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Lindsey's Angels March 5, 2005 9.18 pm Hands clasped together tightly, Xander rested them in his lap as he sat quietly in the backseat of Angel's large car, in between Riley and Graham. Xander could hear Riley talking to him, but it was too much effort to concentrate. He feigned interest, occasionally nodding when Riley seemed to pause for breath. He couldn't focus on what Riley was saying; he was too upset by what was happening so he smiled. Xander caught a few words here and there; Wesley, Cordelia, roast beef and cotton as the four men drove from one of L.A.'s outer suburbs and back into the heart of the bustling city. Attention turned to the nightlife going on in the streets surrounding the car; Xander let his mind drift as Riley continued to talk to him. It was almost like a dream. Only an hour ago, he had been in the shower, washing the last remnants of his owner's cum from his body. Just as Xander had started to rinse the conditioner from his hair, he had heard a loud crash from within the apartment closely followed by yelling and gunfire. Terrified, he had huddled in the corner of the shower, the warm water flowing over his shivering body. Even after the screaming and snarling had died down, Xander had prayed for whoever would find him to either kill him quickly or to be at least no worse than his owner. He rocked back and forth under the steadily cooling water, not responding to the name that was called out. He knew Xander was his real name, but his training held fast. Hearing 'Scott' finally allowed him to rise unsteadily to his feet. Shower turned off, Xander had walked out towards the voices, dripping water with each step. As he had rounded a corner and stepped into the main living area, Xander had encountered a black clad figure coming towards him. In an instant reaction, Xander had come to a halt, head bowed and hands clasped behind his back. Patiently waiting for an order. Only a few moments later, he had found himself looking up at Angel's face and Xander had been filled with a little hope and relief. Mostly, he had been instantly filled with almost overwhelming disappointment that Spike hadn't been the first to find him. Xander had been told to get dressed as fast as possible, which he had done, all the while consoling himself with the knowledge that Spike was obviously waiting in the car for him. At the light touch on his lower arm, Xander felt his mind pulled back to the present. With a glance at Graham sitting on his right side, Xander allowed his smile to widen just a little more even as the bitter feeling of betrayal started to wash away the disappointment. Spike didn't love him anymore. If he did, then he would have been the one to find Xander, not Angel or any of the others. Stuttering a soft reply to Graham's question, Xander laughed as he was told that Spike was waiting for him back at the Hyperion, earning himself a startled look from the man next to him. It didn't matter any more. Spike had lied to him. He had promised to find him, not wait while Angel and the others took however long they wanted to eventually come and get him. Xander didn't want to believe it but it was all too clear to for everyone to see. Spike had promised. Most of all, Spike had lied. "Bloody hell, what's taking the f'n ponce so long?" demanded Spike, his voice echoing through the hotel's otherwise deserted lobby. The floor space covered easily by the agitated vampire as he paced backwards and forth, Spike couldn't for the unlife of him work out why he was so anxious to see Xander again. He knew that everyone was jittery about getting Xander back. Mainly because no-one knew what condition he would be in once found. Even after Robin had repeatedly assured them that Xander was not in the least mentally affected like Leo, while he had been at Sanity, there was just no guarantee of how much the auction and resulting buyer had changed him. Spike fully admitted that he included himself in the jittery stakes but that still wasn't an explanation of why he had the urge to just grab Xander and lock him in one of the rooms upstairs as soon as Xander walked through the hotel doors again. "Like that isn't gonna send the boy more around the twist" Spike snorted to himself as he continued to pace, the lobby's carpet cool and prickly underneath his bare feet. Although his foot had grown back entirely, he still suffered from severe cramps that caused his foot to seize up, the foot trying to curl almost into a tight ball. The good doctor had ordered him to remain barefoot for a few more weeks in order to get his new tendons and muscles used to flexing and moving in a natural order. Toes flexed a few times as one of his muscles threatened to spasm, Spike sat on the floor, both hands massaging his right foot gently. As the new muscles twitched and jumped underneath his pale skin, the vampire twisted his head around to look at the large clock hanging over the lobby desk. 9.31 pm "Fuck! Hurry the sodding hell up... knew I should have just gone myself," he muttered, still angry that Wesley and Joyce had altered the wards protecting the Hyperion. As of the time W'nth had found out who had bought Xander, Spike was unable to leave the hotel, the wards on each exit having been altered so that the bleached vampire was thrown backwards each time he attempted to pass through a doorway or window and out into the fresh air. Wes, he could understand doing it but Joyce... well, that was different. The anger shoved deep back inside of him before he found himself throwing another tantrum, Spike shuddered a little as he recalled the last tantrum he had erupted into. Everyone had been gathered around the kitchen table, telling him that there was no way in hell that Spike was going to help Angel collect Xander. Spike was to stay at the hotel. It was for his own good... he was still in danger... he could be taken again... what would it do to Xander if Spike was accidentally dusted during the retrieval? All those points and many more had been thrown at him but the more they had yelled at him, the more worked up Spike had become. It had resulted in him doing something that he had never done, even as a fledgling and he still didn't know why he had even done it. Spike had vamped out and begged his Sire to go, whining like a puppy in order to get his own way. The growling and hissing had welled up from deep within his chest, startling not only himself but also everyone in the kitchen. Angel had stood staring at him for a moment before he had flown across the room to stand directly in front of him and had said no. As soon as Spike had heard it, all the fight had gone out of him. His bloody Sire had even reminded Spike of his official status, a Childe to Angel, something that usually got Spike firing off the worst insults he could think off and it was something that hadn't even crossed his mind to do. Spike paused in the middle of his massage for just a moment, his right middle finger pushing down on a twitching nerve in an effort to stop the annoying feeling. He had heard a car pull up outside, the heavy rumbling sound of its engine reaching towards the hotel lobby. A few more quick rubbing motions against his slim ankle and Spike rose from the floor and onto his feet again. Facing the hotels main entrance, he unconsciously leaned forward as he strained to count how many people were coming towards the double doors. Unable and unwilling to stop it, Spike found himself grinning from ear to ear as he caught Xander's scent as the Hyperion's heavy front door was slowly opened by Angel. The first sign that everything was going to be ok. Of course it was going to be all right. Spike had kept his promise to the boy. Xander was home and to Spike that was all that mattered. March 7, 2005 8.43pm On route to L.A. Lindsey Oh God! Oooohhhhh God! Ohgodohgodohgodohgod..... I'm in deep shit. Not just in deep shit but, never going to come out of this alive type of deep shit. Maybe it won't be that bad? Maybe Angel will turn me? If I get turned, I'm not really that dead am I? I mean, I will be but I won't? If I get turned, then I could still work for Wolfram and Hart. That is, if they don't stake me or give me to Tomas. What if I get turned and then get given to Tomas? Oh my god! What the fuck am I going to do? I can't believe this has all gone wrong. Fucking Randall, King of fuck ups has yet again got my ass in trouble. Should have fucking known that the shit would hit the fan sooner or later. You can only work for the devil for so long before your ass gets bitten. Riding the smooth, well-oiled elevator all the way to the top I was, right to the top. I've done all that was asked of me - Hell - even gone out of my way at every opportunity to prove myself. Surely that's going to account for something? Yeah, I've stuffed up but who the hell hasn't? I haven't done it so bad that they aren't gonna come looking for me, have I? Surely Wolfram and Hart will notice that I'm missing before too long and will send a scout party out for me? Maybe Tomas can have a look in one of his bowls for me? Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! Everything was going so well. Met with one of Randall's clients at his stable. Nothing hard; just be on hand to transfer the deposit for one of the livestock into an offshore account. Play nice towards the client and his liaison person. 'Ohhhh' and 'ahhh' over the stock that Randall's just broken in. Make sure that Randall doesn't sell the boys off too cheaply. He's still got on hell of a debt to pay back to Wolfram and Hart. Nothing hard at all. Didn't tell me that the magic wards had been turned off, did he? Nooooooo! Had to fucking figure that one out for myself when jumping around like a complete idiot. And chanting did nothing to activate the sleep spell as we were jumped on from all sides. Sure, I would have been out for the count as well but at least Randall and that weird bastard Adam would have put me out of the way until I was awake again. It would have been so simple. Just a few words as soon as that cunt Riley barrelled into me and we would have had a nice snooze while Randall and Adam got Sire-Fucking-Lancelot, Robin Hood or whoever the hell he thinks he is and his bunch of merry assholes into secure quarters. Would have been so easy. The promotion I would have received would have been unbelievable. New car, new apartment. Hell, would have even qualified for one of the firms ready-made trophy wives. Don't want one but to be offered one, God, what a beautiful thing that would have been. Me. Lindsey McDonald. The one to bring Angel in, and not only Angel but also an ex-watcher, an unknown and two ex-Initiative soldiers. The bonus on those last two alone would be in the tens of thousands. Tomas wants the soldiers, wants to have a nice chat with them about his brother, research wants Mr Wyndham-Pryce, maybe Tomas would've wanted the unknown as well? Angel, I don't have a fucking clue why he's always allowed to walk free but it's the Original Partners choice. Not just the PTB that wants him around a little longer. Still, the fact that I managed to disrupt one of Angels little 'do gooder' missions would have made the Senior Partners proud, may even have mentioned it to the Original Partners. Now that Tomas has everything ready for whatever he's going to do next, it means that the ceasefire on Angel and his friends is about to be lifted. That means they are free game, the firm's put a bounty on each of their heads. A little reward system for the men and women in line for promotion to Junior Partner. Find out just which ones have the 'killer' attitude, not to mention how much stress relief it would provide for the Senior and Original Partners. Would have meant that I brought them in early but surely that wouldn't have mattered? Maybe I would have been told to let them go until the ceasefire is officially lifted in a few weeks, if that was what was decided then I would have been more than happy to do it. Fuck, I am *so* fucked. I don't know what I was thinking! No way in the world would Angel turn me. He *is* going to beat the shit out of me, that much I know. Shit...*shit*, what if he drinks off me? Would it be that bad? Supposed to be good, addictive actually. The fact that all those disgusting blood houses are cropping up tells me that. Fucking junkies. No wonder all the vampires are taking over the city, everybody just keeps fawning over them. Wow, I think my balls just shrunk another inch or two. What fucking balls? I so seriously don't have any. Mr 'I got a set bigger than yours' Tough Guy. That's me... every fucking time... as long as I'm on the other end of a phone. Safely tucked away behind my desk. God, I can't quite pin-point the exact date that I lost my nuts but they're gone and if they aren't physically, then Angel or one of his lovely cohorts is going to make sure I *really* lose them. I hope its not going to hurt too much. Jesus, just when did I lose my manhood? Used to be a lot tougher than this. Didn't feel anywhere as scared as this when that nutter Drusilla and that bitch, Darla, snacked their way through a whole platoon of up and coming 'soon to be' Junior Partners. I sure as hell wasn't scared when I was going head to head with Angel during the whole resurrection of his Sire deal, even if the prick did cut off my hand. Didn't feel scared because I knew that it wasn't my time to go then. I'm scared now though. Everything has this overwhelming final tone about it. I'm tied up in the trunk of Angel's fucking car. There's barely enough room for me let alone Randall as well. At least he's still out for the moment. I think that English guy cracked Randall's skull when he hit him with the rifle. Gonna have one hell of a headache when he wakes up, that is if he ever does. Will Angel let Randall live long enough for him to wake up? God, will Angel let *me* live long enough to pass out? Where the hell is my spine? Probably still shaking on the floor along with my balls. Been living too soft, used to be smarter than this. Should have insisted that Randall take the client to another part of the house and show him video evidence instead of up close and personal. Should have asked if everything was secure. Should have just fucking left after the money was deposited, not hung about just because I'm a frigging pervert and wanted to take one of the boys for a test run. Fuck, I'm a complete dickhead. Wonder how long it's going to take for me to die? No way is Angel going to let me go quick. Hell, I wouldn't either. Not after what I've done to people. No! No fucking way? The car's stopped. Oh shit! The engine's off... Is it too late to start praying? 