Homecoming Day 3

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Homecoming Day 3: Truth, Lies And All That Jazz by Victoria Hayrabedian

Xander peered into the window of a bakery, tongue practically hanging out at the sight of the eclairs hidden within. "All that chocolatey goodness...." He murmured, palms pressed against the glass. His entire body seemed poised to leap through the window and devour all chocolate found within reach.

Angel sighed and looked at Willow pointedly. She shrugged then walked over to where Xander was blatantly salivating and tapped him on the shoulder. "Alexander Harris, spank your inner moppet. We're here to find vamps, not chocolatey things."

"But--" Xander gestured wildly towards the shadowed cakes, "*eclairs!*"

"And they'll still be there when we call for room service in the morning. Now, come on," Willow said, firmly grabbing his arm and dragging him away. Angel stalked ahead of them.

Xander cast a glance at the determined witch at his side and smiled inwardly. {{Oh no, innocent little Willow isn't concerned about the naughty vamp getting staked; oh no, not her...}} "You know what, Wills?" He flung an arm around her shoulder casually, his face a picture of innocence. "You're absolutely right. Save the world - and Spike's neutered ass - tonight, indulge in naughty treats on Angel's credit card tomorrow. Good plan." The hand slipped down to fit snugly at her waist. Shivering in the crisp evening air, Willow cuddled closer to him. "I mean," he continued, smiling fondly down at the red head pillowed against his shoulder, "I think we owe him. I, for one, would certainly not have found him quite so amusing if I had known that he'd just - up and leave this way!"

"Uhuh," Willow said in a noncommittal tone of voice.

"Don't you think?" Xander pressed. {{I'm gonna get a reaction out of her if it kills me..... or not,}} he amended quickly. He shivered at a particularly strong gust of wind. {{Why on Earth would Spike want to *come back* to a place like this?}} The streets seemed to actually have cobblestones set in them, caked over by a thick layer of mud. {{They probably have horse-drawn carriages still here, too....}}

Angel ducked down a side alley and the pair behind him followed. The street sign had long since been caked in mud and grime; yet the bright red letters ensured that Xander could just about make out, if he strained, the ornate script proclaiming, "Ferry Street".

"So? Don't you think?" Xander took his arm away to nudge Willow sharply.

"What am I not thinking, Xander?" Willow asked, her tone tired. She looked up at him and Xander was suddenly struck by how exhausted she looked. They couldn't have had more than six hours of sleep for their two nights spent in London. Besides which, they were running on West Coast time, still.

All of a sudden Xander had to fight the instinct to yawn. "Um.... never mind." He moved to catch up with Angel, who was warily scouting the streets ahead. As far as Xander could see, they were faced with one long stretch of murky river on the one side, and one long stretch of murky alley on the other. {{Big choice.... swim or wade?}} "So, found anything interesting yet?"

Angel turned to raise an eyebrow at him. "If you mean, have I found Spike yet, then, no. If, on the other hand, you are wondering why we are here if Spike isn't here...." he sighed deeply. "Then I have to say that, apart from making our presence known to the local vampire populace - and any of Spike's sources - I have *no* idea."

Xander joined him in staring solemnly at the murky waters spread out like a blanket below them. Various pieces of garbage - Xander could make out several Diet Coke cans, a punctured football and what looked suspiciously like a used condom with a white tail flowing out behind it - serenely floated their way down river. "Do you people actually drink from this place?"

Angel snuck him a quick look. "No. It's filtered by Thames Water, I think. Why? D'you drink from the Sunnydale sewers?"

"But this place isn't a sewer, Angel." Willow caught up with them and joined them in their contemplation of the flickering lights that marked the far side of the Thames. Angel stood perfectly still by her side, his coat fluttering behind in the breeze, while Xander leaned on the iron barrier keeping him ten meters from the river edge. The sun was a rosy crimson in the distance, the tips of its last rays kissing the grey clouds goodnight. Willow played with her gold charm bracelet and kicked gravel through the iron barrier. "And why are we here?"

"He doesn't know," Xander informed her, keeping a wary eye on a nearby pigeon that seemed perversely interested in his shoes. "And even if it's not a sewer, they don't drink from it."

"*Even* if it isn't? *We* don't drink from our sewers..... or has there been some changes in our local government - I mean besides the Mayor turning into a giant snake-demon and eating half the school body - that someone should have told me about?" Willow's brows drew together in concentration.

"Funny you should mention that, Will. Because the brooding king of angst here forgot the angst long enough to tell me that, amazingly enough, English people don't drink water from sewers. Which, knowing the nationalistic tendencies of some people of the we've elected into office, would worry me enough to check if we're not doing the opposite just to be contrary." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Angel propped his elbows on the iron bar and buried his head in his hands. "I can't believe I thought *Cordelia* didn't make any sense...."

"Xander Harris," Willow began in her 'schoolmarm' voice again, "I can't believe you would say something so prejudiced and disgusting!"

Xander shrugged. "Hey, after growing up with slime demons, vampires and zombies, I think I'm allowed a little leeway on what to define as grotesque or 'oogy'-worthy."

"Sewer waste is *not* oogy-worthy," Willow said, pouting. "Slime-demons, now *they're* oogy-worthy."

"Ah, but I'm sure that deep down inside they have a heart of gold.... or slime. Or gold-coloured slime. Or something akin to that topic which, seeing as it's leading nowhere, I am dropping right now." He folded his arms resolutely and turned to watch the afterglow of the sunset fade from the horizon.

Willow nodded. "Well, good."

Angel moaned inaudibly. "I'm going to have to apologise to *Cordelia*....."

Willow threw an arm around his shoulder awkwardly. "Aw, well, if it helps, you can blame it on Xander's sewage."

"Hey," Xander started to protest, "it's not *my* se--"

A whistling sound cut him off. Angel suddenly shuddered and fell forwards against the rail, Willow's arm still around his shoulder. The witch turned to look at him with concern, her expression changing to one of pure horror as her gaze travelled down to rest on the ugly stake sticking out of the centre of his back.

"Oh!" She reached out a hand hesitantly to touch the splintered wood, then pulled away hastily. Her eyes impossibly wide, she looked at Xander with amazement.

For his part, Xander was far too busy thinking three very important things to be concerned about the stake sticking out of Angel's back. One, that Angel's index finger was still encircled by a thin band of silver and a gaudy bauble that would keep him alive indefinitely. Two, that whoever had flung the stake obviously didn't know about said gaudy bauble, and that could work to their advantage. And three, {{I'm very much mortal and, unlike Angel, very susceptible to thrown sharp pieces of wood. Who threw that?!}}

As if in answer, Angel reached laboriously behind to yank out the stake, and, almost before he turned around, to throw it back to its dispatcher.

One small be-jeaned vampire was soon swept away by the Thames wind. Two others continued to stare at Angel, their mouths open in perfect symmetry.

"Let me guess," Angel asked as he pulled two more stakes from his coat pocket and offered one to Willow, "you've never seen an undead legend before?"

*****

"So," Angel asked, hefting the stake in what Xander supposed to be the ideal throwing posture for a mini-javelin, "are you going to do this the hard way, or the even harder way?"

"You're not dust," one of the vampires - a scrawny bleached-blonde with ripped jeans and a skinny T-shirt - said, blissfully unaware of stating the obvious.

Xander rolled his eyes. "No *duh*." He fingered the stake tucked into his back trouser pocket - safely hidden underneath his coat - before reluctantly yanking it out. {{I'm a lover, not a fighter....}}

Willow continued to stare at the vampires with a faintly horror-struck expression on her face. Angel cast her a quick glance before waving his stake threateningly. "Why are you here?" {{And, more importantly, do you have the information I need? The Master's childe roam all over, but these don't smell strong or old enough to know anything of value...}}

Two mouths shut with an audible 'click'. Two hands suddenly produced knives from coat pockets, moving faster than the eye can see. "*We* ask the friggin' questions, you get me, you stupid prick?" The bleached kid said, her mouth twisting around the insult. She sounded too young to be able to even pronounce it.

"Fine," Angel said with a quick shrug. "No difference to me. We can do the introductions before the slaying."

"Slayin'? Whassis slayin' you's goin' on 'bout?" This was the second vamp speaking up - a redhead that was just as scrawny and with just as big a mouth for his even bigger words.

"T-that's right!" Suddenly sensing an advantage, Xander felt the need to press it forward. "We're friends of the Vampire Slayer! You know, Chosen One, will fight evil and demons and vampires and other oogy things without breaking a nail?" He sniffed disdainfully in the vamp's general direction. "And who are you? Apart from the 'before' subjects in deodorant adverts?"

"Vampire Slayer? She's not here is she?" The redhead tugged on his companion's coat. "C'mon Maggie; we gotta tell the Master if she's here..."

"She ain't," the blonde tossed him off. She turned to the trio again. "Vampire Slayer?" she snickered. She glared at Angel, her facial ridges growing more pronounced in her loathing. "Sounds more like Vampire *Layer*, to me..." She spat.

This seemed to bring Willow back into the by-play. She strode forwards, inadvertently blocking Angel's aim. "Don't talk about Buffy that way!"

"Willow, could you just..." Angel tried to wave her to one side in vain.

"*Buffy*?!" The vamps stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "That's the bitch's name? *Buffy*?! No wonder she's shaggin' demons! It's a wonder she ain't shaggin' everythin' else an' all!" This seemed to amuse them no end. They looked at each other, the threat the elder vampire posed forgotten. The blonde one primped her hair in a caricature of an American Beauty Queen. "Hello. My name's *Beffe*!" They burst into laughter again.

Willow turned to ask Angel what was so funny, almost managing to impale herself on his extended stake in the process. Looking up at him, she was startled to see laughter lines creasing into his face even more deeply than his customary brooding expression. "Angel? What's wrong? What's funny about Buffy?"

That did it.

In front of the two vamps, still cackling with laughter, Angel - {{has lost it,}} Xander thought in awe. The vampire was cracking up, laughter almost choking him. His aim wavered to the point where he was almost dropping the stake. And Xander *still* couldn't see what was so funny.

Apparently, neither could Willow. She impaled Angel with what was quite possibly the deadliest weapon known to man.

{{Oh. My. God.}} Xander thought, horrified. {{She's using - The Look.}} A part of him almost felt sorry for the poor vampire....

'The Look' was a variant on Willow's 'resolve face', and was very rarely used by her. {{I thought she had too much honour to resort to The Look....}} It was a cross between The Pout and The Tapping Of A Long Fingernail Against A Tabletop.

In short, it was murder.

Willow pinioned Angel with the strongest version of The Look in her arsenal. "What," she said slowly, sounding as if she was speaking to a reticent child, "was *so* funny?"

Taking a step backwards from the onslaught that was The Look, Angel cleared his throat hastily, stilled his face as much as possible, and said, "I'll tell you later."

If the blonde vampire had not chosen that particular moment to throw her knife at them randomly and bolt, Xander was sure that Angel would have been polluting the Thames seconds later. As it was, the vampire turned tail and ran, her knife hitting the ground harmlessly. Willow followed swiftly, stake in hand. She caught the blonde with a clean throw through the back, and the vamp dissipated into ashes in front of their eyes.

The second vamp - the little boy that looked so much like a male version of Willow, with his bright green eyes and vibrant red hair - took that opportunity to make a run for it as well. Angel knocked the knife out of his hand and had him pinned up against the wall before Xander could react. Willow turned to face the redhead, stake raised. Xander blinked and suddenly saw her as a blonde, stake raised as if in a pose for a magazine, vamps turning to dust all around her. {{Clean thoughts, Xander my man,}} he thought desperately, trying to clear his mind. {{Willow isn't pulling a psycho Buffy on us....}}

Then he had to think that again, very very loudly, as Willow strode over to where Angel had stuck his elbow underneath the little redhead's chin and pulled him up clear off the ground. {{Lucky the kid doesn't need to breathe,}} Xander thought, unconsciously inching closer to the pair as if he was a bystander expecting blood. {{Otherwise, we'd have to look for another little messenger.}}

"Can I dust him now, Angelus?" Willow said, a strange inflection in her voice. Angel and the redheaded vamp both stared at her, their mouths hanging open.

Xander blinked. {{*Angelus*? She sounds like Kendra.... or Drusilla....}} he shivered. {{Mind games? What's Willow playing at?}}

For whatever reason she's said things that way, the strange threat worked. The vamp raised himself to all of his diminutive five foot three and managed to spit in front of Willow. She looked at the blood-red spittle on the ground then suddenly looked beyond the boy, past the wall and out into the Thames again. Her expression softened indecipherably, and she was Willow once again. "Angel - just, find everything out, okay?" She hugged herself as if she was suddenly cold and went to join Xander a few feet away.

Angel nodded. "Have you seen Spike?" He asked, sounding bored.

Green eyes blinked at him. "Why?"

Angel smiled a wolf's smile, letting the vamp down onto the ground. He pulled a large stake out of his coat pocket and snapped the point off. Then, using it as a small club, slowly, methodically, he used the stake to turn the young vamp's entire body blue and green. Willow looked away. Xander's eyes got larger and larger until they were practically filling his entire face. {{Angel.... or *Angelus* doing that?}} He wondered. {{And what if it doesn't matter?}} The thought scared him more than he thought it would, and he put an arm around Willow to comfort himself.

