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How to Treat Your
Lover
by Tami
Chapter 51
Chapter 51: Step
4 – Reconciliation (Part 1)
Lorne handed Fred a bowl of mashed potatoes across a table set with a
Thanksgiving feast. “Here you go darlin’.”
“Thanks,” she replied as she took the bowl.
“You’re going to eat all that?” Gunn mused.
“Until I’m fat and happy,” she quipped, taking a bite off a celery stick.
“Hmm, these look good too,” Lorne commented as he passed another bowl around the table.
“How about that stuffing?” Cordelia asked.
“And these sweet potatoes,” Spike added. It was any wonder why Angel never took part in the consumption of human food. It doesn’t provide nourishment to a vampire, but neither does chocolate, but humans still ate that.
“Oh, pass those over here, Spike,” Lorne said.
Spike took a helping and passed the bowl to Lorne.
“Back in Pylea they used to call me ‘sweet potato,” Lorne said.
Spike raised a brow at that. “Really, I never would have guessed.”
“Yeah, well, the exact translation was ‘fragrant tuber’ but the sentiment was there,” Lorne added.
The group chuckled. Cordelia turned to see Angel at the head of the table. He barely cracked a smile, and his plate was empty.
“You’re not hungry?” she asked.
“No! I’m starving. It’s just . . . I want to remember this moment. You – Spike – all of us – safe – and happy – and together. Considering what we went through these past few months.”
At the foot of the table, Wesley leaned forward and raised his glass in a toast. “To family.”
Angel raised his glass with a wide grin and the others followed suit as he echoed, “To family.”
“As long as it’s not mine,” Lorne added.
Everyone laughed and clinked their glasses. Spike picked up a pitcher of water and poured into Angel’s glass.
“Can’t toast with an empty glass, ponce,” Spike smirked.
“It’s not bad luck, is it?” Angel asked worriedly.
“Relax,” Cordelia assured him. “It’s over. Things are back to the way they should be and nothing is going to get between us again.”
“No Buffy. No Darla. No Holtz or that time traveling bloke,” Spike added.
Angel leaned closer to him. “I’m sorry Will. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”
“It’s okay, Angel. We’re fine. Everything worked out in the end,” Spike said.
Angel wanted to physically show Spike how sorry he was, but then remembered the table full of people and straightened up.
“Let’s eat!”
“Rolls?” Fred suggested as she passed the bread basket.
“Hmm. Those look good,” Gunn commented as he took one and passed it to Spike.
Spike took one and passed it to Cordelia, missing Angel altogether.
“Careful, those are hot,” Cordelia said as she took one and passed it to Lorne.
The rest of the entrees were passed around, but somehow nothing ever came within Angel’s reach as everyone started to eat.
“Can I get the, ah . . .” Angel started to say.
“This is delicious,” Wesley commented as he ate.
“Pass the carrots, please,” Fred asked.
“It smells so good,” Cordelia remarked.
When Fred snagged a green bean from him, Gunn smacked at her hand, “Hey, get your hands out of my plate.”
“Can I have the rolls?” Lorne asked as they were passed around.
“Can someone pass the salt?” Wesley asked.
Upon seeing her plate heaped with food, Fred looked queasy. “Kill me now before my stomach explodes from all this.”
“Here, try the gravy,” Cordelia suggested.
“Yeah,” Lorne agreed as he took it from her. “Look, it even comes in a little boat.”
“Could I get that . . .” Angel said, snatching a platter as it passed by. He set it down on his empty plate only to discover it was the blood and marinade juices from the meat. There was nothing left. “Cordy, what . . . .” He moved his hand and accidentally knocked his wine glass on the floor, shattering it to pieces.
“Now look what you’ve gone and done, ponce,” Spike commented.
The warm festive light was replaced with a watery blue tint as Angel stared down and found his feet ankle-deep in water. His skin was pasty-white with various cracks. He glanced at the table and discovered it deserted and void of the meal.
“Spike?”
Spike sat next to him, silent and motionless, staring at him. He was covered in healing burns and various other wounds.