10.18pm Sighing, Kate Lockley turned back to the young detective that was insisting on talking to her, the bubbling activity around her ignored for the moment. "Yes, Johnson, what is it *now*?" "Ahhhhh, um. The um, er, boys keep saying that they want to be taken somewhere without demons if possible. Should I get a counsellor ready down at the station?" enquired the nervous young man. Trying not to shuffle his feet too much under the direct glare of his superior officer, Keith Johnson could feel that he was about to break into a blush at any minute. "Well, what do *you* think? Are they traumatised enough to warrant one? Really? So your answer would be? Yes. Good, the fact that they are seeing 'demons' really says it all doesn't it?" said Kate snidely. What the hell had she done to be lumbered with Keith the 'wonder boy'? Oh, that's right, she had an opinion and had dared to use it back in Sunnydale. The fact that she had one of the best arrest records at her new precinct didn't deter her superior from lumping her with all the burnouts and dim-witted youngsters she could. She knew why she had been transferred to child pornography, she was wanted gone and people didn't last more than two to three years in that area. It was one of the hardest and ugliest sections to be assigned to, almost everyone quit after they found the constant horror had got to them too much. "Well go on. Go. To. The. Car. And. Make. The. Call. Go!" she snapped at the nervy detective, resisting the urge to smack him across the back of the head in an effort to help him think clearer. Thank God everything had gone like it had been planned. Wesley and Joyce had gone through with the meeting with Randall and the lawyer, the money transferred without a problem, something that David was going to track down as soon as they got the lawyer's laptop back to the hotel. They had waited until they had seen each of the boys, surveyed the layout of the farmhouse and the number of Randall's helpers. Surprisingly enough, there hadn't been too many people close to Randall's operation. Adam and Fletcher, both whom had been in on it from the first operation, and two more men, Leonard and Casey. All of whom were on their way to jail for kidnapping and holding people against their will. As soon as Kate had talked to the six boys, she would also be able to charge the men with rape, torture, blackmail and assault. Once Joyce and Wesley had seen the boys, they had made arrangements for one of them to be given the finishing touches before they picked him up a few days later. As Randall and Lindsey had walked their 'guests' back to their car, Riley and the other one, was it Graham, had come up from behind and managed to restrain them with only a few punches thrown. The biggest surprise had been when she had been told that Joyce had taken out Randall herself, hitting him across the back of the head with a rifle butt. Too hard apparently, Angel was sure that she had given him concussion at least, if not cracked his skull. Joyce had made the excuse that she really didn't realise how strong she was in her temporary form, not that she had shown the slightest bit of remorse about it. Made for quite the cute guy actually. If she wasn't already with David, and Joyce was going to stay that way permanently, Kate wouldn't mind giving it a try. With a groan, Kate came to the realisation that she had known Angel for too long if she was thinking like that, nothing was surprising her these days. Rubbing at her throbbing temple, she wondered if anyone had an aspirin handy. She had a very long night ahead of her; it had already been a few hours. While Angel and his friends had dealt with Randall and the lawyer, Kate had waited in her car next to Angel's, just a little way down the road from Randall's new place. Once Angel had come back to the car with Joyce in tow, the vampire had quickly told her what had happened while Joyce stayed to fill her in on a few more details of the general set-up before being picked up by Wesley on the way out, followed by Angel and the other two. Once they were a few metres down the road, she had contacted her superior and told her that she had just gotten a tip off that Randall was in the process of a business deal involving a small boy and was close by. Not that the numerous letters in the mail and 'anonymous' phone calls hadn't paved the way for her case already, something that she had done since it had been established that Randall was alive. The best idea she had come up with was getting a few of Randall's old videos from Angel and had gotten a contact to 'doctor' them so that the demon in them looked like some sort of subliminal image placed on top of a real person. These she had posted every two weeks to the precinct, addressed to her, so that Randall's case would be kept open and at the top of the local wanted list. Hearing footsteps behind her, she hoped that it wouldn't be who she thought it would be, only to be bitterly disappointed. "Detective? Detective Lockley? Er, Ma'am?" "What?" "Um, all the boys are ready to go. I've finally convinced them to come out of their rooms....Bit shy they are. I'm going to ride with them, make them feel a bit safer. I mean, if that's ok. Umm, all right with you?" Keith asked, unable to refrain himself from shifting foot to foot. Looking at the man in front of her, Kate wondered if he would last long in her charge and if maybe she could one day be able to show him another side to L.A.'s assorted nightlife. Just with that one statement, Keith had shown that he was more concerned with the victims and not the perpetrators that almost every single one of his fellow officers would be more worried about. Maybe Keith was in the right field, mused Kate as she continued to observe the now openly nervous detective. "Yeah, go with them. That's good, getting them to come out so quickly. How did you do it? I thought that they would be in their rooms for ages and that we were going to have to call Psych. Services." Keith beamed with pride at the compliment from his superior officer. "Oh...er. Ummm, just told them the truth. Told them what was going to happen down at the station and that I believed them when they said that there were demons." "You did what? Why the hell did you say that?" demanded Kate, suddenly angry that he had contributed to the boys' paranoia. "But..um, but it's true. I mean, maybe not in you know, real demon form, but there are people out there that can be classed as being so evil, they are well, 'Demons'," ventured Keith, unsure of what he said wrong. Kate paused, realising that she had most certainly found someone that she could share her knowledge and experiences with. Just a few more months of close work, build up a steady work relationship and then maybe she could start putting the youngster in some odd situations and let him come to her with any questions. If he never did come to her, then it would just prove that she was wrong and never had she felt that she was so right about someone. Releasing a heavy sigh, she eyed the embarrassed man before her. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. People like Adam and Fletcher and the other two. People like Randall Hargraves, you remember reading about him in the paper about a year ago? Good. Well, the first two guys, they were involved with Randall and the Eternal the first time around." "Oh God. We got them? That's so great but what about Randall Hargraves? He hasn't gotten away again has he?" "Oh no. I've got a hunch that we'll catch up to him real soon. Don't you worry, a person's luck can only last for so long and I think our Mr. Hargraves' has almost run out." smiled Kate, pleased to see that Keith was quick on the uptake. Kate stood looking at the younger man for a moment before he gave her a quick nod before making his way towards the car holding one of the more fragile boys. "Yep, no difference between Randall and a fucking demon. Both pure and utter evil," Kate muttered to herself as she thought about the days to come. Everything was planned down to the last little bit. In a decision between herself, Angel and everyone at the Hyperion including David, it had been decided to let Angel get as much information out of Randall as he possibly could. Kate had given him two days, after that, Randall was to be left somewhere deserted and the location called in to her precinct. Randall would then be arrested and charged with the relevant crimes. David had looked up the local Judge roster to see which Judges would be on duty for the next few weeks and when so that Kate could time the bail hearings for the most unsympathetic judges. If failing to get a good one, David was prepared to make certain errors appear in a few choice pieces of filed work and make them work for Kate's advantage. God, she was tired already and if she was, then those poor boys were already at the end of their tethers. Thank God they were nowhere near as traumatised as Angel had said the boys from Eternal had been upon being rescued. Then again, he had said it had been a delayed reaction. Maybe the shit would hit the fan later. Kate decided to go straight to the precinct and help Johnson with the boys as soon as the bomb squad had finished its sweep of Randall's place. This time, they were not taking any chances. Nope, this time, nothing was going to be left to chance. What Angel was going to do with the lawyer, she really didn't want to know. It was out of her hands entirely and she really couldn't bring herself to care. 10.31pm Xander He's always around me. Fluttering, hovering, just... there and tonight, he's closer than ever to me. Everyone is either nervous or angry about something and I don't know what. At least they aren't talking to me. Always asking me stuff. Am I all right, what do I want to do? Stupid things like that. Why do I have to do anything? Why can't I just sit and do nothing? No reading, no TV, no talking to anyone, just sitting? I don't want to talk to anyone. Doesn't matter anyway, I've hardly seen anyone. I suppose that they think they are doing the right thing, giving me space. Time to adjust and breathe. Give Xander room to breathe, let him get used to things at his own pace, that sort of thing. I suppose I should be grateful that they haven't all pounced on me yet. It makes me happy that they are staying away, doing as Spike's asking them to do. He's telling them to back off from me, tells them not to use raised voices and sudden movements like I'm a wounded animal. Suppose I am in a way, an animal. He doesn't know that most of the time I can hear him, thinks he's whispering softly enough. Not his fault though, I had to get used to listening for any signs that Master was coming to my room, be ready for him before he walked through the door. Could probably hear a pin drop in the middle of rush hour traffic. Every time that I turn around, he's there and it hurts to see him. I'm a little surprised that I feel this way but I do. I trusted him for so long. Trusted and believed that he would come and get me and it hurts that I was wrong. I'm surprised that I can actually feel surprise. Didn't think that I could feel that anymore. Thought that Master had 'surprised' me in so many ways and so often that the feeling was gone, never to return. I don't want to talk to him but he's going to ask why I'm not talking to him soon. I can feel it. The way he almost leaps at me each time it looks like I'm going to say something to him and the tiny sinking of his shoulders when he realises that I was only taking a breath or shifting in my seat. I don't want him near me, but I don't know how to tell him to go away. I don't know how to tell anybody anything anymore. I don't want Wesley talking to me. I can't understand it but he scares me. He's different, not the same safe Wesley anymore. I haven't seen Doyle yet but Spike told me that he's had an accident and that there's something wrong with him as well. I could hear his voice lose all the smugness when he talked about Doyle and that scares me too. What could make Spike talk about someone with respect? How much has changed since last time I saw them all? Why can't they all be the same? Angel hasn't changed, why have the others? I'm not sure if I want to be back. I don't want to go back to Master either but being here is scary and it wasn't before and I don't know why. One of Master's friends would take me in. I would get hurt and tired and hungry or thirsty, depending on the mood of Master's friend but it would be the same, not scary any more. I'm confused. I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what to do. I'm so tired, I just want to sleep and never wake up again. No one will talk to me then and they'll leave me alone. I can be by myself for as long as I want then. When I was asleep, Master never touched me; he said I kept him awake each time he tried to share the bed with me. He said that I would do strange things in my sleep. Spike said that I had nightmares, maybe I still have them. Maybe Spike really was telling me the truth when he said that. I thought that he was just coming up with an excuse to hold me at night. He had to use an excuse because Angel would hit him otherwise. I thought he held me because he loved me. I cried a lot at night when I first starting living at Sanity. I missed Spike terribly. I kept telling myself that everything would be okay and that tomorrow Spike would come and get me. Everyday I told myself that it would be tomorrow and tomorrow never came only Angel did. He doesn't love me but I still love him even though he lied to me and I don't know why. I don't know why I love him and I don't why he lied to me. When did he stop loving me? Did he finally decide I'm too dirty to be worth his while? Too used up, no longer fresh and pretty like Drusilla always would be? Can he smell too many other demons on me, the smell that I can never get rid of? Is it the jewellery that forever marks me as a whore? I don't know when I fell in love with him but he always made me feel safe. Even now, when I don't want him around me, I can't help but feel that if he left, I...I don't know what I would do. He makes me feel