The young vampire tried to run, of course, but it was no use. Angel was by far the stronger. Once he'd done enough damage, he once again picked up the vampire child and held him up against the wall by an iron arm across his throat. "Let's try this again. Have you seen my childe?"

"No...." it was hardly above a whisper.

Angel sighed. "You know, I don't understand you young fledglings. Here I am, someone obviously 200 years older, asking you a simple question, and all you had to do was answer it. All I needed was a simple yes or no. But no, you had to do things the hard way. Now, let me ask you my second question. I hope that you will be more co-operative. Has anyone you know seen Spike, anywhere other than at Home House?"

The fledgling wetted his chapped lips. "I - dunno, I guess. I never went to ask 'em if they 'ad. They'd tell the Master anyway, not me."

Angel smiled at this. "Ah, yes. That was my third question. Well, really my third question and my first favour. You see, the Master may know where Spike is. I know that he's probably planning something big - but, then, something big is always being planned, isn't it? Everyone wants to destroy the world nowadays. As Cordelia would say, that's *beyond* passé in my book. I don't care. They'll be stopped eventually; I'm not concerning myself with that."

"But, I *do* want you to tell him something for me." His eyes narrowed until the pupils were pinpricks, burning with calculated anger. "Tell the Master," he said slowly, lingering over the words as if the taste pleased him. "Tell him that Angelus is back to claim his childe. Tell him also that if I find Spike harmed in any way because of this plan of his...." he trailed off, gaze resting unsettlingly on the jump of his prey's Adam's apple. "Then, there will soon be a new Master in town."

The vamp summoned all his strength and courage and laughed in Angel's face. "You stupid prick!" He hissed, glaring at him scornfully. "You think that *you* - not even 300 years old - can take on th' Master - an' win?" He shook his head; a motion curtailed by Angel's elbow, which had been propped against his chin. "The Master is o'er 2000 years old! He's older than Christ, for fuck's sake, and you think that *you* can challenge 'im?"

Angel smiled slowly, shifting to game-face. The silent echo of Angelus' howls lit his eyes and honeyed his voice. "Oh, but I won't be challenging him," he said tenderly, long sharp nails raking over his prey's preternatural skin with false care. "I'll just..... kill him."

The vampire stared at him, hypnotised by the fury he saw howling in the dark eyes. "We won't follow you," he whispered desperately, trying to assuage the wrath of the demon he saw boiling to the surface.

Angelus released him with a small kiss to the forehead - the soft brush of icy lips in a kiss one might give a favoured child. His gaze was even; his eyes steady. Angelus stared at the young fledgling in a manner that was almost paternal. His voice, when he spoke, was inexplicably saddened with its air of finality. "Then you'll die."

The vampire fled.

Angelus watched him go, sighing softly. Then another pair of green eyes gazed up into his - Willow. She stood between him and red brick wall, shivering in her thin blouse, hair mussed by the wind. A small white hand was laid on his sleeve hesitantly and Angelus looked at it in surprise; it had been years since anyone had dared to touch him with such intimacy without his consent. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly his vocal cords froze in his throat; another - Angel - was speaking in his place. "Willow?"

"I-I-I don't know why you told him why we were here..." She stumbled to a halt, her face suddenly tense in the effort to try and work out his motivation. What *was* his motivation? Angelus could barely hear her. Angel listened politely, bearing Xander's slightly feral look with aplomb. "I-I know that you must have a good reason to do that, but I don't know what it is, and that's slightly not good for my peace of mind." She blinked suddenly. "Are you still - you know - *good*?"

Angelus started to laugh as a door swung closed and left him in darkness. Angel managed to look simultaneously despairing and peeved. "Why does everyone keep asking that?! Yes, I'm good!"

Xander raised and eyebrow and snickered, but refrained from comment.

"Oh -- o-okay. As long as we know..." She waited expectantly. Silently, Xander moved to stand at her side, backing her up.

"I -- well, we need to find Spike. And the easiest thing would be if someone else found him for us...." {{Now that you put it in words, it really doesn't half sound silly...}} Angel thought. He tried to recapture his train of thought. "It would be best if we could convince the Master to help us. Even if he decides not to, he'll keep out of our way if we stay out of his. And Spike's bound to have sources amongst his minions --" He spread his hands helplessly. "If he knows where we are, he'll know where to go to for help or shelter."

Willow nodded. Xander scowled. {{Right. And this has nooooothing to do with that major grudge against the local Master you're wearing on your sleeve. Not a thing....}} He took a look at Willow's placid expression and started in shock. {{Oh God, Willow, please don't tell me you're swallowing that story. Oblivious much?!}} He thrust his hands in his pockets and stared at Angel resentfully. "So now what? We've announced our arrival, chatted to the natives -- and charmingly bloodthirsty hooligans they are too -- in fact, we've stopped just short of taking out an ad in "The Times"... now what?"

"Now, we wait." And Angel seemed content to do just that. Willow seemed likely to join him.

{{Oh yeah, real concerned. I almost feel sorry for the Bleached Wonder...}} "Well, you two go right ahead and -- do that. I'm going to Home House." He span away angrily, almost colliding with the wall. Face flushed, he tried to storm past Willow.

She grabbed his arm. "Xander, you're being silly! You can't do anything at Home House! Why go there?"

Xander growled and pulled his arm away. "Because Liz is there. And seeing as she's the only other person apart from me who's actually willing to lift a finger to stop Peroxide Boy from turning into an asthma sufferer's nightmare, I feel that we share a certain kinship. And she can help me do something other than just sit here and wait for one of the Master's goons to bring us a Spike pot pourri."

He snorted disdainfully at Willow's shocked expression. "Yeah, like that never crossed your mind. What kind of stupid risk was that to take, Deadboy?" He glared at Angel resentfully. "You're leaving it up to the Master's 'tender mercies' - and I know by now, vamps can't be trusted!"

He turned to glare at Willow again. "And you know what? Him --" he tossed his head in Angel's direction, "I can understand. Hell, he turned on Buffy enough times - even when he was supposed to be 'good'! Not that surprising he'd give up on his own kid that easily." He ignored Angel's pained intake of breath and plunged on. "But you.... I seriously thought that you cared about him, Will." He laughed harshly.

"You know, I almost feel sorry for Deadboy Junior... while his sire and the 'sympathetic' girl next door stand idly by, the only people really willing to do something to find him are the roommate he doesn't get along with and some vamp chick he hasn't seen in centuries. " He shook his head again and this time he did turn away, walking away so fast that the shocked pair almost didn't catch his last words. "I almost feel sorry for him.... I thought you cared about him, Will... damn it, I think he thought so too..... what a fucking mess...."

Willow's hands clenched into fists at her sides at the feeling of Angel's arm around her shoulders, drawing her into an awkward hug. She glared at Xander's retreating back with something more than anger. "I care!" She whispered defiantly. "Goddess help me, Xander, and damn *you* for saying that! I care!"

Angel looked down at the mass of red hair spilling on his shoulder and a burning sensation coursed through him swiftly at her words. It was gone before he could identify the feeling; but although he tried to dismiss it as simple anger, he could not deny the singular thought that ran rampant through his mind: {{Stay away! He's *mine*!}}

{{I need a drink,}} Angel thought desperately.

*****

"Don't be too obvious about 't," Liz said, taking a sip from her brandy. "I don't want coppers knocking down *my* door, you hear?"

"I understand," the softly-spoken man sitting opposite her said. "Anything in particular that I should look for? Sabotage?" His reddish nose puckered as he pushed his glasses up into his face again.

Liz smiled and regarded him frankly. No, he would never do for any job apart from this. Her companion's charcoal grey suit still had the suspiciously fresh aroma of recent dry-cleaning, and his starched white shirt gleamed dully underneath his waistcoat. So quintessentially the British gentleman, and yet so obviously a man out of time - his blue eyes curiously placid amidst the luxuriously decadent surroundings, not appearing to be the least bit put off by the Victorian decor and mannerisms displayed by many of his fellow patrons.

If you knew what to look for - the air of belonging where there should only have been curiousness and perhaps just a touch of serendipity, the casual arrogance in knowing where you stand in relation to the universe, even his too-perfect skin, looking like it had been bleached of all colouring - yes, if you knew what to look for, you'd drive a stake into his breast immediately.

If you didn't know what to look for, you'd most likely call him 'Sir', or 'Lord Such and Such'. Elegance never fades, no matter how many centuries passed. Reclining against the lavishly upholstered couch, her companion still looked as if he had been born in the lap of luxury.

Which, of course, he had been. "Naw," Liz waved a hand dismissively. "Don't do nuthin' to 'em. Just listen and watch. I don't wanna meddle 'afore I have the full picture." She took another sip of her brandy and made a face. "Urgh. What's in this stuff anyway? Tastes like piss." She pulled a cigarette out of her coat pocket and lit up.

"And the 64 thousand dollar question is - how would you know that?" Xander flopped himself down uninvited in between Liz and the strange man. {{Ah, the lap of luxury at last. I could get used to this....}} He lounged back, resting his elbows on the mahogany bar that ran alongside the broad back of the couch and smiling broadly.

He ignored the man sitting opposite Liz after a quick look. {{Okay, not even *Giles* would be caught dead in those clothes, and there is no way skin can be that smooth..... I'd say the argument for a case of vampyrism is pretty strong at this point.}} This, in itself, should have worried him, if not sent him screaming outside again. However, {{Liz is here. Having drinks with him. Obviously on good terms with him. Liz isn't supposed to eat me. And no one is supposed to snack on anyone here anyway....}}

His safety - at least for the moment - assured in his mind, Xander grinned at Liz again, giving her his best impression of a psychopathic clown. {{Hehehe..... she's wearing a short skirt..... um, down, boy. No mistaking the vamp for a hottie....}} His fingers found a tiny rip in the back of the upholstery and were busy prying the strings loose from the tight weave. {{This room is freaking me out in *such* a major way.... }} He realised it was the curtains that were the main culprits. {{Evil curtains. Repressors of sunlight and other flammable products.}}

Liz stared at him, a wry eyebrow on the rise. {{Either this one has no concept of personal safety, or he is a very stupid child indeed,}} she thought, amused. "You'd be surprised what the Middle Ages had to offer," she commented instead, smirking at his instantly disgusted expression.

"Ooookay, I think that *definitely* falls way beyond the realm of sharing, the place of confidence and is way into the land of *far* too much information." He pulled a face. "I mean, ewwww!"

The quiet, dignified man sitting next to Xander looked at him with calculated amusement, saying nothing. His eyes raked over every inch of the teenager's body, seeming to drink in the sight of him. He turned to raise an eyebrow at Liz, who smiled back.

"Keep off him, Jeremy. This one's with Angelus. And," she leant forwards, blowing smoke as she grinned wolfishly, "I wouldn't wanna be in your shoes if summink went an' 'appened to 'im!" She waved her cigarette in the direction of the doors. "Now, I suggest you run along 'afore someone starts to wonder where you went."

"I agree," the vampire - Jeremy - finally said, getting up gracefully and giving Liz a perfunctory bow. Xander he graced with an even more amused look. "Liz. Sir." He went out.

Xander stared at the man wide-eyed. "Wow," he said after a long moment of silence. "I thought that *no one* could be more - well, *British* - than Giles. Guess I was wrong... that guy sounded like he was out of one of those period dramas or something!" He eyed Liz's abandoned brandy glass cautiously. "You gonna finish that?" He asked, glancing about to make sure no one was watching him.

She laughed and proffered it to him. "Go ahead, hon'. Yer 19, ain't ya? Yer can drink at 18, over 'ere." She had to laugh again at Xander's comically wide-eyed expression. "A'tho I suggest you don't get pissed off yer 'ead first few times ya have a drink. Not a nice experience to wake up head down in th' gutter." She took another drag from her cigarette, savouring it, then quickly stubbed it out on the nearby ashtray. Propping her feet on the table, she leaned back in her chair, regarding Xander with undisguised amusement.

Xander had to swallow very quickly indeed as the vamp propped her feet up on the table, her short skirt giving him an unparalleled view of her underwear - or lack there of. {{Oh - dear....}} Was all his brain could come up with before he forced himself to look away.

Liz grinned at the deep blush staining Xander's cheeks. {{Ah, th' brat's lucky I snacked 'afore tonight,}} she thought hungrily, watching his Adam's apple jump nervously. {{Ah, well.}} Time for business. "So," she steepled her hands in front of her, forming a small triangle, her hair falling forwards to frame her face. "Two things, luv. One, I suggest you forget you saw Jeremy here if you want to make it to the grand old age of twenty." She let her mouth open slightly, her long eye teeth pushing against her lips.

Xander's mouth went dry suddenly and he nodded. {{Great thinking there, Xander my man,}} he thought blankly. {{Way to mistake the evil undead bloodsucker for a hot babe you can count on....}}

Liz hid her teeth at his acquiescence. "Good. Second - I tole ya to stay away from me unless I called ya. Why are ya risking yer pretty little neck buggin' me 'ere - especially when I'm on business?"

"Business?" Xander glanced anxiously around the largely empty room. "What *kind* of business?"