At the bottom of the ocean, trapped in the metal coffin, Angel’s eyes suddenly snapped open and he screamed, “SPIKE!”
**************************
Aboard a cargo ship sailing between Africa and the California Coastline
After the demon gave him his soul, Spike barely remembered several of the natives entering the cave to collect his body, put him into a wooden crate and stowing him on the ship. He couldn’t tell how long he’d been unconscious. All he knew was that he was in a wonderful dream, surrounded by his friends and mate, sharing a meal. That was, until the scene changed and Angel saw the wounds he’d gained from the demon trials.
“SPIKE!” Angel’s scream echoed through his mind. Although he couldn’t rouse himself, Spike whispered in reply, “Angel.”
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Gunn entered the office where Fred sat at the desk searching the internet for the next clue in finding Angel and Cordelia.
“We’ve spent the last three months chasing one dead end after another trying to find Angel and Cordy, and the only thing we’re closing in on is an eviction. Be a whole lot easier to handle this shit if Lorne was pitching in or Spike came back. Where did Spike go anyway? And where is our future-reading empath demon when we need him?” Gunn ranted.
“Mr. Big-hit-in-Vegas is too busy Danke Schon-ing the tourists to care about us,” Fred replied.
“Did you try him again?”
“Like sixty times. He’s lost the mission, bro,” Fred replied.
“Well, we’re about to lose this whole place and you know you can’t bro – all right? You need to start hustling up some paying clients.”
“We will,” Fred nodded. “As soon as I find Marissa.” As an afterthought she looked up and asked, “Can I say dawg?”
Gunn gave her an incredulous look. She turned back to her laptop. “Oh, this looks good. Condemned tenement on Figueroa, this could be her.”
“Evil Dead was probably just messing with us, and even if she’s there, not much chance she knows anything,” Gunn grumbled.
“Angel’s car was found down by the bluffs. That used to be her feeding ground. She might be able to tell us what happened – if we can find her,” Fred explained.
**************************
The ocean waves broke against the shore at the bottom of the bluff, sending up plumes of white spray. Angel turned away from the view to find Spike leaning against the hood of his car, waiting for him. He was dressed in his normal black attire, but his blonde hair was longer and the dark roots were starting to grow out.
“Spike, you’re here,” Angel sounded surprised. “I thought you took off to parts unknown.”
“We’re tied to each other. I’m with you no matter where we are,” Spike said cryptically. He looked out towards the black ocean. “Nice spot to think about things.”
Angel turned back to the view to see what Spike saw. “Yeah. I came here to sort some things out in my head.”
He frowned as a quick flash of his fight with Holtz disturbed the serene atmosphere before him.
“This wasn’t the way it happened. You weren’t here before,” Angel said distractedly. Another flash of he and Holtz fighting flickered before his eyes.
“Holtz came to settle the score,” Spike said behind him.
Angel turned around to look at his mate. “How did you know?”
Spike shook a cigarette out of his crumpled pack, wrapped his lips around the filter and pulled the cigarette free of the cellophane. Tossing the pack next to him on the hood and lit the cigarette. He took a long drag and let the smoke out in a slow exhale.
“I don’t know firsthand, ponce. This is your memory, not mine,” Spike scoffed.
“Holtz was here. He . . .”
There was a flash of Holtz using the Tazer on Angel.
“You can’t change the past, Angel. You can just move on,” Spike said.
Angel blinked and saw that Spike stood beside him now, looking out at the ocean. The cigarette was gone. He wondered if he would ever see Spike again. And if this was his memory, then why didn’t William show up now?
“Because William is in the past,” Spike replied, answering his thought. “I’m not him anymore than you’re Liam. We’ll see each other again. You may have kicked me out of the hotel. But not out of your life. That’s the bitch of being mated for an eternity. It really means a bloody eternity.”
Angel tentatively reached his hand out to touch Spike’s face. He was afraid the younger vampire would disappear on him. Spike leaned into the touch.
“I miss you, baby boy. If we ever see each other again . . .” Angel started to say.
“We will.” This version of Spike sounded all too casual, like he knew something Angel didn’t.