safe but I don't want him near me and that's scary. I want to be alone but I don't want to be. Everything has changed so much. If Spike asks why I'm not talking to him, I'll tell him but only if he asks. What hurts me is that he hasn't told me why he didn't come and get me like he promised. March 8, 2005 10.23 a.m. Hyperion Hotel "Everything ready?" asked a grim faced Angel. "Not a problem, we're ready right now actually." answered Wesley icily, gesturing at Joyce. "Sure that the room's secure?" "For God's sake Angel, do stop harping on about it," snapped Wesley irritably. Both he and Joyce had worked on securing the training room for two solid days after Joyce's first meeting with Randall. They had strengthened the wards that prevented anyone bar Joyce and Wesley performing magic in the room. In addition to that, Wesley had implemented a spell that would make the room untraceable to any magic user, Joyce and himself not included. Even though the two magic users had done all they could to make the room secure, there was still the possibility that someone could tear down the wards and spells encircling the room provided the witch or warlock was strong enough. It was a possibility that continued to play on everyone's nerves, Angel's most of all. The vampire was paranoid that either Randall or Lindsey would slip through their fingers again. The gag that had been forced between Lindsey's teeth prevented him from screaming at Angel to just get it over with. He had waited long enough. Once the car had stopped, both he and Randall had been hauled none too gently through the Hyperion's front doors. There had been people standing around the huge lobby. Lindsey had recognised each and every one of them. Of course he had, he had fucked them all over once, if not twice. Angel had led him through the middle of everyone, Lindsey feeling the ice-cold finger of fear tracing along his spine. He had done a double take when he fully took in just who was included in the group of people. The half demon that Tomas was having such trouble finding and Miss Chase who should still have been trapped in a winter wonderland on the other side of the earth. He had known that Doyle was back at the Hyperion but seeing him again in the flesh was another matter entirely. As Angel had dragged him passed the eerily quiet gathering, Cordelia had started to screech about how angry she was and how Lindsey was going to get what was coming to him, the whole room erupting into similar threats and promises. With an ear splitting snarl, she had told her blind fiancee just where to aim his fist. The resulting black eye that Lindsey had copped was still throbbing with a vengeance. Both he and a still unconscious Randall had been taken up to the top floor and into a cool, sterile room. There, they had been tied to the chairs that were waiting for them and left with only the presence of Riley. The smaller soldier, Graham, had taken over for his friend sometime during the early morning. All night, Lindsey had gone over the numerous possible fates that were in store for him, each one worse than the previous. Now, after being left in the chilly room for hours on end, Lindsey desperately wanted to go to the bathroom. Just a small thing he wanted to experience once again before he left the mortal world. Snapping back to the present, Lindsey gulped nervously as Angel, Wesley and Joyce started to walk towards him. As the trio approached, Lindsey tried to slow down his breathing in an attempt to appear calm and unaffected. A futile attempt as he saw Angel smirk at him. With a muffled curse, Lindsey realised that no matter how he might appear outwardly, the vampire would have no problem detecting just how scared he truly was. "You know Wes, I think Mr McDonald is feeling a little nervous about the 'talk' we're about to have with him." "But Angel, it's just a friendly little chat. Nothing to be petrified over. I mean, really, what does he think we're going to do? Beat him? Torture him? Scoop his eyes out?" "Stop it you two. Angel, Wesley, let's just get on with it. I don't want to anywhere near him if it's possible," whispered Joyce, her eyes misting over as she looked down at man in front of her. This was the man who was responsible for her daughter's untimely death. She had known that Buffy would have a shorter than normal lifespan and that was cruel, but to have it taken with such violence was unforgivable. She wanted to be gone from the room as soon as possible. It wasn't that she didn't want to see Angel and Wesley 'question' Lindsey, it was that she was unsure of what she would do to the lawyer if she remained in the room for much longer. "Mr McDonald, Lindsey. Lindsey, I can call you that can't I? Oh good. I just have to tell you something," said Joyce, her tears breaking free. She unconsciously wiped the tears from her cheeks as she continued. "I hate you. I hate your firm, I hate what you stand for but most of all...I hate *you*. You are the one that murdered my daughter. The men who terrorised us in The Magic Box may have done the actual work but *you* are the one who pulled the trigger, and even though I'm supposed to be the forgiving type... you won't ever get my forgiveness. I can't. I hate you and I *know* that you will suffer for all that you have done." "Joyce?" "Don't, Angel. Just, just don't. I want this over and done with now." Wide eyed, Lindsey felt his heart rate accelerate as he watched Joyce and Wesley start chanting, all the while they traced patterns in the air in front of them. He didn't want to watch. Lindsey knew that this was the beginning of the end for him and he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be leaving the room alive. He didn't want to watch the two magic users but he couldn't help his morbid fascination, the dance of their fingers was really quite beautiful in an odd way. The thing which captured his attention was the way Joyce was speaking with the same voice of the Englishman whom he had only met the previous evening. As the full implications hit him, Lindsey couldn't help but snigger through his gag. It was just too funny. As he listened to Wesley's strangled mutterings, Lindsey wondered at the workings of the PTB. They were slippery, no doubt about it. If there was a way to do something, they did it or got someone to do it for them and if there wasn't, then they invented one. An unexpected moan from Randall drew his attention away from the magic casters. Turning his head to the man beside him, Lindsey noted the dried blood decorating Randall's head and shirt. No one had even bothered to clean Randall up or even check if he was all right after being smacked across the head by... well, it looked like Joyce actually. As Randall continued to whimper and moan as he came to, Lindsey emitted his own groan as he realised that Joyce and Wesley had finished their spell casting for the time being. With batedbreath, the nervous man waited for something to happen. Was he going to burst into flames? Was he going to be transported to another reality? Joyce shook her hands, trying to warm them up a little as she contemplated giving the lawyer another black eye to match the one Doyle had already given him. "Joyce, can you go and get the others? Thanks." asked Angel as he cracked his knuckles, the joints popping loudly. It was such a tacky thing to do but Angel felt a grim satisfaction of seeing Lindsey flinch at the sound. With a curt nod, Joyce strode out of the chilly room and down the corridor towards Xander's room. Joyce wanted to ensure that he hadn't accidentally caught sight of Randall as both the lawyer and brothel owner had been taken to the fourth floor training room. As she got closer to the last room to her left, she heard low guttural noises coming from within the room. Steeling herself and taking a deep breath, Joyce stepped slowly into the room and felt her tears well up again as she took in the scene before her. Not saying a word, she watched as Spike sat upon the bed behind Xander, the vampire holding a thrashing and grunting Xander as gently but firmly as possible. "Is he... asleep?" Joyce asked softly when Spike took a moment to acknowledge her presence. Unable to help herself, she sniffled a little as Spike smoothed his hand over Xander's unruly hair, his fingers twisting the dark locks gently as Xander's jerking slowed down. "Yeah. Out like a light. Boy won't be awake for while," whispered Spike just as softly only to grunt in surprise as one of Xander's elbows caught him in the side. He hesitated for a few moments before releasing his hold on the sleeping boy's wrists. As he let go, Xander rolled onto his side, curling into a tight ball, the harsh grunting becoming softer until Xander's breathing indicated that he was once again in the grips of a deep sleep. Spike missed the warmth of Xander's body against his chest almost immediately and wondered just how many times he would have to place himself in between Xander and the wall in the months to come. Sighing, he checked that his charge was truly asleep before gently moving off the soft bed. Clothes pulled straight again, Spike made his way over to Joyce. "Is he always like that? So... troubled?" "The grunting's new, he's never done that before. What's happening with those fucking cunts you got stashed in the practice room?" snarled Spike, his gameface flickering swiftly across his features as he felt months of resentment and anger reach new heights. To have both the lawyer and the pimp under the same roof as him and not being allowed to join in on the questioning was something that he was feeling more and more bitter about as each minute went by. Spike acknowledged that the reason for not being seen by either men was a good one and one that he heartily agreed with. No one was going to give either Randall or Lindsey the slightest hint that Spike was in the same hotel as them. If by some remote chance that one of them managed to escape; then it would be disaster all round if Wolfram and Hart both knew who and where the soulless one was. The reasoning did nothing to change the fact that Spike wanted to be present in the room, wanted to goad his Sire and each of the other men into physically attacking the two captives. Getting them to do what he was unable to. A soft touch on his shoulder and he turned his attention back to the woman standing beside him. "On second thoughts, don't bloody well tell me. If I'm not *allowed* to join in on the fun then I don't want to fucking know about it," snarled Spike, his hands clenching in rage. With all nerves tingling from the unfairness of it all, the blond wondered just how much his Sire would complain if Spike punched a hole in the wall opposite him. Spike could feel his canines start to elongate at the thought of destroying something. Running his tongue over the sharp tip of one of his fangs, he made the decision to venture down to the gym while Xander was still asleep. Maybe he could take his frustrations out on a helpless rowing machine, shape it into some modern art. A low rumble sounded through the hotel hallway, startling both Spike and Joyce. With a glance at Joyce, the blond mock-growled at the smiling woman even as he patted at his noisy stomach. "Had breakfast?" "Nah. Went down to get some before the Whelp fell asleep again but that prick Leo has smashed the microwave. Didn't fancy a cold brekkie. The cow's gone to buy a new one" "I honestly don't know what we are going to do with him? Is it me or is he getting worse with each day that goes by?" "Who the fuck gives a shit? Not our bloody problem. Ship him to the closest loony bin for all I care." retorted Spike, his sneer growing into a wide smile as Joyce sighed at his attitude. "What on earth am I going to do with *you*?" said Joyce with a laugh. Her spirits lifting a little at the vampire's trademark acidity, she gave one last sniffle before she steered Spike from the bedroom doorway and towards the stairs. 12.01 p.m. "We need a bigger car...maybe one of those mini-vans?" stated Cordelia to her fiance. Sitting on top of her old desk, she watched as Doyle entertained a giggling Aiesha. She smiled softly as the toddler squealed with delight, Aiesha clutching at Doyle's much larger hands as he pretended to grab at her nose, the Irishman only missing the mark every now and again. "Hello? Hey...Mr 'I've got your nose'...are you listening to me?" "Of course Princess." "Yeah...then what did I just say? Hmmmm?" "Ahhhhh.... you were saying something about changing this one's diaper. Thanks beautiful, you're just too good to me." "Well that's for sure and I was saying we need a bigger car...actually a mini-van. Maybe Angel can trade in his car for a good deal on a new one?" huffed the woman as she hefted the heavy toddler off Doyle's lap and into her arms. With a sniff at the girl's bottom, she knew without a doubt that it was time for a new diaper. "Oh yeah...can just see it now. Angel and Co. to the rescue in the trusty kiddie taming mini-van. It's gonna do wonders for his reputation, the evil will be dying of laughter," snickered Doyle, listening as Cordelia rummaged around in the bottom of the ever present baby bag. A soft poofing sound reached his ears only seconds before he smelt the baby powder scent the office side of the hotel lobby. "We could always get him one of those 'Baby on board' stickers for it. Hang on, evil will still be laughing won't it?" said Cordelia, laughing along with Doyle. Plastic tabs on each side of the new diaper fastened firmly, she pulled up Aiesha's leggings and handed the clean toddler back to Doyle. "Not likely, evil will be staking itself rather than suffer the embarrassment of being offed by a vampire who has 'Sesame Street's Greatest Hits' blaring from his ride's stereo." "God, I can't believe that show is *still* going. You know, they've actually given the Count a girlfriend now?" "Cordy...I was jokin'. No such thing as the 'Street's Greatest Hits'." "Well duh! Would be good for when our own are old enough to listen to it though," said Cordelia, a large grin plastered across her face as she teased him. After waiting for Doyle to pick up on the words, she realised that her attempt at being subtle was taking a serious nosedive. Stupid idea really, she had never been subtle so it wasn't as if she should continue trying something that obviously wasn't working. Taking a deep breath, Cordelia forged ahead, "I'm pregnant." Her