The vamp smiled slowly. "Never you mind." She flicked chipped varnish off her long nails absently, staring at Xander with amusement and curiosity in her eyes. {{Brave little thing, isn't he.... God, he smells good....}} Her teeth pushed against her bottom lip as she resolutely shut her mind to the craving. {{Had me supper already. No snacking on the wards...}}

Xander seemed unaware of the torture he was putting Liz through. "Well, the reason I'm here is, well," he stuttered, sounding like a fool and wondering where on earth he left his brain. {{Right next to my common sense,}} he thought suddenly, watching her pupils dilate as she ran her eyes appreciatively over his wrists. {{Mental note - wear body stocking. Or, even better, body *armour*.....}} He tried to get the words out as quickly as possible. Luckily, there weren't that many. "I want to find Spike and the others are useless."

Liz laughed. "Well, *that* was news.... not." She gestured to the obsequious maitre d' for another brandy, despite her dislike of it. "Angelus - sorry," she held up a hand to forestall his correction, "*Angel* is Mr Zen, now, I see. And that little chit seems all fire and - something else," she trailed off thoughtfully. "She wants ta do *summink*, but ain't sure what." She raised an eyebrow. "Wanna fill me in on the deal?"

"With Willow?" {{See, it's not just me!}} He crowed inwardly. {{Willow and Spike, sitting in a tree....}} "Well, she's kinda.... well, I'd say that she sorta has a crush on the Wonder Boy, there." His face split into a wide grin at Liz's knowing look. "Yeah, I take it you got that too..."

"She's as subtle as a PM-wannabe on election day....." Liz said, oblivious to Xander's clueless look. Her brandy arrived and she took another sip from it; grimaced. "Shit, I'm a sucker for punishment.... this stuff *is* worse than piss." She pushed the drink towards Xander. "You want it?" He took it gratefully and she smiled again. {{Yeah, brave little brat..... still a kid, though. Must lay off the stronger stuff; don't want him dropping off on me.... last thing I want is ta have ta nursemaid 'im!}} "But I weren't talkin' 'bout the chit, luv. I can see *'er* clear as day -" well, she amended with a quick grin, "not literally, you understand." She toyed with a strand of her hair, concentrating on looking as innocuous as possible. "I was wonderin' 'bout you."

It didn't work. "*Me*?" Xander swallowed fast and choked as the liqueur hit his stomach. "Urgh - um, what about me?"

Liz looked at him pointedly. He sat barely two feet away from her, lounging on the couch, his coat - and the stake in the pocket - thrown carelessly over the side of a nearby chair, well out of reach in emergencies. Xander's hair was messy - well messier than usual - from the London evening winds, and his clothes were not exactly the smartest around. To complete the picture, dark circles under his eyes marked his lack of transition into London time.

"Kid, yer a mess. Why?"

Xander squirmed under her steady gaze, suddenly very much conscious of several very bold assumptions that perhaps he should have waited until Liz was neutered to make. "Um, what do you mean? I told you, I want to find Spike. The urgency of getting to him before he's decorating a modern art exhibit kinda put the whole grooming experience on the back seat for a little while..." {{What's she anyway, my mother?!}}

Liz nodded, and Xander did a double take. "Yeah, it took a back seat..... and that's exactly my point. Yer concerned about the brat. And so are the other two, in their own little ways. Angel I can understand, sorta - he freaks me out, but I can understand him. You, on th' other hand...." She shrugged fluidly. "I want t' know why yer so concerned for the brat's hide." Suddenly a thought struck and she raised a perfectly tweezed eyebrow. "You two - you, together?"

"Depends in what sense you mean," Xander said uneasily, mindful of cultural misunderstandings. "We live together, but, we're not - like that."

"Casual? Didn't think you vanilla kids had it in yer...." Liz said, winking provocatively. She knew that she was misunderstanding deliberately, but wanted to see the kid's reaction. {{Ah, never met anyone more gullible in my life.... I got a bridge I need ta sell 'im....}}

"Um...." Xander desperately tried to think of a way in which to put this that would not insult the other vampire. "Well, we're not - I mean, *I'm* not a poof. I have *no* idea about Spike - no, I do, although I'd much rather *not* know. It goes beyond the realm of knowing thy roommate, and is *way* into the land of *too much information*."

He took a quick sip from his brandy and grimaced. Liz was right; it *did* taste like piss. Or at least what he imagined piss would taste like. Or something like that.... {{Oookay, Xander my man, two things. Lay off the alcohol if you want to be walking, rather than crawling, home, and two - set the lady straight before she has you and the Wonder Boy married...}} "I'm not gay. I'm *not* sleeping with Spike, and have never harboured - and nor will I ever harbour - a desire for such an experience."

He took a larger sip, almost turning it into a gulp. {{I can't believe I'm sitting in an exclusive London vamp club talking with a hot vamp about the possibility of my sleeping with another vamp,}} Xander thought. {{And was it just me, or were there *faaar* too many vamps in that sentence for my liking?}}

He set his glass down hard on the table. "Okay? Final words. Spike's had it tough, I see. Well, my heart bleeds. Or not. Whatever. But he pisses Angel off, no end - and that's enough for me to want him to stick around as much as possible." He glared at Liz challengingly. "Any more questions?"

{{Brandy's talkin' at last,}} Liz thought, amused. {{Americans. Turn up, have a drink, babble everything away. Long live a nice spiked drink.....}} She smiled inwardly at her phrasing. Outwardly, she kept her face expressionless. "About you? Not at the mo, thanks. About the little witch...." She leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees in the most cleavage-enhancing position known to woman. "C'mon. Spill. What've you got planned?"

Xander shrugged, his eyes glued to curve of her breasts above her low-cut top. {{Oh God..... switch brain on now! Switch brain on now! Do *not* leer at ancient vampire's breasts!}} He tried to focus on her face. "Well.... um, I thought to try and bring them together. Spike seems to know her well, and, well, Willow isn't very prejudiced against creatures of the dark and suchlike..." {{And anything that will piss Deadboy off is good in *my* book!}} "And anything that will piss Deadboy off is good in my book!"

Liz laughed out loud and Xander blinked. {{Did I say that out loud?}} He thought. "Did I say that out loud?" He repeated. {{Mental note - leave hormones behind on next trip. Pack brain instead.}}

Liz laughed again; an incongruous child's giggle coming from her bubble-gum pink mouth. Her teeth gleamed pearl white. "I suggest you don't have no more brandy, or I'll be carrying ya home." Her smiled widened, dimples appearing. "And I snack on the way."

{{Further mental note. Kill Willow for volunteering me to come along to this slaughterhouse.}}

Liz smiled at him gleefully, as if she could read his mind. {{Okay..... the brat's scared stiff. He's also got a hell of a hard on. Interesting....}} She licked her lips inviting and had to bite back another giggle as Xander swallowed nervously and crossed his legs. {{Damnit, what *is* it with Angelus and those wounded children? All big eyes and innocence peerin' out at ya like that.... break yer heart if you so much as look at 'em.}} Her hand drifted down to play with the ankle strap of her heeled shoes. {{Look at 'at..... scared like the divvins but still turned on.... vanilla kiddies these days sure 'ave changed somewhat.}}

Xander was desperately trying to fix his eyes on Liz's hands, rather than her cleavage, as his own hands clenched involuntarily as he tried to assert some measure of control over his hormones. Liz could almost pity him if her own eyes weren't still fixed on the inviting redness on the inside of Xander's wrist, resting dangerously near his lap. {{Aw, there, there, don't fret luv, I'll take care o' 'at for ya.....}} She thought before she realised where her train of thought was leading. {{Okay, Liz, get a grip. No snacking on the wards, no fucking the wards, and no pissing dear Angel off. Ya don't wanna row, remember? Get a fucking grip. Need to diet, anyway.}}

She sat back again, partially freeing Xander from the hold her cleavage had on him. Instead, his attention was transferred back to her legs, with her strappy heels and dimpled knees. {{I'm drooling over a vamp,}} he thought dully. {{Now I know how Buffy feels...}}

Liz tapped a finger on the table to get Xander's attention. "You still with me, luv? Okay, good. I like yer plan, lacking though in actual planning as it may be. I know you'll figure something out - you or the Slayer." She still couldn't bring herself to say the name. "I want Spike ta be happy where he is - in *Sunnydale*," she said slowly, emphasising each word with a tap on the table. "I want him to be *very* happy. I want him to *stay* in Sunnydale, and not even *think* about coming back here - or going to LA. - until he has that fucking implant out."

{{Don't make me scare ya, pet. Yer real pretty, and I likes pretty things, God knows I 'aven't seen that many recently cooped up in this bloody hellhole over the sodding New Year.}} She chewed on her lower lip, watching him thoughtfully. {{Look a' 'at.... eyes as big as saucers. Aw, why do they keep sendin' me babies? Even makes feedin' a pain when they look at yer like yer their momma turnin' psycho.}}

Xander's eyes were indeed as wide as they could possibly get, partly out of fear, and partly out of the effect of the brandy. Liz sighed. {{C'mon ducks, don't make 'is hard fer me... I don't wanna talk about it.... just get the hell outta London and take Angelus' childe wiv ya.... no place fer 'im 'ere no more.}} Okay. Get the message across as quickly and as plainly as possible. No use being nice to the kid while she was about it; he'd only misread. Be blunt. She made Xander meet her eyes and darkened them to a glowing gold to make her point. "I want Spike outta London, along wiv the rest o' ya, as soon as blimmin' possible. You clear?"

"As crystal," Xander stuttered. "We get Spike out of here, and then I try and give him a happy to keep him out of trouble. Fair enough." He took a deep breath and thought {{this is me being stupid}} while his mouth plunged on. "Now. Why do you care?"

Liz pinioned him with a look so icy it could have put a tundra to shame. {{Brave kid; stupid, annoying and drunk as hell,}} she thought. {{Angelus has *no* respect from these brats...}} She stared at Xander, measuring him with her eyes. Perhaps she had misjudged him; on second evaluation, he didn't seem as innocent as he first appeared. He seemed to observe a great deal, if not understand it all at once. Perhaps there was a lack of lightning intuition, for lack of a better term, working behind his brown eyes, but the knowledge for it was there. He knew Spike. And he knew Angelus.

{{Strike me down with a flippin' feather,}} Liz thought, genuinely surprised. {{The kid 'ates this as much as me...}} But did he really understand all that was going on? Or was he just winging his way through this, hoping to stumble onto an answer?

No matter. "Angelus," she said slowly, "was a fucking nut case. A wanker of royal calibre. In case you didn't glean this from his 'I'm so tortured' confession, he made Spike's unlife a hell for many a year before he finally disappeared."

She stared past Xander, watching the street outside from the large window at the far corner of the room. The heavy drapes were pulled back and tied off with sections of rope to create the 'framed' effect normal curtains simply couldn't imitate. "I didn't like that. I dunno what you people do about family nowadays - what wiv all those kids divorcing their parents and all 'at - but vamps 'ave have some rules 'ere. An' one of them is, ya don't turn on family."

She paused, waiting for the inevitable argument. Xander didn't disappoint her. "But - Spike tried to kill Angel, just like Deadboy tried to kill him! And what about all those vamps Spike sacrificed when he was fighting with us? Some of them were bound to be his childe, and it didn't bother him at all!"

{{Oh, yeah, let's discuss the birds and fuckin' bees....}} "They weren't childer - they were minions. An' although it may sound th' same, it ain't. It's like..." She frowned, trying to put the complex interrelationships into words. "It's like the difference between offspring an' children. One o' them you care for, raise and protect. The other you just spawn to guarantee survival of yer species."

She looked at Xander wearily, trying to judge if she had given too much away. Doubtless this was all in the Vampire Codex that Angel - curse him - had given back to the Slayer and her Watcher. Still, she doubted those kids had fully thought through all the implications.

Xander's brow was creased with the effort of making all the pieces click. He had certain instincts that he tended to go with, and his instincts were telling him to ditch Angel as fast as he possibly could and look for Spike on his own - or possibly with Willow's help. But, despite his own innate dislike of 'Deadboy', he wasn't entirely sure why having Angel along would be a problem, except....

"Oh." Realisation hit, draining Xander's face of all colour. He blinked at Liz dazedly. "Angel said that Angelus had turned Spike to stop him from winning. But, if he raised him, that means that he - what? Abused him? Like..." His expression turned to one of pure disgust. "Oh God, that's *sick*! That's *so* twisted! Spike's his *son*, the *sick* fuck!" The curses felt strangely hollow on his tongue. He stared at Liz accusingly, as if he blamed her for his newly acquired knowledge. "That's it, isn't it? That's why you hate Angelus so much?" He'd expected his voice to have risen to a shout; instead, it had dropped to barely a whisper.

"Angel, that's why I hate *Angel* so much," Liz corrected morosely. {{I do *not* believe I'm 'aving this fucking conversation.... the Master's gonna 'ave my hide if he finds out...}} She sighed at Xander's once again puzzled look. "I don't wanna talk about Angel and Spike's past relationship wiv ya - that's up to them ta work out. But... well, *this*," she waved a hand at him randomly, "is another matter entirely. What horseshit has Angel been feedin' ya? That the demon is completely different from the person?"

Xander nodded, watching her small girlish mouth pout inadvertantly as she sighed. "Well, yeah, he said that after Willow - I mean, an alternate Willow - turned out to be a vamp. But the Vampire Codex says that too, at least, that's what Giles says.... "

Liz sighed again, torn between setting things straight and throwing the Slayer off the trail again. {{Then again... 's not like they can use the knowledge against us. All they can do is protect Spike from Angel.}} She contemplated the ceiling for a long moment. "Have any of your classmates been turned?" She asked.