Angel dropped his hand and looked out at the ocean once more. When he turned back to Spike, the sight that greeted him was a nightmare. Spike was bare-chested and covered in blackened wounds as if he’d been burned.
Angel woke up screaming in his watery grave. He tried to break loose from his bonds, but they were too tight. He went into hysterics, banging his head against the bottom of the metal coffin that was his prison.
**************************
Aboard the cargo ship
Spike’s eyes sprang open when he heard the echoes of Angel’s scream. He felt around in the darkness only to lay a hand on the wood encasing him. He pounded on the lid of the crate, but something was sitting on top of it. He was trapped. He sensed that Angel was in the same situation.
“ANGEL!” Spike screamed. The only response he received was the squeaking of rats as they scurried around in the dark.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
“We don’t even know if this Marissa girl saw anything,” Gunn said.
“Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t. That’s why we’re going to talk to her and find out. The worst thing that happens is that she didn’t see anything and we can add that lead to long list of dead ones we already have, right?” Fred replied.
“No, the worst thing is, we go there and she sets us up to be killed or drains us herself,” Gunn corrected, hefting his axe.
Fred gave him a skeptical look. “You’re a Big Bad Vampire Hunter, you can take on one vampire.”
“What if all Vampirella saw was sand and seaweed? This is it, Fred. There’s no Angel, no Cordy. We can’t find Holtz. His psycho girlfriend’s gone. Spike’s disappeared. We got nothing,” Gunn said.
“There’s still Wolfram & Hart,” Fred suggested.
“Right,” Gunn replied mockingly. “We just stroll into their heavily-guarded law offices and ask Lilah, the evil bitch-queen, for help in finding out what happened to their archenemy, but . . . we’re kind of broke, so it’ll have to be pro bono.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy,” Fred shot back.
“Try impossible,” Gunn cut in. “They’re too big. Without Angel we can’t afford to piss them off.”
“Maybe we should think about asking . . .” Fred asked.
“NO,” Gunn barked.
Taken aback by Gunn’s tone, Fred replied, “Well, I’m glad we talked that over.”
Gunn calmed down and explained, “We already asked him for help twice.”
“Then we’ll ask him again,” Fred said adamantly.
“Fred, Wesley doesn’t give a damn about us.”
“Have we given him a reason to?” she asked defensively.
“He’s made his choice. Now he has to live with it,” Gunn said with a tone of finality and walked out of the office.
**************************
Los Angeles, Wesley’s Apartment
Wesley’s bedroom floor was a disarray of clothes, shoes and stiletto heels. The bed sheets were a tangled mess around two sweaty bodies. Lilah Morgan sank down from her perch atop an equally sweaty and naked Wesley.
Lilah’s lips twisted into a Cheshire grin. Spike was right: he may not have been any help to her, but a former Watcher who had been excommunicated from his own group of do-gooders did wonders for her sex drive.
“Hmmm,” Lilah groaned in relaxation as she stretched. “That didn’t suck.” She rolled closer to her companion. “Well, maybe just a little bit.”
“Perhaps that is something we can expand on next time,” Wesley said huskily.
Lilah smirked, “What makes you think there will be a next time?”
“Because you can’t resist me,” he growled as he pressed a kiss to her hair.
Lilah suddenly pulled Wesley’s head back by his hair and sucked on his ear lobe before whispering, “I think you have that backwards.”
Lilah rolled away from him and slipped out of bed. Wesley raised his head and watched her with predatory eyes. “Where are you going?”
She looked at him over her shoulder as she dressed. “Snack break’s over. Time I get back to work.”
Wesley put his hand behind his head as he watched her dress. His semi-erection was enjoying the show. “Wolfram & Hart does its best work after dark.”
“Sun’s bad for your complexion,” Lilah retorted as she buttoned her shirt. “Just ask Angel. Oh, right. You can’t, because of the whole ‘wanting to smother you with a pillow’ thing.”
“One wouldn’t think that setting Spike up to take the fall would have such a negative effect on our friendship,” Wesley pondered casually.