words freezing him in shock, Doyle sat with a squirming Aiesha on his lap. At the little girl's howl of protest, he quickly lowered her to the floor before leaning back heavily in his chair. Turning his face towards where he had last heard Cordelia's voice, he tried to think of something to say but all he could think was that he was going to be a father. Not a favoured Uncle or someone who had gotten the job of raising twins by default, but a Daddy to a child all of his own. A slow smile trekked across his face as let the news sink in. "Cordy... Princess. I, I... Holy Shit... I'm gonna be a Da!" "Got that right Mister. I'm late by almost a month now and I'm *never* late. Like clockwork," agreed Cordelia, happily nodding her head. "It's not stress is it? I heard that too much stress can make a woman a bit... you know, funny? Face it; you got stress. We all got stress at the moment, what with those two up on the top floor," said Doyle, suddenly anxious about how he would cope with an infant in his life. The smile on his face dropped away only to be replaced by a look of sadness as he thought of how he would never be able to see if his child had inherited his green eyes or Cordelia's Hollywood style smile. In twenty years time, would he even remember what the colour green looked like? With that thought, he couldn't help but reach a hand up to touch hesitantly at the thick scarring that marred his face. "What? No way are you dragging *those two* pricks into this conversation. I refuse to think about them until Angel and the others are done with them, and I'm telling you right now that with all the home tests I bought, I'm probably the major shareholder in the company," Cordelia snapped, her own smile disappearing as she felt her heart wrench at the sad look upon her fiancee's face. A flicker of anger flared up in her as she watched Doyle's fingers lightly trace over the scarred areas of where his eyes used to be. She knew that it was going to take a lot longer for the scarred Irishman to be comfortable with how he looked to his friends, let alone outsiders. A grimace settled upon Cordelia's face as she remembered how upsetting it had been to watch as Doyle had flinched whenever Aiesha and Gonturan had managed to touch his face when they played with him. True, he didn't do it much now but the fact remained that he would start to jerk away before forcing himself to relax when she touched his face. It was something that they hadn't yet talked about. Breaking the silence that had settled over the lobby office, Cordelia ventured to ask a question. "You're worried about what the baby will think of your face aren't you?" "Of course I bloody well am! Look at me? I'm a fucking freak. I'll give the kid nightmares not to bloody well mention all the stirring it's gonna get when I turn up at parent-teacher nights." "Don't you give me your self pitying crap and if other parents point fingers at you, they can deal with me and anyway, that sort of thing is years away. We can deal with all that later. We don't have to now" "What the fuck do I have to offer a kid? I sit behind a bloody desk every day, answering phones? In between doing that and typing out useless bits of shit just to relieve the boredom, I spend the rest of my time rolling on the friggin' floor with a blinding headache. Yeah, fucking great 'father' material," snapped the half-demon, his fears obliterating any joy he was feeling about becoming a father. Steeling himself mentally, he waited for what was sure to be a vicious backlash from the younger woman, only to be surprised when there was none forthcoming. After what seemed like a lengthy silence, Doyle couldn't keep quiet much longer. "Cordy?" "Are the twins scared of your face? Is Christopher? Are any of us? What you look like won't matter to our child. I'm not going to let you throw in the towel over something like that, you haven't yet so you sure as hell aren't going to use *that* as an excuse to do it." "I'm not giving up... throwing in the fucking towel or doin' whatever. Cordy, this is so not the right time for a baby or for you to be pregnant. If, if something happens... I *can't* protect you... help you?" "Yeah, 'if'. That's an appropriate word, 'if'," snorted Cordelia as she tried not to let Doyle's concerns start to worry her. Slowly, she walked over towards the desk that he was still sitting at. Cordelia pushed numerous bills out of her way before sitting down on top of it. "Fuck! I couldn't even help you before. Even with me eyes, you know?" said Doyle, his words tapering off to a whisper as he let Cordelia remove his hands from his face. With a sigh, he joined his fingers with her slightly longer ones and felt his fears lessen as he took comfort in Cordelia's close presence. "No one could have helped before. *God.* I know it... Joyce knows it. Everyone including you knows it. It happened and there's nothing we can do about that apart from beating the crap out of the guys who did it when we find them." "I know. I know," he murmured as Cordelia slid from the desk top onto his lap. Shifting in his seat so that they were both comfortable, Doyle asked where Aiesha was, his solemn statement lifting into a soft smile when he was told that the toddler had ventured towards the kitchen and Spike. "What's a bet her every second word will start with 'F' in another five minutes?" "Pfffft! Not as if she isn't going to learn it from school when she's older anyway? This way, our girls are going to be the stars of the school. Setting the trend with each step." Both Doyle and Cordelia felt the tension between them drift away with their laughter over Spike's influence when it came to the twins. As they felt themselves relax into each other, a comfortable silence drifted down upon the lobby office, the two of them making the most of a few quiet minutes together. The time drifted by slowly, only interrupted now and again by muffled shrieks of laughter coming from the direction of the kitchen. With each laugh, the engaged couple couldn't help but giggle a little themselves, both wondering just how Spike was entertaining the toddler. "Hey Princess, we better get the kid back before Spike encourages her to seek out the dark side." "Yeah right and let's look at how well a career in evil has worked out for that bleached idiot shall we? Please, he's more harmless than a geriatric hamster." "Remember what happened the last time Ginny was left alone with him for more tha... Ahhhhhh... Jesus!" Clutching both hands tightly to the sides of his head, Doyle barely registered the fact that Cordelia had leapt from his lap and was now awkwardly rubbing his shoulders. His face scrunched into a tight grimace as wave after wave of agony flowed around his mind; Doyle tried to makes sense of what his latest vision was showing him. "White walls.... Ugh... Bed, one bed... Someone in the room... Holy fuck this hurts... Ummmmm, nothing but white... It's so *bright* like all the lights are on... Ooooohhh... It's a guy, never seen him before... What the fuck?" "What? What do you mean 'what the fuck'?" demanded Cordelia, rubbing the back of Doyle's neck in attempt to stop the usual after vision stiffness from taking a secure hold. With long firm strokes, she ran her fingers up and down his nape, only just touching on his shoulders. "This is too fucking weird!" "God Doyle, just tell me?" "It's raining. It's raining *in* the desert. Thunder, lightening and rain, the whole show but nothing is getting wet. Its like it's not real. It's not right. Cordy?" "Yeah?" "The white room. It's raining in there as well but everything looks bone dry. Everything but that guy, he's soaking wet." Wolfram and Hart Secure Room 5 Clearance level - Alpha Prime 2.57 p.m. Soon. Only days to go. Everything was prepared and the only thing left to do was to wait until the locating spell had finalised a destination point for the numerous souls that had been procured. They were feeling odd, unusual. There was an emotion flowing through their bodies, one that had been felt only on a mere handful of times previously, each of the Original Senior Partners were at a loss as to how to describe just which emotion it was they were currently experiencing. A dull roar echoed through the pitch black chamber as the 'youngest' of them, instead of being able to identify the emotion, it allowed itself to grow frustrated at its confusion. As the booming sound echoed around the otherwise empty room, the 'eldest' Original Senior Partner merely sneered and curled one of its many lips into a gesture of superiority, a gesture that was unknowingly copied by it's favourite companion. "Yes, I know. It must be so exciting to see your many years of waiting finally coming to a close," beamed Holland as he rubbed his hands together in an effort to hide how they were shaking. Standing to the one side of the huge room, Wolfram and Hart's public face wanted nothing more than to seek comfort and reassurance in the arms of his wife. As much as he appreciated just how much the Originals had done for both his personal life and career, nothing would ever make just a single second in their presence palatable. Gone were the times in which he had been bedridden for days after just five minutes in their presence, shaking and delirious from the shock of being exposed to the Originals' odour. Now, Zachary Holland was well used to the after effects of a visit to the top floors of Wolfram and Hart but try as he might, he could never get comfortable being in their presence. In all the years he had served them, he had never once seen them. Smelt them, touched them, tasted them but never seen them. That particular gift was reserved for the one who would host the 'Soul of Blood'. Someone whom each hour was a step closer to being identified. A solid crash to his left signalled that it was time for Holland to take a step forward and as he did, Holland wondered just what he would have to do this time. As the bile rose in the back of his throat, he reminded himself to start getting Lindsey McDonald prepared for his first meeting with the Original Senior Partners. Arms open wide, Holland felt his shoe brush against something soft on the ground in front of him. His shudder hidden as best as possible, he felt a flash of compassion for Lilah Morgan. Too bad she hadn't continued to show the same promise she had when she had first been hired. Another step forward, Holland promptly forgot about what was left of the woman as he opened his mouth and tilted his head back, waiting for the inevitable. Its huge head raised from its comfortable position on the wool carpet, the 'middle aged' Original Partner ran the human's words through its mind a few more times. Excited. It knew that it had felt such an emotion before. Was this what it was feeling? It had been hundreds of years since it had been able to identify such simple things like a single emotion. Excitement. The word rolled off its tongue in an uncomplicated pattern, the snarl smothering the cries of ecstasy from the lone human. It liked the word. It would keep the identity of the emotion to itself, ignoring the glances of the other two Originals as its scent mellowed from confused to calm. Not long now. Just a few more days and then all three would be free from having to mingle with the 'insects' that had overrun what had once been such a promising plane of existence. March 8, 2005 6.21 pm Dock Six, L.A. Piers "Jesus Christ, how the hell does that man live with himself?" muttered Riley, glancing behind him one last time as he strode back towards where he had parked Joyce's car. Door unlocked and opened, he sat himself in behind of the steering wheel and leaned over and unlocked the passenger door. As Graham slid into the car beside him, Riley voiced his question again. "You heard him Ri. Just business." "But... humans, demons... Christ, that's disgusting," Riley shot back at his best friend. For once, Riley was somewhat annoyed at how calmly Graham was taking what Randall had revealed of his illegal operations. Even though Graham tended to take everything calmly, Riley couldn't really understand how the other man wasn't as angry as everyone else had been at what Randall had disclosed. Swearing under his breath as Graham shrugged his shoulders, Riley pulled out his mobile phone and set about informing Kate of Randall Hargrave's location. Once done, he started the engine and drove away from the Dock Six and the numerous shipping containers. All empty but the very last one. Driving back into the heart of L.A., Graham wondered how Angel and Wesley were going with questioning the lawyer from Wolfram and Hart. He was quite interested in finding out what the firm was up to this time and just what the consequences would be if they weren't stopped. Head twisted to one side, Graham massaged a tense nerve in the hope of receiving a little relief. Although he knew he wasn't showing it, Graham was relieved that Randall was out of the hotel at last. What the older man had eventually revealed about his business dealings had been horrifying. Not just how he had trained Xander and the rest of the kidnapped boys but how many other non-Hellmouth youths had been used and eventually murdered in the pursuit of pleasure. When came down to the crunch, Xander was actually quite lucky to have been born on the Hellmouth... sort of. The most worrying revelation had been the names and contact numbers of the people and demons who ran some of the now known twenty two slavery rings throughout the United States. To know that there was one being run specifically in Hollywood, one that specialised in procuring wannbe actresses and actors for an overseas human market, was quite a startling thought indeed. Made sense thought Graham, the one in Hollywood. No-one was going to bother reporting another up and coming starlet who had suddenly skipped out without paying the rent. With that thought in mind, he wondered out of the numerous missing persons reported each year, how many were actually still alive and living out a life of slavery. He honestly hoped that the ones who had been sold to demons had been lucky and found themselves with an owner like W'nth. Shuddering slightly, Graham suddenly found himself trying not to drop the ringing cell phone that had been thrust at him. Depressing the 'talk' button, he was about to speak only to be cut off by Cordelia's loud demands. "Uh-huh, ri-" "Yep, but th-" "Right, how