"Well, yes, like Harmony, or..."

"Harmony, right," Liz interrupted. "I 'eard about that little bitch.... she was with Spike fer a while, wasn't she? Anyway, never mind 'at. Have you seen her since?"

"Yeah - well, sorta. I mean, she attacked Willow, but then there was that time she was crying in the tunnels and..."

"Whatever," Liz interrupted again. "Did she seem much changed as a vampire?" {{C'mon kid, clock onto this!}}

Xander thought about this. And thought about this. And thought some more. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to decide. He wasn't used to making value judgements; that role usually fell to either Buffy, Willow or Giles, each of who were likely to argue a different side. He normally didn't get involved in any discussions like these.

"Um, well apart from her snacking on her former non-friends - which Willow, I'm sure, can put down to 'cultural differences'.... no, not really," he decided at last. At Liz's pointed silence, he tried to put two and two together - and got a whole different picture. "Oh! Then why are Angel and Angelus so different?"

"They're not," Liz said shortly, with the resolute air of one who will say no more on the matter. She steeped her hands in front of her.

Xander opened his mouth to ask a further question, then snapped it shut hurriedly. {{Then why is Angel here if he and Angelus.... Oh,}} he thought again. {{Oh.}}

Liz tried to move the subject along. "So, now you know why I don't like the angel-face. What about you? I take it ya didn't much like 'im even 'afore this mess?" {{Let's get past all the new revelations about dear Angelus.... even if 'e doesn't believe me, he's gonna learn soon enough. See him in action around the brat, and he'll get it right and get the fuck away from him. But if he isn't freaking about that - what's got him spitting fire like 'at?}} She feigned innocence, then slow realisation. "Oh, yeah. He got together with Slayer..... and you wanted her." {{C'mon ducks, I know you're not sure why yer freaked out. Try and work it through when yer sleepless, okay? Get it through yer thick fucking skull afore I break it....}}

Xander blushed. "Well - mostly, yes. I *was* angry at him for dating Buffy. But I *never* liked....." He paused, eyebrow rising at the suspicious twitching of Liz's mouth. "What's the funny?"

"Nuthin'," Liz said quickly, trying to keep a straight face. {{Fucking hell, what a name! 'Hello, my name is *Beffe*!'}} She bit her lip to try and keep it from turning up, to no avail.

{{Oh, come on, vamps cracking up is an experience and a half, and now three of them in one day? First those at the Thames, now Liz. What *is* it about this place?}} Something clicked. Xander's eyes narrowed as he remembered the past conversation. "The other vamps - back at the Thames - were laughing too. What's so funny about Buffy?"

Liz brought a fist up to her face, pressing it against her lips with crushing strength. "Nothing," she said, sounding as though she was choking. "I'm sure it's.... very..... *nice*......" she gasped, losing her battle and dissolving into giggles. Her hair flopped forwards to hide her face, her fringe falling into her eyes as she clutched her sides, trying to stifle the un-vampire-like giggles.

Xander tried not to focus on her bared teeth again, instead fixing his gaze on her bare midriff. Carved ivory made up her stomach, ivory blanketed in silk and cashmere. His gaze travelled up to where two small but perfectly-formed breasts were heaving with girlish laughter. {{I want to go home now,}} he thought suddenly, desperately. {{I really, *really* want to go back to Sunnydale. I don't want to have to think about all this stuff next time I see Deadboy, and I don't want to feel sorry for the Bleached Wonder, and I do not want to be sitting down with Spike's *godmother*, drinking brandy and discussing family history and watching her laugh like she wasn't a killer but an innocent schoolgirl...}}

Liz eventually brought herself under control. {{I can explain this.... I've had four years to accept the name and stop laughing.... I can explain to the brat what it means...}} "Xander," she began, leaning forwards seductively.

Xander blinked at her use of his name. {{I want to go home!}} He wailed. "Yes?"

"I take it you don't know the, um, slang term for the Slayer in Holland? *Or* what her name means to us European types?" Her main accomplishment today, she thought, was not outrunning two persistent police cars or negotiating a successful business deal. She was managing to keep a straight face. {{I deserve the Oscar..... mental note: make sure I get an Oscar this year. Produce art flick. Finance art flick. Or something. I feel creative....}} She dragged her wandering mind back to the task at hand. Xander was shaking his head no. Okay....

"Well, I'm afraid that Buffy, the Vampire Slayer has the rather unfortunate Dutch nickname of Beffe, the Vampire Layer." She waited.

Xander didn't disappoint her. "So, I get the Layer bit..... what does beffe mean?"

Liz motioned a hand to him and pulled his head even closer until she could see the blood vessels pulsate beneath his skin. {{Behave, girl,}} she thought. She whispered something in Xander's ear.

He pulled away instantly, eyes going impossibly wide. "You're - you're lying!"

"Cross my heart," Liz said, refraining from actually carrying out the rather harmful gesture. Xander appeared not to notice.

"But.... but.... oral s-s- intimacy of the oral kind is..... well, it's..... it's...." He seemed lost for words. The various shocks of the evening, combined with the two glasses of brandy, flushed his cheeks a pleasing crimson. His eyes were very wide and slightly glazed as he tried to absorb even more information into his brain for careful perusal at a later date.

Liz fought back her amusement at his befuddled expression. "Come on, luv. Don't tell me you don't know what cunnilingus is...."

"Of course I know!" Xander squeaked, his voice an octave higher. "I just wasn't aware the term coincided with my best friend's name!" His tried to find some composure amidst the alcohol-induced warmth flooding his body, while a small - albeit very noisy - part of him longed to be able to excuse himself, go find a nice quiet solitary spot somewhere, and have hysterics until his head exploded. {{I am *never* going to be able to look at the Buffster again without laughing out loud.}}

"Think about the trouble *I* have, every time I've had to face her. Effort and a half not to simply laugh in her face and let myself be staked." A sharp male voice cut through the smoky murmur of the drawing room.

Xander spun around, his jaw dropping in recognition and surprise.

Liz didn't look up from her drink. "Hello Spike. Took ya long enough to get here. Have a seat. I won't offer you a refreshment in the form of a Xander-shaped snack; I see you've eaten already."

*****

The lanky black-clad form dropped himself on the couch next to Xander who, instantly sensing something different, shuffled hurriedly across. Spike, his features fairly glowing with health, leaned forwards until he was staring Liz in the eye, completely ignoring the panicked looks Xander was throwing at him. "I ain't gonna eat ya, luv. I'm well-fed already." He patted his stomach and grinned slyly. {{And... let's all watch the whelp turn white with fear,}} Spike thought evilly. {{Fuck, I missed this...}}

Xander was indeed turning an even paler shade of white. "F-fed? B-but - you can't bite - you can't - or - I thought you couldn't - but if you can - that would be bad..." {{And..... even worse, we don't seem to have packed our Slayer with us...}} He threw the double doors a nervous glance. They seemed to be way too far off.

Spike rolled his eyes and sat back further into the chair. "Oh, give over. I ain't about to eat ya." {{I might want to badly, but...}} "I do have *some* standards, ya know." {{Although right now I'm willing to shish kebab you in Leicester bloody Square, as long as I get me a meal tomorrow...}} "And yer right, I still can't bite. I got someone to get get me a snack, instead." His lips pulled back, showing teeth. {{C'mon, whelp, show a little spirit...}}

Liz looked at him appreciatively. {{Well, I gotta say *one* thing fer 'im... the brat sure knows how to get complete terror from former friends.}} She suppressed a smile. "So, why are yer here luv?" She asked without any preliminaries. "I thought yer didn't want th' kiddies ta be chasing after you..."

{{Yeah, Will honey,}} she thought, her eyebrow rising with interest at his temporarily nonplussed expression. {{You run away.... and then you stick around to keep the kiddies interested.... not 'xactly the kinda thing you wanna do if ya want 'em to leave ya alone...}} Her smile widened. {{More like - ya want ta keep 'em danglin' - and followin' ya....}}

Spike recovered enough aplomb to snort good-naturedly and gave Xander a look that did nothing to diminish the human's nervousness. {{She knows me too well.... that might be - a problem,}} he decided. Xander seemed as clueless as usual - or maybe not so clueless. Spike gave him a more careful look. The whelp was oblivious to most of the stuff that went on around him, but that simply meant that it gave him a lot more chances to pick up even more information - from all sides. {{How do you think o' me now, Xander?}} Spike thought, eyes flickering to the sudden jump in the tanned Adam's apple. {{As a victim that your Slayer 'as to protect?}}

The thought made him want to growl, but he bit back on the feeling. {{Can't rip 'is throat out.... this is getting too bloody pitiful,}} he decided. {{I coulda done this a year ago - fuck it, I tried! Now.... simply 'cause he got me snacks and didn't tie me up all the time, I suddenly grow a heart for the bloody git...}} The thought made him smile. {{Ah, this could be the best of all the games...}} he thought, deciding to focus on that, ignoring the little voice at the back of his head that screamed for attention. {{Yes, this could be amusing...}}

"Yeah, well, I didn't fancy havin' you talkin' to Xander, 'ere, like I was some kinda babe in arms...." Spike said at last. His scarred eyebrow crooked invitingly, waiting for a comment. {{Not like I 'ave a lot of choice.... 'specially about the game part,}} the little voice treacherously insisted. Spike wrung it's tongue out and stabbed the lying length with a kitchen fork.

Xander grabbed the couch to steady himself and the rest of the universe, staring at the play of emotions rippling over Spike's face with unashamed fear in his eyes. The blond vamp looked a *lot* better than when he had seen him last - and that had been barely one night ago. Obviously, he'd fed since then. His skin was firmer, taut but not tight, especially around his eyes - eyes that seemed to shine again. They had been dulled from hunger and exhaustion; now, they were as blue as ever.

One corner of the supple mouth was quirked in a knowing smile.

Xander swallowed. {{Think happy thoughts.... think no vamps in the world, think Liz being here to protect you, think Spike being fed but not being able to bite, think Buffy naked, think....}} As always, when his brain was occupied with something else, the natural humour reflexes kicked in. "So, uh - Spike. You're looking a lot better. Decided not to go for the walking skeleton look, huh?"

Spike turned to look at him as if only noticing him for the first time. Liz sat back in her chair, drawing her legs up under her and making herself comfortable. This looked to be interesting. The kid had picked up the several very *wrong* things happening with Spike - and Spike wasn't ripping his tongue and eyes out for that knowledge. {{Either the brat's learning - which ain't necessarily a *good* thing! - or he's at the end of his tether, and grasping at straws....}} The string of clichés made her smile inwardly. {{I'm starting to sound like a bloody book.... oh! What do we 'ave 'ere, then...?}}

Spike's mouth was slowly twisting in a malicious grin as he looked Xander over, very, very carefully. "Xander," he said, his voice a purr.

Liz licked her lips at the sound. {{Oh yeah.... 'e's definitely learnin'.... a new spin on the 'love thy killer' stuff 'e was messin' about wiv, mebbe? Not just get them ta want 'im, but get them ta - like 'im?}} She blinked. The thought was a foreign one to her. Would Spike really retreat into mind games *that* complicated? That sounded more like Angelus' forte....

Xander shivered. {{Oh God oh God oh God don't even *look* at me, please make him look somewhere else and not look at me like I was food...}} The worrying part was, the meal part may have been more literal than Xander was interested in finding out.

"But still, you know, you should keep your strength up because, well, if you get hungry, that would be bad for people, and, um, I can't offer you my arm - even though Liz kindly did it for me - but I'm sure we could find you a steak -" Spike growled and Xander blinked rapidly. "No, not a stake, a *steak*, uh, you know, the non-wooden kind... you know, extra rare?" His mouth was running away mindlessly and his brain had no hope of catching up. {{God, Spike, I've seen you *sleep*, man, I *know* you don't look like that when you're asleep! We're - we're buds.... right?}} Somehow, he couldn't seem to convince his brain of it.

There was a long pause at this, Spike's smile slowly getting wider. "Well," he husked, leaning forward, "how about I make *you* the steak? That way, I could 'ave an Angel salad...." He licked his lips. "That's all the bloody poof's good for."

At the mention of Angel, some of Xander's fear evaporated. {{I got something on him!}} A part of him crowed. {{Bleach Boy can't strut around like that and he can't kill me because I got something on him...}} The small part of his brain that dealt with morals and decency was quickly knocked over the head with a large piece of wood and shut away in the nearest cupboard.

"Yes, how *is* dear Deadboy, anyway?" He managed to ask with an air of casualness. "Liz tells me that you two had a sort of Norman Bates thing - only without the shower - going there....."

Spike's teeth seemed to elongate by themselves in the yellow light. "Liz talks bullshit. She'd have me written down as a fuckin' Oliver Twist, if she thought she could get away with it..." {{You stupid fuckin' *bitch*,}} he grated mentally. {{You just *had* to open yer big mouth and spill the lot, didn't ya? Now I'm gonna 'ave to kill the whelp, or at least rip out 'is tongue or summink ta keep 'im quiet....}} For some reason, that bothered him. The fact that a small part of him would have preferred that it didn't need to come to that bothered him even more. Where was William the Bloody?

He growled.

