed such as magazine subscriptions and health insurances. It was only after Angel had asked for his invested money to be returned from David's company that he had told the other man about his money woes, informing David that the money Giles had left him wouldn't go close to fixing the damage even a quarter of the way. With Wesley and Joyce's money, the damage to the third floor roof might be fixed and the carpet re-done,but that was about it. Once again, the billionaire had come through with the finances. Angel had felt ashamed that he had to rely on another person for money, David explaining that he had nothing else to spend his money on hadn't made him feel any better. In order to make it up to the other man, Wesley had given him one of the books Spike had hand copied so many months ago. The newly re-done room had sturdy light beige fire-resistant carpet, made from wool and treated with numerous chemicals to make it as stain resistant as possible. The walls were painted a solid off white, the same as the ceiling. It was decorated with sturdy aluminum trolleys and bookcases, a large set of cupboards at one end of the room hid the tanks that held the special foam that the recently installed sprinkler system used in case of another fire. Something that everyone was hoping wouldn't occur again. The system was designed to be activated via a switch near the solid metal door that opened into the hallway. It had been originally set to activate at the first whiff of smoke but had been changed to a manual setting after Wesley had described many of the spells Joyce was currently learning had small smoke explosions, a downpour of fire-retardant foam would not be a good thing for a beginner to experience with each successful spell or incantation. Angel had agreed to it but had insisted on a timer that would activate the foam if Wesley didn't stop it from going off in the space of five minutes. Taking a last look around the re-done training room, Riley flicked off the 'occupied' switch that lit up a light in the hallway over the doorway, shutting the heavy door behind him. Upon hearing the muffled clunk of the door clicking into place, the tall blond punched the lock code into the numeric keypad mounted on the wall beside the door. An identical pad was situated on the other side of the door inside the room. The ex-soldier turned to face across the hallway at what hadn't been up until recently, another row of empty rooms that had once been occupied by the rescued boys from the Eternal, now just a long white wall that stopped at the newly restored and working elevator. After a long discussion with the building crew, the L.A. team had discovered that the cost for repairing the damage to the right side of the hall and the water damaged rooms underneath was going to be astronomical. It had been suggested to just get the floor/third floor roof repaired and not worry about sectioning the space into individual rooms again. Upon telling David how much the repairs were going to cost for the right side of fourth floor hallway, Angel had been embarrassed to see the man finally flinch at the estimated cost. What David had decided upon had suprised them all. The wealthy man had decided to follow the workman's advice and not get the rooms re-sectioned off. Instead, he had instructed them to rip out the damaged section of flooring entirely. In a totally original thought, he had made the two floors high space into a gym and exercise area. Following the others, Riley and Wesley trailed a few steps behind Graham and Joyce as Angel guided Doyle down the stairs to the third floor. Corridor turned into, the group of friends unlocked the gym door and stepped into the huge room. So far, everyone had been banned from entering the space, the billionaire wanting it to be a suprise for them. David was meant to be showing off the newly designed area himself but had been forced to attend the launch of his latest computer software, a handheld computer notebook with braille keys and a voice awareness chip. A travel size of what he had already designed. Doyle had recieved his own gifted one that morning along with instructions for everyone to just go a head and take a look after the workmen had left. Graham almost choked in amazment as he stared goggle eyed around the room. At one end, there was a complete gym set up. From the weight system right up to the latest computerised exercise bike and stepping machine. At the opposite end, there was an area that was a few room lengths in size that had been converted into a small basketball court, something he was already eager to try out. One on one with Riley, he really didn't think Angel and Wesley would be into such things. With another glance around, the smaller ex-soldier found himself gazing longingly at a closed off spa and sauna area, and from the low murmering from Wes and Angel, he wouldn't be using it first. A shake of his head and he realised that David had thought of everything, there was even two bathrooms tucked away in one corner, both clearly marked 'man' and 'woman'. The gym and basketball court was seperated by a large bare area, something that puzzled the human until he caught sight of the stack of exercise mats piled up against one wall of the room. Running a hand along one off-white wall and he felt the re-inforced thickness, grinning as he realised that this room had also been soundproofed and that he was the first to come out of the shock that seemed to be rendering them all speechless. Throat cleared, Graham spoke the one word that was on everybodies minds. "Wow!" "Yep...ah..er..mmm!" "A sauna? Christ! I'm gonna have David's baby myself!" At Doyle's comment, laughter echoed through the large room as Riley continued to tell the Irishman what the other man had done to the available space. As the gathered group seperated and went to explore the room, the tall ex-soldier led Doyle around the different pieces of exercise equipment, agreeing to help the older man start a light exercise routine. A finger run down the cool metal of one of the new peices of equipment, the half-demon grinned to himself as Angel still tried to utter a complete sentence much to Wesley's amusment. As he listened to Riley explain where each peice was situated, Doyle concentrated on memorising the number of steps each one was from the doorway. He so far refused to use a white cane, claiming that it wasn't any use until he could go outside again without the burqua covering. The half demon had already been subjected to enough narrow minded abuse from racists because of the head-to-toe covering, having Angel or one of the ex-soldiers guiding him had prevented people from taking the verbal abuse to a physical level, having a white cane would just earmark him as an easy robbery target. Doyle now had more respect for Muslim and Islamic women and how they must cope with such attitudes on a daily basis. Arms crossed, Doyle nodded as Riley 'oohhed' and 'aaahhed' over the electronic