is..." "Mmmm." Taking his eyes off the road for just a moment, Riley looked towards his best friend as Graham struggled to talk over whoever was on the other end of the line. As Graham finished the call, Riley asked who it was. "Cordelia. Forget about the groceries, we gotta go back now." "Why?" "Shit's hit the fan," said a stern faced Graham, giving Riley a serious glance as he handed the phone back. "Crap!" "Yeah Ri, pretty much." "Well, tell me?" asked an impatient Riley as he felt chills go down his spine. "Just what the hell else could go wrong?" he thought. As he clicked on the indicator to turn left, Riley gave a shudder as he felt someone walk over his grave. "Didn't say much, we just got the orders to get back?" "What's Cordelia doing manning the phones? Where's Doyle?" Riley enquired. Since Doyle had taken over the office from Joyce, the half-demon was the one to tell everyone what was happening and where. As odd as it was, whenever anyone had to call someone who was away from the Hyperion, Doyle was always the one to make the official call. To have someone else call the mobile phone apart from Doyle, or even Angel, made Riley feel a little on edge. "Uhhh... Doyle's part of the problem. Been having a vision since the moment we left apparently. Still having it but he's seeing something to do with a military base." "Shit! That was over an hour ago!" exclaimed Riley, appalled that Doyle had been suffering the intense vision pain for so long. Foot planted hard against the accelerator, he refused to acknowledge that he was well on the way to earning Joyce a speeding ticket in his effort to get back quickly. Tomas' Inner Workrooms 6.35 pm Yawning, Tomas rubbed at his eyes as he continued to attempt to work out what was happening with the location spell for 'Soul of Blood' host. It had been while now since he had cast the spell and according to Holland, the Original Senior Partners were starting to get a bit testy at how long the spell was taking. Can't blame them really, thought Tomas, squinting into the bowl of blood once again. Not only was he feeling rather homesick, he was also missing his brother. Where Ethan was, was a question that constantly nagged at him. Even though his brother was a complete rogue, Ethan had always give Tomas a weekly phone call, no matter where he had been in the world. When Tomas hadn't heard from Ethan for three weeks running, he decided to try a location spell in an attempt to determine what type of trouble Ethan had landed in. Again. No matter how many times Tomas had tried the location spell for Ethan, nothing ever came to fruition. After the spell had failed a few times, he had tried another tack. This time he had contacted the spirit world in an effort to find out if his brother was dead. When his spirit guide had told him that Ethan was still alive, Tomas had been greatly relieved. After two months of Ethan's unexplained absence, Tomas had been forced to look through his brothers personal belongings and thanks to a 'black hole' created in Ethan's private mail box, he had gotten a stepping stone to his first lead as to his brothers whereabouts. Mostly it had been just junk mail advertising and discount coupons for Ethan's favourite store, the only other mail had been from a law firm in America, each one identical. Politely handwritten requests for a meeting to be set up between Ethan and a Mr Gerald Winter and Ms. Caroline Finzern. It hadn't been until Tomas had collected eight of the letters that he had decided to try and find out if Wolfram and Hart knew anything about where his brother might be. After a lengthy phone call to Ms. Finzern, Tomas had found himself on the next plane to L.A. and a new job. Wolfram and Hart had promised to do what it could to find out where his brother might be, the only information as to where Ethan might have been was a rumour of a now defunct military operation that had been based in Sunnydale. With a sigh, Tomas rubbed once again at his weary eyes as he watched the silver web dance across the bowl of blood. The image twisted and contracted continuously as the occasional flare of colour was flashed across the thin strands that made up the spider like web. Every now and then, the delicate glimmering pattern was coloured for an instant by a solid colour, only to have the colour disappear again underneath a myriad of others. Tomas looked on as the webbing displayed colours like green, gold and blue. In an effort to distract himself from the almost overwhelming boredom, Tomas had found himself playing a guessing game as to which colour would be displayed next. Red? Black? Maroon? Blue? Still blue mused Tomas. Blue. Blueblueblueblue...Hang on, blue? With a triumphant cry that echoed through the almost claustrophobic room, Tomas realised that the webbing had finally settled upon a single colour. At last! The first sign that the spell was narrowing down the possible candidates for the 'Soul of Blood'. As more individual colours were chosen and displayed in a separate part of the silver webbing, the better the photo like image of the person or demon would become. As it was, Tomas still wasn't too sure whether the host would be a human or even a demon and according to Holland, not even the Original Senior Partners had an inkling of who it would be. As gently as he could, Tomas encouraged the solid colour to crawl over the fine silver threads until it had reached one corner of the web. His hands shaking, he reached to the one side of him and carefully took up an empty bowl, placing it a few inches away from the huge bowl of blood that hosted the location spell. Ever so slowly, Tomas got to his feet, all the while trying to ignore the cramps in his legs that were threatening to force him back onto the floor again. On stiff legs, Tomas shuffled awkwardly to the little bar fridge that was sitting in one corner of the tiny room. Fridge door opened, he got out one of the bags of fresh blood that lay on the middle shelf. Pausing for moment just to stretch his legs a little more, Tomas then proceeded back towards the thin yellow plastic that was spread out upon the floor. With a heavy sigh and a wince from the ache in his legs, he sat himself back down on the floor, in front of the two bowls. Glancing into the enormous bowl, Tomas barely missed knocking into the side of the three foot wide holding container as he painfully crossed his legs again. Drawing a sharp breath over the near accident, he felt his heart skip a beat as he wondered just what the consequences would be if he was indeed, forced to start over again. Taking several deep breaths to calm his nerves, Tomas took up a small pair of scissors from beside the much smaller bowl and cut a tiny opening in one end of the blood packet. Tomas filled the second bowl to just below the brim with blood before dribbling a thick trail of the liquid down one side of the bowls clay side and allowing it to form a small puddle at its base. From there, he continued to pour the blood in a straight line to the larger bowl. Holding the cool package just above the silver webbing, Tomas very carefully let a few drops from the bagged blood fall into the area coloured solely by an icy blue. Once done, he again dribbled a trail of blood down one side of the bowl and onto the yellow tarp until both trails of blood met. With only a few butterflies in his stomach, the Warlock fought to concentrate on the delicate task ahead even as his excitement threatened to overflow. Ever so softly, Tomas whispered the words that would encourage the solid ice blue colour in the one corner of the silver webbing to move itself along the trail of blood and into the new smaller bowl. When that had been achieved, Tomas would then place the newly hosted colour along side one wall of the tiny room. As this was being finished, Tomas turned back to watch as the silver webbing dulled to a dark grey colour, the myriad of other colours that had been flickering across it only a few minutes before, fading into non existence. A weary but satisfied smile trekked its way across his face just before Tomas found himself yawning with all his might. At a glance of his watch, he realised that he had been holed up in the old utility closet for over eight hours. No wonder he was tired. Tomas was hoping that it wouldn't take as long each time that the webbing came a step closer to identifying the host for the 'Soul of Blood'. Unfortunately, at this slow rate, it was going to take weeks for the host to be identified let alone found. Shrugging to himself as he yawned again, Tomas felt himself go weak at the knees as a wave of blackness descended swiftly upon his mind, one of his last thoughts was of why he was dreaming of his still missing brother giving him directions to the Hyperion Hotel. His body hitting the floor heavily, the unconscious Warlock missed seeing the location spell's webbing start glowing a bright silver as an explosion of colour commenced to flicker over it again. March 8, 2005 Hyperion Hotel 6.45 pm "What do you mean you don't know what's up at Wolfram and Hart?" demanded an ever increasingly angry Angel. "It's true! I *don't* know what the latest issue is at the firm. Look, I've told you all I know, things that I shouldn't be telling you anyway. Things that are going to get me killed. By you. By Wolfram and Hart. By fucking Fate. I don't know but one way or the other, I'm dead," spat Lindsey as he tried in vain to convince Angel and his friends that he had no idea of what was happening on the upper levels of Wolfram and Hart. "Like I'm caring!" shot back the game-faced vampire. After staring down the shivering lawyer for a moment more, Angel grabbed Wesley by the upper arm and led him into the far corner of the room as W'nth went to stand next to Lindsey, a shotgun cradled in his hand. With a glance towards W'nth doing his best to appear intimidating, Angel proceeded to turn his back on the lawyer and ask Wesley if the truth spell had in fact worked. "Ahngul, Um gowing tho punth you onth day," Wesley calmly stated as he sighed at Angel's question. "Yeth, Um thore thath ith worktheth." As Wesley watched Angel's game-face melt back into his human features, the ex-watcher told Angel that the truth spell lasted for a full twenty four hours once cast and just because they weren't getting far with the questions asked so far, it didn't mean that it wasn't working. Both men jumped as the rooms intercom buzzed, Cordelia's voice filling the room for all to hear. "Hey guys, vision's over. Doyle's out of it though so me and the others are going to try and figure out who this 'rain guy' is and just where he is, okay?" Slightly puzzled as to why he had just smelt an increase in the scent of fear that was surrounding Lindsey, Angel turned so he could look directly at the lawyer as he answered Cordelia's question. As he made eye contact with the other man, the vampire was slightly disturbed to see Lindsey had started to sweat. With a finger pressing down on the intercom button, Angel continued to talk to Cordelia even as he gestured at Wesley to go back over to Lindsey and W'nth. "That's great Cordelia. Is he all right? I mean, it was a long one this time. Just buzz me when you figure out something...anyway, Wes and I won't be long up here," said Angel, resisting the urge to smirk as he watched Lindsey take a deep swallow. "No problem and no, he's not okay. He's out cold. At least the pain is gone, I hope. Anyway, just Joyce and me at the moment but I'm gonna get the others to put their thinking caps on. Can you just like, hurry up with that asshole? Oh, and Wes? With Joyce helping, that means you're shutting up for now." With that, Cordelia informed them that they had her permission to beat Lindsey as much as they liked, although she wasn't about to clean blood from the carpet. Without responding to her last comment, Angel stalked back over to Lindsey and the others, determined to find out all he could before he lost control and killed the lawyer. "Alright, what's got you all in a sweat now?" demanded Angel, full game-face only a few inches away from the shivering man's own. "Fuck off! You think you can scare me with that sorry display? You truly are insane. No wonder all your kids are nutters," sneered Lindsey in an act of false bravado. "If you know what's good for you, you'll start providing answers to questions," replied Angel with a matching sneer. At the end of his tether, Lindsey roared that he couldn't answer questions that he didn't know the answers for, not paying any attention as W'nth took a few steps back from him. "You want answers? Well, how about asking me fucking questions that I can answer? Huh? Ever thought about that?" "Right. Wes, you write them, I'll punch them out of this bastard," Angel snarled. At Wesley's brief shake of a head, Angel toned down his snarl into a low growl and finally into a disappointed grimace as Wes continued to shake his head in a firm 'no' gesture. With a sigh, Angel continued. "Fine. Okay, let's see? You organised everything to do with Randall and Sanity. You organised everything that happened at the Magic Box, right? And you have no idea of what's going down with the Senior Partners at Wolfram and Hart? Am I right?" "Yes, fuck you very much! Jesus. We've been through all this," stated Lindsey, his calm façade belying his racing heart. He knew any minute that Angel was going to ask a question that would earn him a punch as he responded to it. "Obviously you're too far down the scale not to know such things. Not quite as important as you like to think you are Lindsey. Mmm, not so mouthy now, are you. Magic Box, explain." "Not much to say. You saw what was planned and how it panned out. Get rid of the strongest links first. Get what was needed and make sure that no one could follow. Use whatever means necessary to get what was required," said Lindsey, a little smile on his face as he watched Wesley's face flush with anger. "Above all, don't let the stock get damaged." "Woo pwick! Thoths boyths aww noth *Stokth* bwudy humanth beingths," shouted an outraged Wesley, barely able to restrain himself from lashing out at the smug lawyer. "I'm sorry. Are you able to speak a little clearer? I'm not sure I understood that. You seem to be having a little trouble with your tongue." Having sneered his taunt with all the courage he could muster, Lindsey wasn't too surprised to suddenly find himself unable to breathe as Wesley's