Liz rolled her eyes and lit up another cigarette, throwing her empty packed of Silk Cut down on the table contemptuously with a flick of her wrist. "Hey, ducks, ya know I'm still 'ere, right? No badmouthin' yer friends while they're still around...."

{{Awww, lookit 'at.... looks like a daddy protecting th' cub 'afore the kill,}} she thought hungrily, very much amused at the confusion evident on Spike's face. {{You don't wanna kill the little baby, do ya? And it's drivin' ya up the wall...}} It didn't really bother her that much, she decided. Personally, she didn't always enjoy killing; it depended on who it was, really. Spike - William - on the other hand, had always enjoyed it far too much. {{Over-compensatin' fer Angelus?}} she wondered idly. {{Ya can't kill 'im, an' so ya work it out on yer breakfast? But now that the worst o' Angelus is back, why ain't ya itchin' ta rip the whelp's throat out?}}

There was a slow tapping in the room, gradually increasing in speed and volume, Xander realised. A second later and his brain registered it as Spike's heeled boot tapping impatiently on the panelled floor. {{Oh, vamp fight!}} He thought, before realising, {{but both vamps are supposed to be on our side... drat. And I wanted to watch some major slayage! Would have made me feel *so* much more at home....}}

Instead, Spike seemed content to tap his foot and glare at his erstwhile 'old friend'. "Liz," he said slowly, sounding as if he was fighting not to spit the words out. "Do me a *fuckin'* favour. Don't shove yer pretty nose in my business." He raised an eyebrow. His scarred one. It caught the light and left him looking like he was fresh from a fight, his face flushed with adrenaline. "I'll tolerate this once, and once only. But I hear you've been blabbin' again, I'll rip yer fuckin' tongue out."

Xander swallowed - yet again. Liz looked unconcerned, taking a long drag from her cigarette and blowing acrid smoke into Spike's face. "You can try, luv. But I seriously doubt tha' you'll get anywhere. " She took a look at her cigarette, not even halfway smoked, still lodged firmly between her fore and middle fingers. Her brow creased into one solitary line as she brought her other hand up and closed thumb and forefinger over the smoking tip, crushing the fire out.

She flicked the dead cigarette onto the table.

Spike refused to look down at it.

Xander was battling to breathe amongst all the testosterone - and oestrogen {{or whatever it is Liz is making!}} - clouding the air. The two vamps were still as statues, glaring at each other but not moving. {{Okay, I gotta do something, or something *very* bad will happen; and then something even worse will happen - a very pissed off Buffy will kick my butt!}} The image of another butt-kicking from the Slayer foremost in his mind, he tried to get the vamps' attention.

"Uh, guys?"

Two sets of glowing yellow eyes - the only parts of them that had changed - snapped to look at him hotly. Xander licked dry lips and plunged on. "Uh, hi, yeah. Um, I don't mean to be indelicate, but, um, well, the only reason Liz told me all those things was to help us find you, and, well, seeing as we've found you..." His mind went blank as to what he was supposed to do next. Read Spike his Miranda rights and then hit him over the head with something?

Icy blue replaced animalistic gold. Spike smirked at him, deliberately leaning over to invade Xander's personal space. His right hand resting on the back of the couch, he placed a fisted hand next to Xander's hip, effectively blocking him into a small corner on the couch. Bracing himself on his left hand, he slid his right hand until it was dangerously near Xander's shoulder, plucking at the boy's shirt. "Um, and just *why* were you all looking for me, pet? Miss me?" Thin lips curled in a cruel smile.

"Unlikely," Xander laughed before he could stop himself. "Um, I mean, um...." {{Plan B, plan B! Launch the 'girl' attack!}} "Uh, Willow missed you, sure." He tried to look conspiratorial. "Um, I think she has a thing for hard-luck cases. You know, like wolfboy. Either that, or she has issues I *really* don't want to deal with..."

That did it. Spike laughed.

{{Oh, Lord, why did I spend so much time wiv them? I ain't no Angelus... I can't talk with my food 'afore I 'ave me supper....}} It was true. Somehow, over the course of this conversation, an innocuous comment from Xander had crossed the line from frightened prattlings of a soon to be meal - to the even more frightened prattlings of a permanent annoyance. {{When did I start to think of 'im as 'permanent'?}} Spike thought idly. He wondered why the thought didn't upset him as much as he thought it would have. {{Guess I got used to the whole lot o' them back in Sunny - bloody - hell.... seems like they're a part of the woodwork...}}

Then, suddenly, {{damn, I miss Dru...}} That was what was the matter, wasn't it? They reminded him of Dru. All of them. That helplessly dependant look.... his prey looked at him with simple fear - fear from the monster in the dark. Xander was also looking at him with fear - but it was of a different kind. He was scared, not *of* him, but *for* him. {{The whelp wants to make sure I'm okay,}} Spike thought, surprised and warmed by the notion.

And the rest...? {{They came out here for me... and they're still here. God knows what the poof has told them about me - they're still here.... Well,}} he amended quickly, {{at least Xander is.}}

But wasn't Xander supposed to be the least of them? Uncaring and annoying? Didn't the others care more than him? {{Why aren't they here, then?}} Willow was. He'd heard Willow, just before he'd taken off after the roughed up vamp. {{"I care..."?}} And does Xander care?

What was it about these two kids that reminded him so much of Dru, anyway?

Xander smiled at Spike's carefully neutral expression. {{He's not sure what to think.}} This, for Xander was a step in the right direction. Before, Spike had known *exactly* what to think - kill the Slayer and hang up her friends by their thumbs. The fact that he was wavering even slightly in that conviction was one hell of a step in the right direction.

{{Plus, it makes him seem *so* much nicer.... whoa. Nicer? Less psychopathic, sure, but, come on, we aren't best buds.... we don't even like each other.}} The person he seemed even likely to tolerate, in fact, was Willow. {{Does he like *her*?}} Strange thought. Before, he'd been *so* sure. Now?

It was the laugh, wasn't it. The laugh had thrown him off. It was rich, throaty, fuller and more relaxed than Xander had heard before - except, of course, when Spike had been threatening to kill Buffy, or Willow, or him. But since he'd had to hang out with the Scooby Gang, he just hadn't been his usual psychopathic self.

Liz snapped her fingers. Both guys looked at her, startled. Spike's smile died on his lips.

"Um, ducks, I don't wanna interrupt what is a *very* sweet moment an' all - and I'm sure the people over there were simply *lovin'* the view," she waved a hand at where some girls were unashamedly staring at the two guys practically entwined on the couch, "but, c'mon, was there a purpose to this visit, luv? Apart from threatening me - which, don't get me wrong, I love and all that crap, but, ya know, I figured you had summink more urgent...."

Spike smiled slowly again and sat back, his hand dragging over Xander's stomach on the way back. Xander shivered and pulled away to sit as far away from the vampire as he could possibly get. It was like being raked with an ice-pick, that one solitary touch against his shirt. The coldness seeped through the thin material so quickly the shiver reflex escaped before Xander could even begin to fight against it. {{Well, if nothing else, he's certainly pretty enough for Will,}} he decided after a moment's thought, choosing to ignore his earlier convictions about 'pretty' guys.

"Well, yeah. I followed Xander, 'ere, to see ya, actually. I don't suppose you know where that poofy sire 'o mine has gotten to, do ya? I figure the little chit will be wiv 'im too, 's that right, Xander?" He looked toward Xander for confirmation.

Xander nodded absentmindedly. {{Ah. So, he wants to know where Willow is, does he? Result!}} "Um, not that I mind, but if you're going to, like, fight Deadboy or anything, do you think you could wait until Willow and I are a long way away? Better still, come back with us to the States, follow Angel to LA. and fight him *there.* Sell tickets! I'm sure you could make a tidy sum...."

"Listen luv," Spike rolled his eyes. "I dunno what that imagination 'o yours has been comin' up with, but whatever it is, get rid of it. What've you been thinking? Child abuse? Ritual sacrifice? Torture and general nastiness from the angry puppy?" His eyes glinted yellow. Xander had obviously made some pretty huge assumptions from what Liz had told him. For Spike it didn't matter whether those assumptions were true or not, just - {{get him away from me.}}

That was it, wasn't it? {{Get both him and Willow away from me before I face me sire. I don't want them to see that.}} And why not? Because it might embarrass Angel? Because it might ruin their opinion of his sire? Or because it might ruin their opinion of *him*?

It wasn't about status, Spike knew that intellectually. He'd lost everything - *everything* - when he'd had that chip implanted. He'd hit rock bottom.

But by having witnesses to his eventual final encounter with Angel - it would be beyond that. He'd have to start digging. {{I don't want them to see me like that. Not now. And certainly not like I was back then...}}

Definitely shades of Dru, he decided. Still protecting the wide-eyed from the truth. And what was the truth? {{How the fuck would I know?}}

He sighed. {{Get these kids away....}} "Did the Spike you knew before all this bullshit happened look like someone who took crap from anyone?" He shook his head, peroxide-blond hair glinting. "Naah, stuff runs in *way* deeper than that. More complicated. Don't go judgin' what ya don't know about. I ain't about ta fight the bloody poof yet - I just want ta talk ta 'im an' Red - *away* from 'ere." He turned his head to glare deliberately at the maitre d', who had been surreptitiously leaning in to try and grab every word. {{And you, you ponce, can bugger off an' all. This ain't for ya. And I can rip *your* throat out; don't think I can't see the way you've been eyeing the whelp's neck. Hands off, eyes off, and mind off. Go screw a sheep.}}

Liz was already reaching for her mobile. {{Shades of Dru?}} She wondered idly. {{He only ever protected *her* from 'im and Angelus... spared 'er eyes.}} The thought almost made her laugh. That the insane Drusilla would ever need protecting from anything.... {{Ah, luv, yer as messed up as anythin'.... I tole ya once and I tole ya a thousan' times.... don't play wiv yer food.}}

But what was *she* doing, then? Why even attempt to speak to Xander?

She sighed. "Where d'you wanna meet 'em?"

*****

"Back *here*?!" Willow stared with dismay at Angel's house again. At his tolerant look, she tried to force enthusiasm into her voice. "Oh. Back here!"

"Careful, Willow," Angel muttered as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. "You're beginning to sound more like Cordelia every day..."

Willow shuddered. "That's of the bad. Point it out if it happens again. In fact, point it out even if I'm quite a bit away from it, because you can get very close to it and not even realise it, and..." She trailed off at the realisation that there were people inside the house already. And the people were being very noisy. It sounded like someone was being pummelled to death.

Her stake came out of her backpack almost without any conscious thought. She moved forward involuntarily, pushing back a strand of copper hair. The moment she took her hand away, the lock fell forwards again. "Angel..." she whispered, casting a quick glance in his direction.

He nodded, pulling a stake out of his coat pocket and pressing himself against the wall next to the closed door that muffled the strange sounds. Willow took a deep breath, wished she hadn't because the dust tried its damnedest to make her sneeze very loudly, and pressed herself against the wall on the other side of the door.

Angel nodded to her once, sharply. She nodded back. The sounds got louder; a rhythmic thudding that indicated someone was becoming a punchbag. A second nod, and then Angel was pulling the door open.

The leather soccer ball hit him square in the face.

"Watch out for the --" Xander ran up to the door, his hair messed up, his cheeks flushed - and a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel's still clutched firmly in his right hand. "Oh." He leaned against the door frame, trying to appear casual. "Uh, come in?" He said, hiding the smugness in his voice with a great deal of difficulty. {{You *bastard*.}} He glanced heavenwards. {{Thanks. I needed to see that.}}

Angel threw him a look that was nothing short of murderous. The vampire slowly pulled out a silk handkerchief from his trouser pocket and raised it to his face. His game face.

//Snap//

Human face.

{{Ow. If only he was a vampire.... I could stake him without any remorse...}} The last traces of his broken nose disappearing swiftly, Angel gathered Willow to him with a look and stalked into the room, elbowing Xander out of the way none too gently.

The witch peeked into the room and bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. Inside, one almost-drunk peroxide blond sat laughing on the floor, three bottles of Jack Daniel's and a bottle of what looked suspiciously like some *very* well-aged wine lined up in front of him. Spike's hair was also mussed up, and although *his* cheeks weren't flushed, Willow was willing to bet her bottom dollar that his lips were much redder than she remembered... {{Oh, he looks *yummy*,}} she thought, before she remembered that she wasn't supposed to think such *bad* thoughts. {{*Bad*, *bad* thoughts, Willow. Slap on wrist. No cookie.}}

Angel, strangely enough, didn't seem all that thrilled to notice the change in his childe's disposition. Indeed, he looked very angry indeed. "What the fuck have you done to my living room?!" {{What is it with people redecorating my stuff?!}} He thought incredulously, tentatively taking away his handkerchief to check that the bleeding had stopped. {{First Cordelia carving up my *floor*, getting peanut butter all over my *bed*, and now - now this!}}

His living room mimicked the appearance of an earthquake zone with a strong degree of vehemence. The mahogany and silk woven loveseat - Drusilla's choice - was pushed into the far corner of the room, propped up against the archaic fireplace. He shuddered as he took in the scratches that ran alongside the carved wood; obviously, someone had had some trouble getting the loveseat to rest against the stone mantelpiece... and, yes, he *hated* that loveseat, but, well, it had been Drusilla's, and there were some happy memories there.... {{Or sad memories, or whatever they are, I forget. Why is it up against the fireplace? And where's my rug?!}}

The hand-woven throw-rug Angelus had captured someone to weave especially for this room was rolled up and thrown casually over the leather armchair that was the only piece of undisturbed furniture in the room.