exercise bike, not bothering to point out that the features were useless if one couldn't see to operate them. He stood patiently as he heard the numerous bips and beeps as the taller man fiddled with bike's programs. "Shit! This thing can even set up idividual programs for everyone...the whole room *must* have cost more than the repairs would have....it *has* to have had?" "Probably...what's a bet that Angel and Wes are christening the sauna as we speak?" "No...no..they were right here? Whe..oh god! I can't see them in the room and there is no way that I'm knocking on the door of the sauna!" Grimacing at the thought of what the vampire and his consort could be doing right that moment, Riley stole a glance at his best friend Graham and Joyce as they giggled together in one corner of the room. Graham had loosened up a lot since he had officially started dating the older woman a few weeks ago. As the two of them walked towards Riley and Doyle, the blond soldier blushed furiously as he noted that Joyce was panting. Somewhere...Wesley was doing the same thing. "Oooohhh...mmmmm, right there...that's it, FUCK!" "So? Time for you two to take a drive then?" "How long have they been at it or have they just started?" In between the moans and soft swearing Wesley was uttering through her, Joyce informed them that the action had only just started. One of the down sides to Joyce's talent was that she spoke as Wesley no matter where either of them were situated in the hotel, meaning that the older woman knew exactly when the vampire and his lover were having 'relations' as Graham so tactfully described it. Even after voicing Wesley's screams as he had been 'claimed' by Angel, no-one had really taken the side-affect into consideration until much to Riley, Graham and Doyles amusment, Joyce had vocalised Wesley's entire delight at reciving a blow job from Angel one day while the four friends had been relaxing in the library. It had been a little shocking to find out just what the two men considered as foreplay, everyone knew that Angel was the dominant one in the relationship, they just hadn't realised to what extent. Needless to say, Angel and Wesley had been more than horrified to realise just how intrusive the talent was. Angel and Wesley, in particular, had hastily agreed to either time their encounters to when Joyce was out of the hotel or give her time to leave before starting. Unfortunately, on a few occasssions, the agreement had been forgotten and it looked like this was one of those times. With the four friends sniggering as Wesley pleaded with the vampire to 'fuck me hard Master', Joyce allowed Graham to steer her towards the gym doorway with the intent to drive until she was out of the 'voice radius'. Something that seemed to be at least a two mile width. Hearing the moaning woman leave, Doyle continued to laugh as he heard Wes scream out a sentence begging Angel to slap him. He was going to give them no mercy when they decided to show themselves in the near future. With Riley still chuckling hard beside him, he reached a hand out to the taller man and felt down his arm until he had a firm grasp on the blond's elbow. "Right then, let's leave the good 'Master' and his obediant sevant to their carnal pleas....Ahhhh! Vision!" "Doyle? Ok...just breathe...breathe." As Riley tried to hide the slight shudder that went through him as the man beside him paled from an aqua to a baby blue, the taller man gently lowered the half demon onto the stiff new carpet. Doyle, jerking in pain, tried to descibe his vision as best as possible. "Oooohhh....Bloody Spike again....ah, ouch! Don't think any new bits are missing...fffuuuuck...sobbing like usual....he's saying something this time...I..ouch..I can't make it out. Damn, that goddamn awful smell! Cabbage...rotten bloody stuff....something different? Jesus Christ this hurts! Hang..oooff..on?" Supporting the stricken man's body so that Doyle didn't hurt himself against the exercise equipment as he writhed with the pain from recieving the vision, the blond listened as the light blue male continued to voice his vision from the PTB. "Snow...what? This...ouch..isn't Spike? Oh my God! A woman...she's pregnant...ahhhh, about to drop any day...can't see her face....SHIT! I think she just had her first contraction....gaaaawwwwdd...I can actually bloody well feel that! Hair....RED HAIR! Willow....I think it's Willow....ohhhh...here comes another contraction!" As quickly as it had hit, Doyle felt the vision lift from his mind, leaving him breathless and with his stomach muscles aching from feeling the womans contractions. Wiping at his sweat covered brow, he struggled to get to his feet as he twisted out of the ex-soldiers arms, grabbing onto Riley for support after a few seconds of swaying on his feet. Head pounding as a result of the vision, Doyle cursed the PTB once more for being arseholes. His visions of the bleached blond vampire had been striking him daily, occasionally another vision would hit later the same day featuring someone or something that the PTB wanted Angel to get involved with but this was the first time that a vision of Spike had featured someone else. "Doyle..you alright? Painkillers, drink, rest? What do you want?" "I'm not a fucking invalid alright? I'm pretty capable of getting something by myself....I..sorry." "Nah...I know that. Just want something to do rather than disturb 'Master and Bitch', I know they need to know what you saw but....for gods sake, I'm still mentally scarred from springing them last time...let me get you a drink?" Chuckling at the slight desperation in the ex-soldiers voice, Doyle nodded and let Riley place his hand upon the taller man's elbow as he was guided towards the doorway, both men trying valiently to ignore the images of Wesley and Angel that their minds were throwing at them. One hand rubbing at his tender temple, the Irishman prompted Riley into going down the elevator rather than the stairs, tired from the brutal assault on his mind. Door of the elevator slid across and fastened into place, Riley pushed the button for the ground floor, taking a step back as the small lift jerked into life. Gaze focused upon the arrow that pointed at each floor as the lift descended, the blond didn't at first register the odd noise behind him. Lift 'dinging' as it settled upon the ground floor of the Hyperion, the tall man unlocked the saftey gate and slid it to one side, his brow only just furrowing as he wondered what the low continual noise was. "What the hell is that noise? Doyle...Doyle?" Turning to look behind him to where the half demon stood, the ex-soldier couldn't help but stare as the Irishman slowly spiked out for the first time since coming back to the hotel. With a slight gasp, he realised that the gutteral moaning sound was coming from deep within the other man. "Shit! Doyle....ummm, are you alright?" "Mmmmmmm...no, no I'm not. I think....ooohhh, I'm having another visiiiooooonnnnn.....Fuck!" |