hard fist met with his stomach. "Wes..." warned Angel, taking a crumpled note pad from Wesley's hand and throwing to the ground. Pressing his face into Lindsey's coughing and wheezing one, Angel laid it out straight. "Lindsey, you're not going back to Wolfram and Hart. As much as I really want to do an old-fashioned fox and hound hunt with you, I can't risk you getting out of this room. Tell me what I want to know and it'll be quick." "Yeah, right. Promises, promises. What are you gonna do? Swear a Scouts honour?" Lindsey said with a slight wheeze as his breath returned to him slowly. Looking into Angel's eyes, he was struck with the realisation that he might as well just sell everyone out now because there was no way in hell that he was ever going home again. "Why did you sell the twins and Cordelia? What happened with Doyle and where the fuck is Willow?" "Not sure if the twins would turn out special or not, you know, their mother being an ex-vengeance demon and all, so I was ordered to place them out of the way but within easy reach should we need to get them. Ms Chase was going to a demon brothel, same as the boys, but stocked with females until the twins' buyer decided that she liked Cordelia's spunk and bought her as well. Got more money for her than what the whorehouse offered. Holland was pleased with that." "Wes, remind me to thank Holland on Cordelia's behalf would you?" replied a grim faced Angel as he gestured for Lindsey to continue. "Mr. Doyle had his eyes removed for sale to a private client. Needed to use the eyes in some sort of ritual." "Name, address and phone number." "Can't remember, not sure and back at the office... Ahhh. Owwww!" howled the bound lawyer as Angel ripped a fistful of hair from his head with one almighty tug. "Holy shit, you fucker! You are such a goddamn girl. You're the big bad Angelus. Aren't you supposed to be torturing me wi-unnnngh." Ignoring the small droplets of blood that decorated his right fist, Angel found himself smiling with a grim satisfaction at watching Lindsey trying to recover from an punch to the mouth that was backed by sheer demon strength. Even though Angel knew that Lindsey was telling the truth to his previous question because of the truth spell, he felt justified in punching the smartass. God, he was just aching to get to work on Lindsey with a good assortment of blunt and sharp objects. Hell, he was even thinking of getting Spike in the room for his input once the questioning was over. "With this attitude Lindsey, you're on the way to earning yourself a *really* painful death, like Jonathan's for example. So, cut the shit and keep talking," snarled Angel, his smile growing a little larger as Lindsey's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the Jonathan's gruesome death. At W'nths quiet snort of derision, Angel realised that he still had a hunk of hair clenched tightly in one fist. Wes held out a small plastic container to Angel, silently asking for the hair. As Wes returned the container to the nearby bookcase, Angel wondered what Wes would do with the hair. "Fuck! Kept telling Holland that we should have leaned on Darla enough so that she would stake you. None of this have sex and lose his soul bullshit," moaned Lindsey as the pain from his abused scalp radiated down towards his shoulders, even as his mouth started to regain some feeling. With a quick swipe of his tongue around his mouth, he realised that Angel had chipped a tooth. God only knew if he had swallowed chipped piece or not. "Should've just set fire to this place but no, no-one gets rid of Angel until the orders come down from the top. What fucking bullshit." "Yeah, yeah Lindsey. We've already heard this. The amnesty on us is going to be lifted in a few weeks and then it's a free for all with our heads being the big prize. Come on, Willow; why, where and how do we get her back?" "Ms. Rosenberg was a special case, being a witch. Couldn't risk her causing havoc so Tomas and Holland placed her somewhere special. Don't ask me where because I don't know. I *can* tell you that she's not here. Not here on this dimension. I swear that's all I know about Ms. Rosenberg." "Are you for real? So, I have to ask Holland and Tomas where she is really nicely?" asked Angel as he felt yet another problem grow in size. He had honestly hoped that by questioning Lindsey, he would know exactly what was going on at Wolfram and Hart and where to find Willow. Unfortunately, it looked like Lindsey was too far down the totem pole to be much help although the news about the amnesty being lifted had certainly come in handy. At least they could prepare for it in some way. "Yeah, pretty much. You've seen the results of Tomas' handiwork; he's a total sweetheart. A real nutter, crazier than his brother and as for Holland, I wish you luck in even trying to get into the same building as him." "Save your wishes for later. Tomas, tell me more about him. Everything." "Not much to tell. Not Wolfram and Hart's original choice. He's apparently a fully-fledged Dark Arts practitioner. Scary shit and I'm sure you know what sort of stuff they deal with. They wanted his brother, Ethan Raine, but the older brother got kidnapped by some now defunct US military thing a few years back. Got taken out to the desert somewhere. Never seen or heard of again. Even with the firm's influence, nothings come of the numerous questions and bribes thrown around. It's assumed that he's dead so that just left his younger brother. He came over to work for the firm while continuing to search for his brother." Butting in, Angel took up the thread of the conversation. "Yeah, and I'm assuming that Wolfram and Hart haven't informed Tomas about his brothers last whereabouts, have they? Let me guess, they're just stringing him along and getting him to do what they want while they keep throwing him little hints as to where his brother may be just so that it keeps him in the country. Am I right and speaking of his 'handiwork', where is Spike?" "You're right. The big talk is that Tomas won't be needed for much longer anyway; he's lost that fucked up Childe of yours. Can't find him no matter how hard he tries, Tomas is casting location spells for him everyday but the general opinion is that Spike is gone for good and let me tell you now, Holland is not happy with that. He's to be relieved of his duties about the same time that the ceasefire on you is lifted, providing he's completed whatever Holland has him doing now. I do know that he and Holland are working on something big for the Original Senior Partners. Jesus Angel, I need to pee, now!" "I'm sure you've pissed on the floor before, so this time will be just a trip down memory lane and as for that Childe of mine, that's just another problem that's been solved hopefully. Keep talking, I'm not interested in providing you with luxuries," snapped Angel, choosing to ignore the growing distress that showed on Lindsey's face and feeling relieved that the firm had no clue as to where Spike currently was. Hopefully, the bluff would pay off later on, how though was just another question. "Come on Lindsey, how do we get to Holland?" "Asshole! And you can't just *get* to Holland, I'm not sure if anyone can. No-one knows where he lives, hell, there's rumours that he lives one of the upper levels of the building itself," snarled back Lindsey, desperately trying to hold on to the stream of urine that was threatening to gush at any moment. "Really? How interesting and which floor would that be? Times marching on boy." "I don't know but the four top floors are only for people with an Alpha Prime clearance. I've only heard of Tomas, Holland and the Senior Partners having that clearance. No one knows what's up there. I mean, its been said that there are three *things* up there. Huge dragon like creatures that just sit all day and night but no-one I know has ever seen them and if Holland and Tomas know what is up there, they aren't telling anyone else." Sharing a curious look with Wesley, Angel glanced at W'nth for a moment to see if he had heard of the 'creatures' but at the other demons slight head shake, he gestured for Lindsey to continue his story. "Do these 'creatures' have a name, species, description other than the shit that you just told us?" asked Angel, leaning against a solid aluminium bookshelf, his arms crossed firmly against his chest as he eyed off the shivering lawyer. With his teeth chattering, Lindsey demanded once again to be allowed to relieve his protesting bladder only to be ignored by all others in the chilly room. Adjusting himself slightly so that he had a better chance of holding onto the urine, Lindsey tried another demand, this time for one of the thick sweaters that Wesley was currently wearing. As he was ignored a second time, Lindsey answered Angel's question. "Assholes! Nothing. I know absolutely nothing except for what I've just told you. Look, from the time that I started at Wolfram and Hart there have been these stories about the 'haunted' upper four floors of the building. You know, the usual ones. People who go to the top only rarely come back down, people on the floors directly underneath saying that from time to time they can hear banging and crashing right above their heads. Sometimes they say they can hear screaming but we all just shrug them off as stories being told to scare the shit out of newcomers to the firm. Anyway, it's just the Senior Partners and the Original Senior Partners that are up on those floors. Shit, each one has almost half a floor to himself. But I can tell you that each Friday afternoon, the floor directly underneath the Alpha Prime floors is closed early and Tomas is the only one allowed up there until the building closes for the night." "And? Well, keep going. I'm sure that you have a *lot* more to tell us Lindsey." "What the hell do you want to know now? Look, I'm sure that I can tell you more after I've taken a leak. Come on. Please, for Christ's sake Angel, I'm gonna burst right now!" pleaded Lindsey, his stomach cramping from a combination of the cold, Wesley's punch and the effort of trying not to piss on the floor. Never in a million years had he ever thought that he would one day be begging his most hated enemy to use a bathroom but that was what he was doing and he hated himself for having to do it. "Senior Partners and Original Senior Partners. Tell me." "Angel, fine, whatever, you're the one that cleans it up I suppose. Senior Partners are Lockerby, Southam and Fitzgerald. They always travel together; you can never find one without the others. How to find them? Ask Holland if you can get close to him. No one knows how to contact them. We just get told to beep them if they are needed or leave a message with their secretaries. The Senior Partners really only look after the legal side of the firm, you know, the *legal* business," said Lindsey with a deep sigh as his legs started to go numb from the long hours of just sitting on a hard chair in a cold room. Thankfully, with his legs numb, that meant that he was no longer feeling the dull ache in his knees, hopefully his arms would be next, his aching shoulders were getting hard to cope with. With that thought, Lindsey tried to rotate his stiff shoulders a little but that action just proved that the ropes binding his arms behind his back had been tied too securely to allow much movement. "Gee, what a suprise Wes, fancy Wolfram and Hart actually having a legit side to it? Right, Original Senior Partners, what or who are they, and where does Holland fit into all this?" "I have no idea of who they are, like the Senior Partners, the Originals are always spoken of as a collective. There are three of them as well. I haven't met with them myself but Holland and Tomas talk with them on a weekly basis. Us 'little people' don't get to meet with the big bosses until we've reached Junior Partner status. You know, that's where your friends' heads are going to come in handy. Anyone who brings back a head gets automatically promoted to Junior Partner," snickered Lindsey, a little aghast at how he was tempting Angel to punch him again. At both Angel's and Wesley's growls of anger, the lawyer hurriedly continued. "Okay, okay. Holland. Well, he's a bit different. He's the man that knows everything and I mean *everything* that goes on in the building and your own personal life. He could tell me what colour jocks I had on for the whole of last March. You think about him and just when you're drawing a breath, he's there, right at your side. It's fucking scary shit at times. Hell, I don't even know *what* he does at the firm but the Senior Partners always run things through him if they are unsure about something. Don't ask me where his office is, I don't know. If he ever needs to talk to you, he just comes to see you. Like the Senior Partners, if you need to talk to him, you just beep him or leave a message with his secretary on the floor underneath the Alpha Prime floors." "Christ Lindsey, you don't know much do you? Just what the fuck do you *know*? Hmmm, how about you continue to enlighten us?" snapped Angel, the frustration of getting nowhere with the questioning starting to get to him. Just as he shifted himself from his increasingly uncomfortable position against the hard bookcase, Angel was startled to hear an alarm ring through the room. MMMMMMEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEP... "Wes, tell me that's not what I think it is?" "What the hell is that? Shit, if that's a fire alarm, untie me now!" With an order for an equally startled W'nth to keep an eye on Lindsey, Angel and Wesley quickly ran over to the intercom on the other side of the large room. As the alarm continued to sound through the room, Angel's heart sank as Wesley informed him that the alarm only sounded when someone was using magic with the intent on getting past the numerous wards that both he and Joyce had placed on the Hyperion. MMMMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEP... "Jesus Wes, just when will that thing shut off?" Angel asked, as both he and Wesley covered their ears from the piercing alarm. "Onwy whunth thuy sthopth tethting thu wardth" replied an exasperated Wesley. When he had read about the spell, there had been no mention of just how loud it actually was. With grimace, he looked towards W'nth and took in how the furred demon had both of his usually upright ears flattened close to its skull