Strangely, that calmed Angel immensely. His chair was untouched. He loved his chair. It was untouched. Even though the polished hardboard floor was no longer polished - and someone had trodden mud and God-knows what else into it - even though the pictures all seemed determined to hang at an odd angle - even though his childe was sprawled in a careless manner on his floor after kicking a *football* into his face...

{{He didn't touch my chair,}} Angel thought, irrationally pleased. A ghost of a smile crossed his face.

Spike looked up at him and grinned. "'Ello dad." His gaze became focused on something past Angel's shoulder. "Xander, good shot! I couldna done it better myself!" He toasted the boy with his bottle of Jack Daniel's and tipped his head back, taking a rather large gulp that sent him into a fit of coughing.

Angel rolled his eyes while Willow giggled and sat down on the floor beside Spike, legs folded underneath her. "You're drunk," she said airily.

"'m not!" Spike said, licking spilt drops of whiskey from his lips, chin, hands and everywhere else. {{Little chit.... oh, she looks *very* edible. Mmmmm.... look at that lip! Look at that *neck*! I could bite that neck.... that's a very biteable neck....}} He took another swallow from the bottle and choked on the harsh liquid. {{Oh, damnit, why can't I bite her bloody neck?! Is that too much to ask? One little nibble.... she came all the way out here, after all.....}} That very fact made him irrationally angry. {{She didn't come out here for the bite, though, did she? She came here because I *can't* bite...}}

Willow averted her eyes to keep from laughing at Spike's confused expression, unaware of the anger bubbling up just beneath the surface. Laughing at someone while they were down was bad. Bad. Bad. "I wasn't talking about you... Xander, it's illegal to drink!" She mock-glared at the teen who dropped heavily on the floor next to the sitting pair.

Xander made a grab for another bottle of whiskey, despite having one still clutched firmly in one hand, pouting when Spike snatched it away. "'S not illegal here, Will," he informed her, grinning. "You can drink as much as you like once you're 18!"

"Or until you fall down - Liz, what the hell were you thinking, letting these two get pissed like this? I thought you had more sense!" Angel glared at the three on the floor, before transferring his irritated gaze to the figure sitting crouched behind him. She had been leaning against the wall in the corner next to the door and had been temporarily hidden from view when the door had been initially opened. {{Stupid, stupid, *stupid* *bitch*,}} Angel thought angrily. {{The lot o' them could have been staked without so much as a fight.... and look at them!}} Look at them indeed. Angel felt like ripping someone's - some *demon's* - head off and force-feeding it to them. {{They look like kids.... completely unaware of the danger they're in....}}

Xander flopped an arm across Spike's knee and made himself comfortable. Spike didn't object; in fact, he didn't even seem to notice. Angel gritted his teeth. {{Won't shout, won't shout, won't shout....}} He chanted. {{Not my business.}}

Liz finally stepped forwards, sheepishly revealing the bottle of Bacardi Breezer - peach - she had in her left hand. Her ever-present cigarette wavered in her right hand as she brought the filter up to her lips a trifle unsteadily and took a puff. "Yeah, like I was supposed to keep yer little brats amused fer two soddin' hours until you two got 'ere..." She set the bottle of Bacardi down and strode over to them. Despite her admittedly less-than-groomed appearance, there was no stagger in her step, and her gaze remained clear as ever. {{Hmmm... wonder what Angelus dearest thinks about all this goin' on...}} Her gaze came to rest on Xander's arm, still slung partially over Spike's knee. {{Ah, well. Looks like 'e's lost his childe, in any case...}} She wasn't sure how she was meant to feel about that.

"We're now in Mayfair. We started off in Brixton.... it *takes* that long when the bloody Victoria line decides to pack it in..." Angel judged that she'd had a *lot* to drink. It was a good thing that being dead severely inhibited your body's ability to process alcohol.... her and Spike, although giddy and obviously in a good mood, did not appear to be anywhere near 'drunk'. Well, *she* wasn't, at least.... Spike always had trouble with paying attention to any one thing for more than three seconds.

As for Xander...

Angel sighed. He'd guess the boy had had approximately.... four drinks. And already he looked ready to drop.... {{Great. Just - great}} Giving up any pretence of dignity, he crouched down next to his childe. "Spike."

"Yeah, peaches?" Spike blinked up at him tiredly, a smile dancing on his lips. "Xander doesn't like you... 'e says you're a *sick* *fuck*." That seemed to please him. His smile got wider.

"Yeah. News. How much have you had to drink? And why did you want to speak to me?"

"That's why Xander doesn't like you! Because - well...." his brow furrowed in thought. {{Why would Xander be pissed off at *Angel* wantin' ta talk to me? Or - or - whatever he wants to do? Wouldn't that mean he 'ates *Angelus*?}} This puzzled him. {{Am I stupid enough to have misjudged them *all*?}} His face creased into a frown. Angel contemplated hitting his head against something solid for a few hours.

Willow continued to giggle and cast sly looks at the three guys on the floor. {{Um... they're all yummy...}} She thought, then yawned. {{Oh, I'm tired. That must be why my thoughts - all my thoughts - seem to be of the bad. Must get some sleep.... because that would be, like, human. And sensible.}}

She gave the blond vampire a lingering look. {{Aw, he doesn't look as bad when he's had something to drink... all pouty and sleepy..... I bet he's a real snugglebunny underneath all that killing bit...}} She rubbed a hand against her face. {{Okay, it's obvious that I need to stop *all* thought processes until I get some sleep....}} "Spike..." Who was asking?

"Yeah, Red?" And he was looking at her with those pretty sky-blue eyes again.

{{Yum. No! Bad Willow! Bad! No cookie!}} "Um, Spike, d'you, wanna, I don't know, go someplace to talk?" {{Because that wouldn't be obvious as me sitting here with your dad and godmother and blatantly staring at you as though you were a mochaccino covered in chocolate sprinkles... Goddess, girl, you're *really* missing Oz, aren't you!}}

{{Oz?}}

It was a bit of wake-up call. {{Oz. Because he's going to come back... and because he's my boyfriend. Oz.}}

"Talk?" Spike blinked wearily at her, suddenly strangely alert. He turned to face her - his back to Angel. His sire sighed and dropped back to rock on his heels in frustration. "What about?"

{{Oz.}} "Um... you know... the thing about your coming back? Because, as far as I can see, Xander hasn't talked about that...?" Xander seemed three minutes away from snoring.

"Xander passed out," Spike said matter of factly. "Before he passed out, we discussed football, and I showed him a basic kickabout. Before that, we talked about sex and Buffy."

{{Sex *and* Buffy? No, not gonna go there. I *don't* want to know.}} "Um, yes, and he didn't mention that we were here to, um, talk to you and other stuff that might convince you to come back?"

He appeared to think about it for a moment. Angel watched him intently. Liz seemed determined to finish off Xander's abandoned Jack Daniel's. "Um... there was this talk about hittin' me over the 'ead with summink and carrying be back for Buffy, you know, caveman style, but I told him I'd bite his arse." That seemed to amuse him no end. The thought *was* fairly ludicrous when you thought about it.... {{Then again, how am I meant to put up any kind of a fight if he *does* try to force me to come home?}} Spike thought with a sudden frightening clarity. {{And since when did Sunnyhell become home, anyway?}}

Willow sighed. Angel looked around for something to stake himself on. Liz giggled. "Um...." {{Last try.}} "Well, do you think that perhaps we could talk about that? You know, seriously? About the implant and - and - everything? Just me and you..." She cast Angel an apologetic look. He nodded understandingly. "You know - no Angel, no Xander, no Liz. Just you and me."

That brought up Spike short. He sat up, leaning forwards to peer at her intently. Suddenly he seemed frighteningly lucid. "You trust me that much?" He asked slowly. {{Tell me you're scared, Willow... tell me you're scared of me.... tell me *Xander's* scared of me...}}

"Yes, of course...."

{{You fucking whore.}} In one swift motion, Spike jumped to his feet, his duster flying out like a cape behind him with the movement. His body uncoiled like a snake, turning abruptly to fling the half-empty bottle into the wall. It shattered shrilly, sharp pieces of glass embedding themselves in the soft plaster. {{You fucking whore! Get out of my head! Get out!}}

Willow jumped, instinctively retreating to where Xander lay in a stupor. Her mouth was drawn in a thin line. {{No...}} A small part of her mind whimpered. {{No, don't let him go back to what he was....}}

{{Don't let us lose him....}}

Spike turned to face them, his game face on. His demonic eyes, virulently gold and angry, stared at Willow accusingly. "You trust *this*?" He hissed, waving a hand towards his face. Willow made an inarticulate sound at the back of her throat. Spike laughed harshly in the sudden silence. "You trust me? Then what fucking good am I? What's the point of me even being here?" {{Yeah.... look at her! Worse than Dru! She's not scared of me! She's scared *for* me! What am I, one of *them*?! When did I suddenly get the sympathy vote?!}} His angry, scornful gaze came to rest on Xander's supine form. "I drink with Xander - hell, I kick a fucking ball about with him! - and *you*, the Slayer's best friend, *trust* me? I may as well turn in my fangs now! I'm supposed to be a vampire - your mortal enemy - and you fucking *trust* me?!"

Liz shifted uncomfortably on the floor, looking at Spike warily. {{This is either a very good, or very bad thing,}} she thought. {{In any case, it certainly brings things to a head....}} Maybe they'd get some furthering of the plot, here. She'd known these kids for one whole day, and already she was mightily sick of the innuendo and doublethink and uncertainties. {{I don't care if she *is* human, ducks. If you want 'er, just - have at it!}} She cast a glance at the witch, and her good mood immediately dissipated.

Willow remained silent, her eyes closed against the sudden pain. *Did* she trust him? Was he right? {{What right do I have to trust him?}} She thought suddenly, surprised at herself. {{Who am I to him, to trust him? He doesn't know me... he doesn't care...}} Her throat tightened. {{Then why is he so angry? If he doesn't care, why is he so angry?}}

"If it's any consolation, I don't trust you one bit," Angel said, stepping in front of Willow, the stake gripped tightly in his hand. "Why did you want us here?" The unspoken by-play between his childe and Willow had been carefully filed away for later perusal. {{Something weird going on between those two...... and it looks *very* familiar...}}

Spike glared at him, hatred plain in his eyes. "You come here to save me and you point a stake at me? You got some strange ideas about harsh love, *sire*," he spat.

His voice was harsher when he was in his demon face, Willow thought numbly. Metallic.... like it was a blade, cutting through layers of flesh with the pure unadulterated menace in the sound. She shivered at the image.

"Why did you want to see us?" Angel repeated, his face expressionless. His eyes were dark, bleak. {{He's not coming back,}} he suddenly thought with complete clarity. Xander, drunk on the floor, Liz, looking at them both with interest - they were all props... {{He wants to show me that he cares... and that's why he's not coming back....}} The fact that he wasn't the root of the problem calmed him marginally.

"Something strange is afoot," Spike said, then abruptly laughed. His canines glittered menacingly with the guttural sound. "Well, that's new, I guess..... I 'eard ya, when you were walkin' ta the Thames. I followed ya; you didn't notice?" At Angel's stony look, he grinned, his cheekbones becoming more prominent with the motion. "Ah, I know you didn't. Still hope fer me yet, I take it. But I followed ya - and when I saw that kiddie ya roughed up, I followed 'im too." {{Yeah, daddy, I saw that little kid. Didja enjoy roughing 'im up, mebbe? Huh? That why you're so *active* when it comes to stamping out those nasty demons? 'Cause you get to kick arse first?}}

"Why?" That was Liz, sitting on the floor next to Xander, a hand tangled carelessly in the boy's soft dark hair. Spike smiled at the gesture. Trust Liz to adopt another stray puppy...

Liz herself was completely unaware of where her hand was. In fact, 'adopting' Xander didn't seem like too big a deal for her. {{Sweet enough.... keep him around for a while longer then turn him.}} She mused, smiling at the memory of Xander and Spike entwined on the couch. {{Always wanted babies. And these two would be enough trouble for anyone.....}} She sighed. {{Angelus, the bloody git, doesn't deserve any of these kids... not the brat, not Xander, and not the chit. And I'd wager he don't deserve the Slayer neither.}} A small frown appeared. {{So why are they all so damnably loyal to him? Because of his 'soul'? Spare me....}}

Spike seemed to be thinking along those same lines. Why, despite her inherent trust of Angel since he'd grabbed her throat and brought it to his lips, did Willow sit so close to him? To protect Xander? {{More Dru parallels.... or maybe it's in all of them. Maybe it wasn't Dru that kept her tied to him. Maybe it was Angelus himself...}} The thought made his blood boil. "Because I got bored of watching me old man 'ere prance about like he owned the bloody Thames, is why. I wanted to know who the kid would run to - mebbe they'd lead me to the Master." He bit off, then paused. He shrugged self-deprecatingly. "Mebbe I wanted to join 'im."

"You? Join Pausanias?" Angel blurted, then cursed himself for not biting down the question before it escaped.