in an obvious sign of annoyance at the continuing sound. A mouthed apology later, Wes found himself trying to reassure Angel that the wards were strong and that it would take someone hours to tear them down if it ever came down to that. MMMMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMMEEEEP... "Can you and Joyce try and find out who is testing the wards? I really hope its not Tomas, as much as I want to rip his limbs off for what he did to Spike, I just don't want to deal with him at the moment...actually, not at all if it can be helped." Nodding at what Angel had asked, Wesley gave Angel a reassuring pat on his lower arm, letting his much warmer hand linger on the black clad limb for a few moments before leaving Angel and W'nth to keep guard over Lindsey until Graham and Riley could take over for them. March 8, 2005 Hyperion Hotel 7.06 pm MMMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMEEEEP... MMMMMMMMMEEEEP.... ~~Gotta get to the boy..gotta keep him safe..gotta get to the boy..gotta keep him safe~~ Running down the corridor, away from the hotel's gym and towards the large flight of stairs that would take him to the fourth floor, Spike found that he was consumed by only two thoughts. His ability to protect Xander and the need to be as close to the young man as possible, the ongoing litany in his mind pushing the sound of the constant ringing of the tripped ward alarms to a place where he was barely hearing it. ~~Gotta get to the boy..gotta keep him safe..gotta get to the boy..gotta keep him safe~~ As he reached the top of third floor stairs, Spike saw someone coming down them towards him. Without waiting for the other man to speak, Spike gave the other person an almighty shove out of the way, sending them tumbling down the stairs, all the while refusing to give into the pain in his head that had him howling above the ongoing alarm. Piercing pain that was making a determined effort to cloud his mind. ~~Gotta get to the boy..gotta keep him safe..gotta get to Dru gotta keep her safe~~ With bright stars dancing across his vision, Spike snarled and growled as he was momentarily reduced to trying to crawl on his hands and knees to the first steps of the fourth floor stairs. Shaking his head in both frustration and pain, he felt his way up two of the steps even as the pain and stars started to dissipate. A flare of anger shot through him just as he managed to stand on his feet again. Barely pausing enough to regain his balance, Spike continued up the stairs, concentrating only on getting to Xander. MMMMMMMEEEEP... MMMMMMMMEEEEP... MMMMMMMMMEEEEEEP... ~~Gotta get to the boy..gotta keep him safe..gotta get to Xander..gotta keep Dru safe~~ Turning into the fourth floor corridor on his right, Spike allowed his growling to evolve into harsh guttural snarling, his field of vision narrowing until it was focused on only one thing, Xander. With an ear splitting howl of triumph, Spike lunged as fast as his demon speed could take him towards the young man standing by the elevator door. ~~Gothimgothimgothimgothergothim~~ One hand wrapped around Xander's tanned upper arm to the point of being almost painful, Spike tugged and pulled at the pliant figure until Xander was facing him. With his free hand, Spike turned the boy's face upwards, forcing Xander to look at him even as his gaze slid away from Spike until he was looking at the floor again. In swift, precise motions, Spike found himself running his hands over Xander's body. He had to make sure that Xander wasn't hurt, had to check that nothing had happened to him in the few minutes they had been separated since the latest threat had revealed itself. As his hands descended to the lower part of Xander's warm body, Spike's growling quietened unconsciously as Xander thrust his pelvis forward the instant that Spike's hands made contact with his crotch. ~~Gotta keep him safe..gothimgothimgothergothergothim..gotta keep him safe~~ MMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMEEEEEEP... Lifting his head for an instant, Spike looked at the bright smile that was decorating Xander's face even as his hand rested lightly on the warmth of Xander's crotch. A few sniffs of the boy and Spike resumed his growling as his game face sprang to the forefront of his normally human features, his scenting of Xander revealing nothing but fear no matter how much Xander was smiling. ~~Safe..must keep him safe..she's gotta be safe..no-one else..me..only me..I gotta keep him safe~~ Without a word to Xander, Spike tightened his hold on Xander's upper arm and whipped his hand away from the boy's nether regions even as he started to break into a run and yanked Xander along with him, pulling the boy off his feet with the ferocity of the action. As Xander tripped and fell, the agitated vampire only growled louder and continued to pull on his upper arm. As a result, he ended up dragging Xander along the floor; Spike being unwilling to stop for the brief few seconds it would take Xander to pick himself up off the floor. ~~Must hurry up...gotta get the boy safe..must hurry...gotta get her safe...only me...only me..I gotta get him safe..no-one else..only me..me..me..me..me~~ MMMMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMEEEEEP... Xander was dragged into the middle of his room and shoved into a sprawl upon the carpet, Spike running his fingers through the dark hair a few times, twisting the unruly ends gently as his growling eased a little. Cocking his head to the one side, Spike listened to Xander's heart beating rapidly even as he noticed that the bright smile was still firmly in place. For the first time since the alarm had gone off Spike spoke, his speech intermittently broken with involuntary snarls and growls. "S'alright Pet. No one's getting to you." ~~Gotta keep him safe..gotta keep him safe...gotta keep her safe..gotta keep him safe~~ There was not a chance in hell that anyone was going to get through him to hurt Xander. Not a chance. Leaving Xander's side, Spike paced up and down the length of the room, snarling and growling with almost every step. There was only one thing on his mind. He had to protect Xander at any cost. ~~Gotta keep him safe..no-one else..just me..always me..always..gotta keep her safe..no-one's gonna hurt him..gotta protect him~~ MMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMEEEEEP... He paced the room, dividing his time between watching the open doorway and Xander. Spike's driving need to protect Xander at all costs wasn't allowing reason to enter his head. Not once had it registered that Xander hadn't moved a muscle from the awkward position he'd been shoved into, not so much as an inch to make himself comfortable. As long as Xander was with him, then Xander would be safe. What had happened last time had been an accident. He had been distracted by what had been going on outside of the Magic Box training room but this time, Spike was once again going to do all he could to protect Xander. He had to. Spike was ready. If something was going to come for Xander, then it might as bloody well step on up to the plate. He was ready and raring to go and not once did he wonder why each time he thought of Xander, an image of Dru was blending into Xander's, essentially making them one complete image. Nor did he stop to wonder about his train of thought. ~~Nuthin' and no-one gets the boy..gotta protect him..keep her safe..protect him~~ March 8, 2005 Hyperion Hotel 7.36 pm MMMMMMMEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEEP.. "Jesus Wes, shut this thing off already," muttered Angel, his head aching from the constant sounding of the alarm. With his gaze focused firmly on Lindsey, Angel made a snap decision. There was no way he was going to spend one more minute in the room with Lindsey and an increasingly nervous W'nth. Getting up from his perch upon one of the two hard metal tables that decorated the training room, Angel closed the distance between himself and the annoyed lawyer with only a few strides. Gesturing at W'nth, he told the other demon to check all the rooms in the hotel and make sure that everyone was in the library downstairs. At W'nth's nod, Angel relieved the demon of the shotgun and waved him towards the door. "What are you gonna do Angel? Finish me off? Kill me? Blow my head off? You got what you wanted now, go on, just get it over and done with," sneered Lindsey. His earlier concern about using a bathroom was all but gone as he tried to figure out what it was that was making the vampire before him so worried. Silently, Angel stood in front of Lindsey, both eyeing him intently and trying to ignore the annoying alarm. Should he just kill the lawyer now or should he wait and see if he could get any more information out of him. He had everything that he essentially needed. Once Wesley had gone downstairs, Angel had taken one of the lawyer's hands and had twisted Lindsey's little finger until the man had screamed in agony as the digit had been finally broken. Between breathy gasps of pain, Lindsey had given Angel all the phone numbers he had asked for including his private email address, bank account numbers and all the relevant passwords. Even though Lindsey was still under the truth spells influence, Angel had taken the liberty to break another two fingers. Just because he could. MMMMMMMEEEEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEEEEP... W'nth had been the one to stop Angel from going any further, telling Angel not to rub himself along the same patch of grass as Lindsey. After a few confused moments, Angel had realised that the other demon was telling him not to lower himself to the Lindsey's level. Angel hadn't been able to stop himself from suddenly leaping at Lindsey, game face fully display and snarling for all that he was worth. The brief flash of pure terror that Lindsey had displayed had been worth the struggle to keep his blood lust under control. A struggle that Angel was afraid of losing if he stayed anywhere near Lindsey for much longer; already he could feel himself almost ready to give in to his desire to let Angelus out to work on Lindsey for a few minutes. "Go on Angel, break a few more. Come on, I've still got seven left you know? Start on my toes why don't you?" said Lindsey snidely, unsure of what was going to happen next. With heart beating a rapid tattoo and his abused fingers radiating a pain that he was feeling up the shoulder, Lindsey waited for Angel to do something other than just stand and stare at him. "Five. You've *five* fingers left. Two thumbs, eight fingers. I once made a simple finger breaking last for four hours. So slow. So very slow. Watch what you wish for Lindsey, you may just end up getting it," replied a grim faced Angel, closing the space between them rapidly. Putting the shotgun down, Angel allowed himself a small smile when Lindsey gulped in what was obviously relief. Content to just smile at the other man, Angel let Lindsey's questions and remarks wash over him for a moment, allowing Lindsey to kid himself that Angel wasn't going to kill him in the too near future. MMMMMMMEEEEEEEP... MMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMEEEEEP... In an action that was almost too swift to see, Lindsey caught a glimpse of the clenched fist flying towards him, aimed directly at his face. The force of the impact when it connected with his un-blackened eye was beyond describing, all Lindsey knew was that he *hurt*. Badly. Otherwise silent, Lindsey found he was trying to gulp enough air into his lungs to scream while his newly injured eye instantly started to swell. His head ringing from both the alarm and the pain exploding from his eye, Lindsey missed seeing Angel's fist shooting towards him again. He felt it though, only a second after it made contact with his nose, shattering his favourite feature and reducing it to a rapidly purpling misshapen mess. Growling in delight, Angel watched as both blood and displaced tissue ran from Lindsey's destroyed nose, staining the man's expensive shirt. His growling gave way to a short bark of derision as Lindsey finally let go of both his bowels and bladder. Content for the moment to look on as Lindsey choked and spluttered in agony, Angel drew his fist back one more time and after a brief consideration of where to punch him next, Angel put everything he could into the action. Just as he drew a great shuddering breath, Lindsey felt a pain like no other he had ever experienced before, a heavy solid fist almost forcing his windpipe through the back of his neck. His chair rocking backwards from the force of the blow, Lindsey didn't even notice as he finally ended up on his back on the floor, so intent was he on trying to force the air trapped in his lungs outwards. MMMMMMMEEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEEEP... With a calm, serious look upon his face, Angel looked on as one of his most hated enemies lay writhing and gasping in what were his last few moments in the living world. Angel's expression gave way to a slight weary smile when Lindsey, in a massive jerk of his body, managed to snap one of the chair legs from the seat base, the chair leg still being tied to Lindsey's leg. Ever so slowly, Lindsey stopped jerking and twitching as his brain starved from lack of oxygen. Finally, he lay still, his eyes black and swollen shut, his mouth hanging open in the middle of a last desperate attempt to draw enough breath to survive. Eyeing off the lawyer for a moment more, Angel slowly circled the pathetic figure before looking down at his hands. His smile slid into a grimace as he sourly noted that he had still given Lindsey a merciful death compared to the one that Spike had been wanting to give him for so long. While he had been recovering from his earlier horrendous injuries, Spike had passed the time by making lists of just how he wanted Lindsey, Randall and Tomas and anyone else connected with them, to die. Even though Spike had hidden them away from everyone, Angel had still managed to sneak a look at a few, worried at first that his Childe was planning some sort of trouble for the world weary friends. Ultimately, Angel had been a little relieved that Spike had been occupied in relatively harmless exercise; after all, his youngest Childe was harmless to humans. Giving his head a hard shake in an effort to relieve the discomfort from the constant alarm, Angel wondered just how much abuse he was going to cop from everyone once he told them that Lindsey was no longer a threat to them. As he ventured to imagine the huffy little hissy fit that Wesley would throw once Angel had told him, let alone what both Cordelia and Joyce would say about the rapidly staining carpet and vile odour in the training room, he growled as the alarm rode roughshod right over his one remaining nerve. In a swift about turn, Angel left Lindsey's side and with out a glance backwards, strode towards the solid door. Just as he reached out to punch in the security code so that he could open the door, the door was opened by someone from the outside. MMMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEEEEP... Last of the security code punched into the keypad beside the solid door, Graham realised that his gums were throbbing in time to the increasingly annoying alarm that continued to echo through the Hyperion. The alarm, however, was currently the least of his concerns. His normally expressionless face displaying a rare frown, he glanced to his left side, looking down at the far end of the corridor. As the security pad displayed the all clear, Graham started to push the door open even as he tore his gaze from Riley trying to get past a rabid Spike and to help a downed W'nth, just outside Xander's room. With a violent shove, Angel pushed past Graham and stared down towards Xander's room as a vicious growling reached his ears. Groaning to himself, as to just what else could possibly go wrong, Angel cursed quietly as he wryly thought that he had probably just wished more bad luck upon both himself and his friends. Ignoring Graham's questions about Lindsey for the moment, Angel strode swiftly down the hallway. The first thing that had captured his attention was Spike. His youngest Childe was in full throes of the Twilight Instructions, growling and snarling at Riley for all he was worth, even as he paced up and down the width of the corridor just in front of Xander's doorway. Riley was trying to both placate Spike and edge closer to a stricken W'nth. Robin's former owner was lying a few feet in front of a game faced Spike, on his side, facing Riley and with both eyes closed. Thankfully, it looked like all his limbs were still attached, so far. Whether W'nth was unconscious or not, Angel was unable to determine at this distance. From what he could see, Spike more than likely had Xander holed up in his bedroom and had probably attacked W'nth after identifying the other demon as a possible threat to Xander's safety, the alarm ringing through the hotel was what had probably triggered the Twilight Instructions into full force. Poor W'nth wouldn't have stood a chance against an enraged Spike, the demon was as passive as a demon could possibly be and probably hadn't even known what had hit him. MMMMMMMEEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEEEEP... Shaking his head in both frustration and annoyance, Angel watched as Spike took a step closer to W'nth, matching Riley's own movements. Each time that Riley made a little progress forward, towards W'nth, Spike did the same thing and each time he did, the growling got a pitch higher. As Angel struggled to keep his human visage, he told Riley to get back and leave it to him. "Angel, do something?" "W'nth alright?" "Far as I can tell. No blood or anything," replied Riley as he slowly backed up, his gaze focused firmly upon the agitated vampire even as he walked backwards until he felt a hand between his shoulder blades indicating that he should stop. His nose wrinkling at a foul odour that was drifting his way, Riley tried to ignore it as he told Angel about the latest events. MMMMMMMEEEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEEEP... "Only got back here a few minutes ago, heard this fucking alarm the moment we stepped through the doors so we headed up to the library. Wes told us to come straight up and get you to handle Spike. Guess W'nth tried to handle him first huh?" "No, it's my fault. I told W'nth to make sure that everyone was in the library. How does Wes know about Spike? He went down well before W'nth left," enquired Angel as kept his eye on his pacing Childe. As soon as Riley had backed off from W'nth, Spike hadn't moved back but he also hadn't gone nearer to the downed demon. Hopefully, Spike wasn't going to start trying to rip apart W'nth in the near future. Then again, this was Spike and that meant anything was possible. With that thought in mind, Angel slowly made his way down the red carpet, towards Spike and W'nth. Gesturing discreetly to Riley and Graham, he indicated that the two men should follow him but stay well behind. "Spike sort of pushed Wesley down the stairs on his way up here," answered Graham, walking next to Riley, a few yards behind Angel. "What... But the chip. It is... right?" "Yeah, yeah. Still working apparently. Wes said that Spike clutched at his head, was in pain," Riley muttered as he felt a twinge of guilt at being a once hearty advocate of the chipping of all demons. Now however, he wasn't too sure how he felt about it, just that in the light of recent events, he was determined to find some way to help Spike defend himself against humans. How though was the million-dollar question. MMMMMMMEEEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEEEP... "Why the hell didn't he buzz me and tell me? Fuck! Lindsey, that's why. Jesus, I didn't even hear a thing, even when W'nth opened the door to leave. Too busy with that prick." "Well, he's something that we don't have to worry about now, right?" stated Graham calmly as he gave a thumbs down gesture in answer to Riley's questioning look, frowning when Riley shook his head and glared at Angel's back. "Christ, I really hope so. Okay, just stay here and let me handle things. All I'm going to do is get W'nth, make sure Xander is ok and then leave them to it. Spike's just doing the right thing and we are not going to start challenging him on that. Okay?" asked Angel, taking a step forward towards a still snapping and snarling Spike. Walking slowly, Angel tried to establish eye contact with his irritated Childe in an effort to display dominance. The alarm ruled out any attempt of making the usual sub vocal soothing noises that Sires sometimes used with upset Childer. As he concentrated upon Spike's face, Angel stopped a few yards away from the downed W'nth and felt a surge of pride as he watched Spike's tightly wound body release some of its tension as they both made eye contact. "Childe." "Grrrrr...snarl..Sssiiirre..mmrrggg" MMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMEEEEEP... With his chest beginning to ache from the strain of his heart beating in the rapid tempo of pure panic, Xander sat on the stiff carpet and waited. Waited for his next abuser to find his room. Someone was coming for him again. They had to be. That could be the only reason for Spike to drag him into a room and then proceed to attempt to defend him. W'nth was probably doing the same thing with Robin right at that very moment, the Moorlyndat demon trying to ensure that Robin wasn't going to be taken again without a fight. Spike would do his best, Xander knew that and he appreciated it but there was only so much that Spike would be able to do against humans. Spike may not love him anymore but Xander was very glad that Spike at least liked him enough to offer up some resistance on his behalf. Xander wouldn't be able to put up a fuss when his new owners came for him, not that he didn't want to, it just wouldn't be right. Maybe Angel and the others would be able to help Spike again. After all, they helped last time. MMMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMEEEEEP... His breathing coming in short sharp gasps, Xander rocked himself back and forth in an unconscious attempt to calm himself down before he broke one of the rules and started crying. He wasn't allowed to cry, they didn't like it. Crying made his face splotchy and a splotchy whore was an unattractive whore and one that would find himself being 'talked' to by his current owners if he wasn't careful. Xander prided himself on being careful. Back and forth, back and forth, Xander rocked all the while acknowledging the fact that he was pretty relieved that he was being taken so soon again. It was a small mercy that he hadn't started to settle back down into a regular life again. This time, he knew that it was going to be easier to adjust to the career that Fate had chosen for him. Maybe he was going to get a nice Master this time. Maybe he would even get a Mistress like Aiden and Ashley had been sold to. Maybe he should just go out into the hallway and get it over and done with. MMMMMMMMEEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMMEEEEP... With a shuddering breath, he continued to bring up reasons of why it wasn't going to be so bad this time. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to it. Not every demon was out to hurt him, in fact, some he would have liked to call friend if it hadn't been for the barrier between their different social standings. Thinking that he would have hit the jackpot if he was taken by a demon like W'nth, Xander grinned a little only for it to turn into a gut wrenching dry retch as his mind flashed a brief glimpse of some of his most hated clients. Clients that had involved him in sessions that he still had trouble believing had actually physically and sexually taken place, the acts themselves being so far fetched he sometimes thought that they were just a product of an overly intense dream. It wasn't going to be like that this time. Maybe he would be sold to a demon that actually knew how to take care of a human, unlike his previous deceased owner. Someone who wouldn't have to bring one of its friends around to translate on Xander's behalf when the Master is puzzled as to why Xander has been sick for three days straight when only given a diet of raw potatoes and bananas. Then again, his previous Master had only followed Randall's translated instruction, plenty of fruit and vegetables each day. It wasn't going to be like that this time, not all demons were that ignorant. MMMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMEEEEEEP... MMMMMMMEEEEP... Xander gulped down a sudden sob as the snarling and growling outside of his room got louder, Spike's warning almost overriding the continuing alarm. His latest kidnappers were only down the hallway it seemed. Xander hoped that Spike didn't get too hurt this time if he attacked one of the owners and he hoped that it wouldn't reflect badly upon himself if it did manage to happen. In a swift movement, Xander ground the heels of his palms into his eyes as he tried to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. It was all right; it wasn't going to be so bad this time. He was going to be fine. Xander was going to be in pain, he was going to be frightened at times but he was going to be fine. He knew that he would be all right just because he was Hellmouth born and bred and that fact made him valuable. The fact that he was also experienced made him an all the more sought after possession. Randall had often told him so and even Adam had screamed it at him on more than one occasion, stating that he should count himself lucky that he was Hellmouth bred otherwise he would have been starring in a snuff flick after only a few months of being picked up in Sunnydale. With the realisation that the inevitable was about to happen, Xander shakily rose to his feet, managing to suppress the sobs that were threatening to emerge. He was going to get taken. There was no doubt about it, even with Spike doing his best to keep the new owners at bay, Xander could just make out a few other voices over the continual snarling of the bleached vampire and the sounding alarm. Shoulders slumping in complete acceptance of his lot in life, Xander pulled his long sleeved top straight before bending down to re-tie an errant shoelace. With swift steps, he walked to the bathroom to check that he was looking presentable. Hands washed and hair quickly brushed, Xander smiled at the reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror, his training holding fast as he unknowingly avoided looking into his reflection's eyes. He looked good. He looked better than just good, he looked attractive and Xander knew that he was beautiful. With a last look at his hands, Xander's bright smile slipped for a mere second as he took in the sight of his ragged cuticles. Maybe his new owner would let him have the occasional manicure session or at least provide him with accessories so that he could keep himself presentable? MMMMEEEEP... MMMMMMMMMEEEEEP... MMMMMMMMMEEEP... As he walked towards the bedroom door and Spike, Xander took a long look around the room before berating himself for being so stupid. He wasn't going to be looked for again and Xander had probably only been found by accident. It was no use in trying to remember a room that he would never see again. People that he would never see again, Angel and the others wouldn't come for him again, Xander was just too much of a waste of time if he was going to keep getting taken. At least Xander wouldn't have to worry about how uncomfortable he had felt since returning to the Hyperion, he could forget about how Spike had broken his promise and of how much everyone had changed since the last time he had seen them. He could forget about how much it hurt to think of Spike lying to him and how stupid he felt to have lost his heart to someone who only cared for himself, someone who as far as Xander was concerned, played with people's lives emotionally only because he couldn't do it physically anymore. He was going to be fine and this was for the best, he wasn't going to need any retraining, only being back in general society for a few days so his new owners would more than likely be happy about that. Stopping just before he stepped out into the hallway, Xander took a few deep breathes in order to relax himself enough so that he would appear more pleasing to the eyes of his new owners. First appearances always made for the best ones and it was time to get it over and done with. If he went now, then no-one would get hurt trying to defend him and he won't have to listen to Spike lie when he's told that Spike is going to come looking for him again. "M-m-my name i-is S-s-s-scott." He whispered to himself and with that, Scott stepped out into the hallway. |