Spike smiled triumphantly at him. "Yeah." His eyes clouded suddenly, and he frowned, morphing back into his familiar human features. "But the whelp went an' found 'is sire instead - bawled about being roughed up by a vamp who wouldn't die, and called 'imself Angelus." His gaze sharpened. "And spoke about being friends with the Slayer."

"What did his sire say?" Angel asked, his blood cooling. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle with worry. He didn't need this. Whatever it was, it was going to be bad, and he *seriously* didn't need this....

Spike grinned again, a quick grin of the Spike of old, full of malice and teasing and certainty. "'E said that he'll tell the Master that, as 'avin' the Slayer about might mess up their plans."

"Plans?" Willow asked weakly. {{Plans... this is supremely of the bad. Plans are bad. Plans are very bad.}} She grabbed onto Xander's T-shirt for reassurance that the world wasn't going to end.

Again.

"Plans," Spike confirmed, a truly pleased smile on his face.

"What kind of plans?" That was Angel, a wary look on his face. Every fibre in his being was screaming at him to take that one little step closer - but he wasn't going to listen. Not if he wanted both he and his childe to stay undead.

Spike picked up his bottle of Jack Daniel's and took another swig. He retreated to the door way and stood there, smirking at them. "How the fuck should I know? They didn't decide to have a run-through under the eaves of the chippie, you know." He gave the two women sitting on the floor a mock salute. "Tell Xander bye for me. And the Slayer. Thanks for coming out all the way here an' that...." The cruel, patronising smirk was back. "But, as you can see, I *don't* *want* to go back."

It hurt to say it. Not because it wasn't true. But because it was.

{{I'm such a fucking coward,}} Spike thought numbly. {{I'd rather get dusted than ask them for help... and why? Not because they'd refuse it, but because they wouldn't....}} He shuddered at the memory of the Slayer's surprised expression at finding him on her doorstep. His silent plea of 'stake me, stake me' had gone unanswered. She'd taken him at his word, and dragged him inside their little group.

{{And I've been locked in there for so long..... it's worse than anything Angelus could ever do to me - anything The Initiative could ever think of. They smother you with acceptance.}} Could he live with that? No.

{{I'm a demon from hell. No happy endings with fairy tale princesses. }}

He cast Angel one last glance. {{And certainly no defeating the evil... I don't win this round.}} But it didn't seem to matter, somehow. {{I just want it to end. Whichever way it goes.}}

{{Suicidal?}} The thought made his lips tighten in the echo of a smile. {{How the fuck would I know?}}

{{No. Leave. This will be done - later.}} "Later." He said aloud softly, eyes suddenly darkening. {{Later.}}.

Then the doorway was empty.

"Is it just me, or has this been a supremely *bad* day?" Willow inquired rhetorically. There was a part of her that wanted to go away to a quiet place somewhere and cry her eyes out. There was another part of her that wanted to chase after Spike and slap him as hard as she possibly could for daring to leave - {{like Oz.}}

Mostly, though, there was just a complete lack of acceptance. {{He's not gone. He'll be back. You can't just - turn up, and - and - hang out with us, and become our *friend*, and *not* *kill*, and then just leave like it doesn't matter. Because it does.}} "After we come out all the way here to fetch Spike, who can't feed but won't come back--"

"He's fed," Angel interrupted. He'd been able to smell the fresh kill on his childe - along with what must have been a gallon of whiskey.

"--oh." Willow considered this for an instant then carried on. "Not only do we find that he can feed, which basically means that we shouldn't be here since he's technically the bad guy again, but--"

"He's still fixed," Liz corrected, amused. The chit was obviously having trouble dealing.... Her grip on Xander intensified. {{Poor little babies.... it's gonna hurt them if he doesn't come back....}}

Seeing as Willow was not actually accepting anything put to her anymore, let alone dealing with it, this didn't seem to faze her in the slightest. "--Right, and that just makes things more confusing. So, apart from the whole Spike situation - and Xander, who will probably wake up very hung over, but hopefully not regressed to a Neanderthal - well, even more so than usual - we also find out that the London vamps have *plans*." She ran out of breath. {{It's gonna hurt when I have to think it all over.... Major bad.}}

"Yes," Angel said shortly. {{I don't want to deal with this right now..... Damnit, childe, why couldn't you behave for once?}} That was unfair, and he knew it. Spike *had* behaved - he'd taken his grudge against Angel out of the equation. That would be dealt with separately.

Angel wasn't too sure how he felt about that.

Xander groaned and tried to sit up. Liz pushed him pack down again with two fingers.

"Well," Willow decided, as she patted Xander's shoulder comfortingly, "I don't know about you, but my day could have gone better. Not *amazingly* better, seeing as I was meant to study - but I could have helped Xander study for his night course. Because that would have been slightly less traumatic or confusing."

The only vaguely comforting thought was that at least things were status quo at the Hellmouth. {{For once!}}

*****

{{Monsters.... here, monsters....}} Buffy kicked the dirt in front of her and sighed. Two hours, now, she'd been on patrol, and no vamps to speak of. Just the one, who seemed to be mainly intent on running away, rather than interested in trying to fight her. On the other hand, four demons had tried to rip her head off, so her night hadn't been a *total* loss. {{But I'm a *vampire* Slayer, damnit, not a slime demon Slayer! I only do that to fill up the time!}} She thought irately.

Filling up time was exactly what she had been doing all evening. Her day had been predictably empty and boring - apart from Maggie Walsh informing her that she was in serious danger of flunking Intro Psych. She had attended classes like a zombie and skulked in her empty dorm room before giving up and going to Giles'. She disliked Cordelia, sure, but didn't dislike her enough to leave Giles to her tender mercies.

Arriving on her ex-Watcher's doorstep with an armful of goodies, she'd expected a smile, possibly a hug, or an invitation in to share a cup of his incredibly British tea.... anything apart from Cordelia turning up on the front porch wearing not a whole lot and sleepily asking why she was there.

Buffy kicked the dirt with even more enthusiasm. {{Okay, gotta get a grip; Cordelia isn't sleeping with Giles, she's just used to 'Angel time' - stay up all night and sleep all day. No wonder she'd be napping....}}

{{Still. Just because she's a guest in Giles' house doesn't give her permission to wander around *my* Watcher's house in her underwear!}} The mere thought made her blood boil. What must Giles have thought?! {{All that British restraint.... he might have had a heart attack or something!}} The little fact that the 'restrained' Giles had once been the unshockable Ripper managed to slip her mind for the moment.

She looked around the deserted cemetery. {{And where have all the vamps gone?! What is this, their annual retreat from society, or something? Halloween is months off! Did they all just take off for the week and not leave a forwarding address?!}} Having thoroughly killed the evil piece of dirt beneath her feet, she gave up on the 'menacing yet strangely vulnerable co-ed' look and sat down unceremoniously on the nearest bench. Her feet ached. {{Stupid evil bitch monster and stupid fieldwork assignments for even more stupid final grades...}}

Maggie Walsh, in her infinite wisdom, had decided to have a series of 'observations' any borderline students would have to undergo. They weren't the subjects; they were the observers. They had to follow their target around - with the target's knowledge, of course - all over campus for at least three hours a day, recording everything that person did, from standing in line to visiting the bathroom. {{My feet ache!}} The relatively simple assignment in observation had turned into Hercules' 12th labour. {{My poor feet....}}

And still no vamps. "Vampires.... here, vampires. I've got a nice little treat for you...." {{It's a nice little stake.... I mean steak..... here, vampires....}} The wind ruffled the leaves of the many trees all about. So many big, wonderfully huge trees. And not a single one hid a vampire intent on ripping Buffy's heart out. {{Some trees have no fashion sense. A psychopathic killer is *the* thing to be seen with, these days...}}

She wondered if she should perhaps resort to bait. A nice, ripe young girl with long dark hair, perhaps, or maybe a mature woman with a short blond bob.... {{Peace, Buff. Protect the mortals, remember? No killing the protectees.}} Her head heavy with boredom, she let it drop back on the bench, staring up at the sky accusingly. It seemed remarkably normal, except for the rather abnormal bits of it that flickered with hidden lightening. But even *those* were normal on the Hellmouth.

{{Oh, c'mon, just one vamp?}} She asked the sky beseechingly. {{I'll be good, I swear.... I won't even toy with them. Just a quick clean jab to the heart and it's all over, home to sleep and think about Riley. Who, it has to be said, makes a very fascinating specimen of manhood indeed, but is a *lousy* test subject.}}

Still no vamps.

Her teeth were beginning to chatter with the cold. There was still winter's frost on the ground; maybe the graves were frozen and none could rise? {{Maybe they've all moved away....}}

The thought filled her with horror. Taking a deep and extremely cold breath into her lungs, she yelled out at the top of her voice. "Anyone out there?!"

"Well, so much for the 'secret identity' theory," an annoyingly familiar voice said from behind her. Buffy wheeled around, her heart stopping in horror at the realisation that it was Harmony. Standing in front of her. In full bitch mode.

Harmony was equally thrilled to see her. {{So, all summer long, and still no change. Her clothes are a full month out of date. Her hair has seen better days, and her nail polish is chipped. I take it college wasn't the breeze she expected? Hah.}} She tried to keep the smirk from her face. {{Stupid bitch..... runs around and bosses everyone about.... steals my boyfriend - although, technically, I kicked him out, but still! She wasn't supposed to take him in! Hate her. Hate her even more now that she's out to kill me.}} She bit back her fear and stood her ground. Harmony Kendall wasn't about to be intimidated by anyone - she was a vampire, damnit! Didn't that mean anything?

"Well, hello, Harmony.... long time no see." She cast a sneering eye over Harmony's candy-pink outfit. "Well. I gotta say one thing for Spike. At least he had a *positive* effect on your dress-sense..... or is baby-pink *the* 'in' colour for the undead this winter?" Her mouth twisted in scorn. "It kinda clashes with the blue skin, though, Harm. You should get that looked at...."

Harmony, for her part, said nothing. {{Don't say anything, don't say anything...}} She sat perfectly still, her mouth twitching as if she desperately wanted to say something incredibly catty but was biting her tongue to keep quiet.

{{She's gonna get a mouth full of blood if she keeps doing that,}} Buffy thought, without much care. Harmony had been an annoyingly sycophantic little bitch when she was human, and death hadn't improved her self-centred temperament any.

Or had it? She hadn't shifted to game face. There were no fangs in sight. She hadn't attacked. Maybe she'd grown a brain.

{{Oh well. Let's get the slaying over with.}} Buffy pulled a small stake out of her bag; her 'on the go' stake, as she called it. Small, light, extremely portable and easy to use - especially on someone she hadn't liked even when they'd been alive. With her best 'revenge of the bitch' look on her face, she advanced on Harmony. Who didn't seem the least bit inclined to, a) attack, or b) run away.

Buffy stopped. Looked about her. No vamps. Looked behind Harmony. No vamps. Looked up at the sky. No flying vamps. She holstered the stake (metaphorically speaking, of course), folded her arms, and sighed. "Okay, Harmony. What's the sitch?"

{{I'm going to make someone pay for this humiliation. It's just so - so - so *harsh*!}} The blonde vampire looked her straight in the eye and swallowed her pride with a visible effort. "I need your help."

*****

"What am I, flypaper for fanged freaks?!" Buffy shrieked, throwing another pillow across the room.

Waiting patiently outside the door, Giles tried to placate her. "Now, Buffy, you don't *have* to help her.... you're the Slayer. You slay. That's your job description.."

The door opened abruptly and a small blonde head peeked out quickly. "And you're the Watcher and all you ever do is watch! Yes, I know the drill! Aaaaarggghhhh!" With that, she slammed the door closed again.

Giles sighed and leaned against the door frame. His head hurt. Cordelia, once woken up by Buffy, had decided to complain about her life - or lack thereof - non-stop for six hours. Apparently, an Irish man named Doyle was at the root of the problem.

Giles mentally vowed to hunt down all Irish men called Doyle and castrate them, slowly, painfully, for {{causing this *bloody* headache!}}

Meanwhile, his Slayer had locked herself in his bedroom and was most likely destroying the place, while a helpless vampire needing her mortal enemy's help waited outside the house..... again.

{{I will never understand the Hellmouth,}} Giles thought, banging on the door again. "Buffy, be reasonable..." {{And what *is* reasonable? Listening to Harmony? Like she listened to Spike? Are we going to look after *all* stray vampires we come across? I might as well open a crèche....}} "Buffy!" He called again. "Please. Come out. Listen to her. If you don't like what she has to say, you can slay her with a clear conscience. But you have to listen to her, because...." {{Because what?}} His brain asked, puzzled. {{Because it's rude not to? Since when did etiquette start coming into this?}} He rested his arm against the door and softly thudded his head against it. {{Get. A. Grip.}}

The door opened. Giles, off balance, stumbled forwards, tripped over Buffy's left foot and carried on going.

Normally, when a man trips over a woman, he catches himself, catches *her*, and makes sure that she's all right.

Buffy grabbed Giles as his face came to rest a few perilous inches from the floor, pulled him up and over her shoulder in a rather graceless 'fireman's lift', and dragged him over to his bed. He was sat down, his shirt button undone, his forehead felt, and his ribs prodded.

{{This has got to be one of the most humiliating situations on earth,}} Giles thought, from somewhere above his body. {{I must have done something quite insidious in a previous life to merit this treatment every time I - well, every time, full stop.}} He waved Buffy's prodding hands away. "I'm fine Buffy. Can we *please* go downstairs before Cordelia stakes Harmony, or Harmony eats Cordelia? For goodness' sake....."

Buffy continued to sulk for a few more moments, staring at him in a baleful manner. He kept his expression resolute. Finally, she sighed. "Fine. Whatever. But I still don't see why either of those things would be terribly, incredibly heinous..... or even just slightly bad."

Giles sighed heavily, looked skywards (or, to be more accurate, ceiling-wards) and refrained from comment. He had his own theories on why Cordelia had gone to exceptional lengths to be unlikeable around Buffy. Needless to say, he wasn't about to share them with his Slayer.

"Mr. Giles! Can we get this over with, already! You get nothing from nothing, you know!" Harmony's shrill voice carried itself in through the open door and up the staircase, where she couldn't follow.

{{And if another person misquotes Shakespeare, I will rip their throat out,}} Giles thought, wondering as an afterthought if the knock on the head had had some effect on him after all.

Buffy sighed and waved a hand towards the staircase. "Lead on, Macduff."

Giles gritted his teeth and practically ran down the stairs. {{Thou shalt not kill thy Slayer; thy shalt not kill thy Slayer...}}

*****

Buffy sat down on Giles' doorstep, mug of hot chocolate in hand. Cordelia sat next to her, looking similarly thrilled to be sharing a doorstep. Above them, Giles leaned against the door frame, arms folded resolutely and glasses tucked into his shirt pocket. Harmony sat on the frozen grass in front of the porch and stared at them with undisguised animosity.

"So," Giles decided to start, "why exactly are you here?"

"Forget that. Why shouldn't I stake you?" Buffy interjected quickly. She had spent three whole minutes sitting next to Cordelia and, in her opinion, that was three whole minutes too many.

"Gee, let me count the reasons," Cordelia muttered, staring in disgust at Harmony's very pink top. {{That is *so* last season! Did she lose her sense of taste along with - with - everything else?}}

Harmony studied her nails and studiously avoided meeting Buffy's gaze. "I need your help."

"You already said. No clue as yet as to why you'd think I'd be stupid enough to *not* make you all dusty and dead."

Cordelia just watched the traffic on the road and decided to tune most of this out. Since she'd decided that Harmony was really not worth her time - *especially* seeing how she'd almost regained her former position in L.A. - she didn't particularly feel a need to spare any of her valuable time listening to her former friend's whining. {{She never *did* let me get a word in edgeways,}} Cordelia thought, annoyed. {{And what's with the whole, 'look after me, I'm so vulnerable' thang? Puhleeze.}} She fingered the stake hidden in her angora sweater comfortingly. {{I should just stake her here and now...}}

And that really *did* seem the best solution. She didn't really care whether Buffy helped or staked Harmony; all she cared about was getting Buffy on her own and moving on with her plan. {{I have a plan!}} She thought, once again grinning like a madwoman inwardly. {{I have a real life plan!}} She picked at the peeling paint on the door frame. {{And trust Harmony to slow it down....}}

"I say we stake her," she said aloud. "She's wasting our time."

Buffy shrugged. "Okay."

Giles grabbed her arm, preventing her from carrying out her threat. "Buffy - *let* *her* *finish*."

Harmony watched this by-play with vague amusement in her strangely vacant blue eyes. "There are less vamps out here than there used to be." It wasn't a question. {{If this were anyone else...}} If it were anyone else, Harmony wouldn't be there, demeaning herself by begging for help. But it wasn't. It was the Slayer - who just happened to be one of the most annoying people Harmony had ever laid her eyes on. A more self-centred, unpleasant and less-connected person she had never come across. {{Oh, wait.}} Harmony thought with a sudden coquettish grin. {{I have.}} She smiled evilly at Cordelia, letting her human face slip, just ever so slightly.

She was very disappointed at the lack of response from the former May Queen. {{Oh, fiddlesticks.}}

Buffy looked at Harmony in surprise, not even noticing the threatening glare Cordelia had received. She lowered the stake. "Yes?"

"Didn't you notice?" {{Obviously. And they tell *me* I have a short attention span...}}

The Slayer shrugged and tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear. "I did. I was surprised *you* had. Didn't it crash in on your valuable feeding time - or are you on a much-needed diet?" She cast a look over Harmony's figure, not willing to admit to herself that the vamp looked as trim as ever.

Harmony almost bit her tongue off to let that insult pass unanswered. {{She's *so* gonna pay for that one later! *After* she helps me out!}} "You're killing some, but not more than usual, I take it?" Harmony took Buffy's lack of response for a yes. "I thought so.... I heard you started college. That's gotta be tough. You gotta shop for an entirely new wardrobe - I *told* the others that you'd be too busy to go all-out!" She glared at the ground. "They didn't listen, of course. They never listen to me, even when I'm right. And then they felt it too, and they ran like the others...."

Giles blinked at her. "Slow down. What others? Who were you talking to? And what is this 'it' that you keep mentioning?"

"I don't know," Harmony said honestly. She stared up at Giles with a strangely trusting expression on her face. He had used to be a teacher - and although his being a librarian meant that their paths had not crossed often, Harmony had been forced to treat him with at least marginal courtesy. Despite her 'turning', the strong conditioning of 'respect your teachers, listen to your teachers, your teachers can fix your problems' had had the desired effect. When in trouble, run to your teacher. When not in trouble, eat them and torture their best students. "I really don't know.... all I know is, it's big, it's freaky, it's *very* bad, and it's coming here."

"What a surprise," Cordelia muttered. {{Why is it, trouble seems to follow me? Or at least Miss Personality over here. And then either her or Angel get to save the world - again; they both go home to brood - again; and I get stuck with a completely monochrome Angel - *again*. Last time Buffy walked in on my life, the man - vamp - was stuck inside basic black for an entire week! Not even a smidgen of colour.}} She shuddered at the thought.

Harmony threw her a look. {{Enjoying LA., Cordy?}} She thought viciously. She'd still not forgiven Cordelia for abandoning her and the Cordettes - and then the loss of the money! The loss of the status! Their queen dethroned.... {{No, one can't forgive things like that easily....}}

With an effort, she turned her attention back to Buffy. "And I *knew* that something was wrong! But the others didn't listen. They saw whole groups go missing, and thought the Slayer had turned psycho. But I told them, no, it's winter. She has to get a new wardrobe. Then there's the midterms - and the dances! She'll be too busy to go mad!"

"So why are there less vamps out there than before? And how can we make this a permanent thing?"

Harmony shrugged. "It *isn't* a good thing. Lots just - ran. Got seriously spooked and got as far away as they could. And then the fledglings stopped rising..."

Giles looked down at his Slayer's blonde head. "You *did* mention that there have been remarkably few new vampires in the cemeteries Buffy...." He murmured.

"I thought it was the frozen ground making it harder for them!" Buffy protested. "I was willing to wait for them to thaw...."

Cordelia threw her a disbelieving look. "Buffy, they were *dead*. You can't get much colder than that...."

"Correction. They were undead. They didn't rise." Harmony frowned at them. "It gave me the wiggins." {{Not to mention grass stains from all that waiting...}}

Buffy laughed. "It gave *you* the wiggins? How do you think the rest of us feel?"

"Probably pretty freaked out. This thing only affects druggies. The rest rise just fine, thank you." Harmony bit back. Her pretty face contorted into her vampiric visage. She opened her mouth wide to point at her end teeth. Closing it, her face morphed back into human again. "But they're missing their vamp wisdom teeth." She smiled, clearly pleased with her announcement. {{There. *Now* they'll help me.}}

Three humans blinked at her, completely baffled. Cordelia finally spoke up. "I think that falls under the label of gross, *far* too much information, and completely useless information at that. Gee, what did you do in your spare time, Harmony, memorise a trivia book?"

"You are *not* listening," Harmony said, growing more angry and desperate by the second. {{For goodness' sake! What do I have to do here? Draw these social rejects a *diagram*?!}} "You're supposed to get your wisdom teeth, when? When you're *older*. *Why* would these teeth fall out when you're turned? What possible use would that have?"

"It's symbolic," Giles said softly, almost speaking to himself. His gaze had become unfocused - as it always did when a particularly intriguing problem presented itself. "It makes them young again. A-and the drug-addicts didn't rise, you say? How do you know?"

"I did a few tests," Harmony admitted. She flicked her long hair back and preened slightly, exactly as she would have done when handing in a piece of work she felt would earn her at least a C. "I can do that, even though I know you all think I'm dumb. But I figured out that something was majorly strange, so I went out to a party at the weekend, danced for a while, then bit as many people as was possible. None of the druggies rose again. The rest had baby teeth."

"You - *you* - carried out an investigation?" Giles asked, his voice incredulous. At Harmony's scowl, he quickly changed his tone. "Of course you did. And your results are quite - interesting. Something's making all the new vamps - young and pure?"

"As pure as a bloodsucking demon from hell can be, of course," Cordelia added. She went back to studying her nails. "I'm sure that this is all terribly fascinating, Harmony, but I have better things to do. Hitting my head against the wall seems one likely possibility. Was there *anything* useful in anything you just said? And why would you be telling the *Slayer* about this, anyway?"

Buffy nodded. "That's right," she said, not believing her ears. Was she agreeing with *Cordelia*?! "Why are you telling us this? What's in it for you?"

Harmony looked at them with fear plain in her eyes. {{I'm scared.... I want my mom and daddy..... I wish Spike hadn't eaten them....}} "Something's coming," she said, her voice low and afraid. {{I want to go back to the mall and shopping and mochaccinos and trying not to flunk history...}} "Something horrible. Something far worse than anything we - any of us - are. It's strong. It's old. And it doesn't care who it kills." {{I don't want to be involved with all this wiggin' stuff! It's freaky, it's weird, and it should be *Buffy's* area, not mine! I'm Harmony Kendall! I could have been something! I could have gone to *France*!}}

Instead, she was practically begging Buffy - her worst enemy, both before and after her death - for help. Could life - unlife - get much worse?

{{I hate Spike. Stupid retro-vamp.}}

Buffy studied Harmony's frightened form carefully. Her face had gone deathly pale in the moonlight, her clothes suddenly seeming to hang off her as if they were several sizes too big. Only then did Buffy realise that the vampire looked starved under her ten layers of make-up - a look that could be created only by fear so bad it paralysed you, stopped you from moving, from doing anything.

Harmony swallowed. "And - well, the others felt it too. They ran.... nearly all of them. Ran as fast as they could, trying to get away."

"Why didn't you run too?" Giles asked.

"Because I'm afraid," Harmony said, unconsciously echoing Angel. Buffy closed her eyes against the sudden memory. "Because I can't cope on my own out there. Spike - h-he looked after me. I-I would have given him anything, you know," she looked at Buffy, as if pleading with her to believe. "Only he was so horrible to me.... you saw how bad it was. *Major* suckage.... and not the good kind, either!" She shook her head. "Oh, but he got his revenge. I thought I had his minions' respect.... but they just thought of me as Spike's girl. When he went, they went. And now," she sighed. "Now I don't want to run away. I want to stay in Sunnydale. I like the shops here. But I can't do that when something that big, horrible and generally completely gross is going to be turning up." She looked at Buffy squarely. {{This has got to be the singularly most humiliating experience of my life.}} "I want you to protect me."

Buffy burst out laughing.

*****

"*Why* do I have to do this again?" Buffy asked for the hundredth time as she went over the witch books Willow had left behind when she had set out for London.

Giles, sitting opposite her on the witch's bed, raised an eyebrow. "Because I'm not inviting any other vampires into my home without an uninvite spell to hand."

Buffy sighed and turned another page over. "It's not like we have to go along with Harmony," she complained. "We could just stake her and then take on this big bad ugly dude later on, when he comes - *if* he comes." She plucked at the bed coverings idly.

"And lose a valuable information resource?" Giles sounded incredulous. "Besides, it's *Cordelia* who'll have the most to complain about. *She's* the one who'll be responsible for Harmony." {{Mainly because you might stake her,}} he added silently. Anything he could do to keep those three girls separated would be a good thing.

"Thank God for small mercies," Buffy muttered. Sighing, she sat back on the bed and closed the book with an audible 'thump'. "Nothing in this one. Pass the next. Anyway. I think I should rewrite that Slayer handbook.... it hasn't got any stuff like this in it. All that stuff about how to kill a vampire with a toothpick... where are you going to use *that*?" She scowled at the cover of the next book, 'Vampyrs and Witches: how to halt the spread.' "And this book is prejudiced against witches!"

"Well, it's also prejudiced against vampires...." Giles tried to point out, but Buffy wasn't listening.

"Anyway, if Harmony so much as *blinks* in my direction, I'll be hoovering her up before you can say 'evil bitch monster of death'."

{{And I'll be saying that because....?}} Giles thought, and was instantly abashed at the Americanised direction his thoughts were taking. {{Cleanse. Think tea, the Royal Family, The Young Ones....well, perhaps not The Young Ones...}} "Well, Buffy, at least there's one thing we can take comfort in."

"And that is....?" Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"If things are going to get very distasteful here, that means that whatever is happening in London, it can't be all that bad," Giles told her with complete and utter certainty.

Of course, as is often the case when someone is sure of something, he was utterly wrong. Buffy, to whom the possibility that Giles might actually be wrong occasionally had not yet occurred, felt strangely comforted.

*********

END