“You thought you were doing the right thing,” Lilah mused as she slipped her stilettos on. “I hear that can be confusing. Have you tried talking to him? Maybe when he gets back you can --”
Wesley laughed mirthlessly.
“What?” she asked innocently.
“I have no idea where Angel is, Lilah. I don’t know what happened to him, and I really couldn’t care.”
“Wow that was cold.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “I think we’re finally making progress. Come on. Doesn’t it bother you just a little bit – the not knowing?”
“That part of my life is dead. It doesn’t concern me anymore,” Wesley said impassively.
“No, it doesn’t,” Lilah agreed.
She leaned closer for a quick kiss goodbye, but Wesley laced his fingers in her hair and pulled her back for deeper kiss. After a moment, Lilah pulled away and Wesley watched her get up and walk out of the room. As soon as he heard the door close, Wesley pulled on a pair of jeans and walked over to unlock the deadbolt on the closet door. He swung the door open to cage made of metal bars lining the walls, a bound and gagged Justine sat on her knees inside.
“It’s time,” Wesley told his captive. “We’re going for a boat ride.”
**************************
Los Angeles, Middle of the Pacific Ocean
Wesley was at the helm of a small boat as it glided across the dark ocean. Behind him, Justine stood several feet away, glaring daggers at her captor’s back as she rubbed the circulation back into her formerly bound wrists.
“So, what’s it going to be tonight, captain?” she asked snidely. “Bicycle, old tire, or maybe we’ll get real lucky and catch us a nice shopping cart. Here’s a wacky thought: why don’t you swim down there yourself?”
Wesley ignored her completely. He flipped a switch and looked down at the radar screen. “No contact. We’ll try the next grid.” He walked over to the map laid out on the table beside Justine and crossed out their current position and assessed the next portion of the grid.
“Do you really think finding Angel is going to change anything?” Justine sneered.
“Everything changes,” Wesley replied, acknowledging her presence for the first time since they set sail.
“Well, I guess anything is better than sitting around in my cage all day with nothing to do but fill my bucket,” she replied.
Perhaps you should have considered that before slitting my throat,” Wesley stated casually as he walked back to the helm.
“The great Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, the shining beacon of all that’s good and pure,” Justine defined. She let out a false gasp of shock. “But wait, no! That’s before he started banging the enemy and keeping a slave-girl in his closet.”
“You were always a slave, Justine,” Wesley replied. “You just couldn’t see the chains.”
“Thanks, Swami,” Justine held her hands up in prayer. “I’ll meditate on that.”
“Do you think she would be disappointed?” Wesley asked cryptically.
“Who?”
“Your sister; that’s where it all began, isn’t it?” Wesley asked. “Sister murdered by a vampire, consumed by a need for revenge?”
Justine spun around and glared at him. “For justice!”
“Is that what you call it?”
“Angel got what he deserved.”
“We all get what we deserve,” Wesley agreed. “You and Holtz deserved each other. You two had so much in common: pain, loss, deep-seated lack of anything approaching humor.”
“I don’t know. We had a few laughs,” Justine mused. “Getting you to walk Spike right into an ambush? That was a good one.”
“Better than killing Holtz at his behest only to toss his dead body overboard a few miles from where you dumped Angel?”
Justine glowered, genuinely saddened by the loss of her mentor.
“Not much of a plan, was it? Made it easy to figure out which door to kick in when Angel went missing. Not much harder to persuade you to betray everything Holtz had given his life for. Not that it was worth very much.” Wesley shrugged. “Well, you should know. You’re the one who ended it.”
In retaliation to Wesley’s stinging words, Justine grabbed a wrench off the table. She raised her arm, ready to swing it at the back of Wesley’s head when his voice stopped her motion.
“I’ll take your bucket away,” he threatened without turning to see what she was doing.
Justine glared daggers at his back before tossing the wrench back on the table.
**************************
Spike watched the city lights from the rooftop of the Hyperion Hotel. He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out in a long, slow breath. He knew, physically, he was still stuck in a crate on a ship somewhere in the Pacific. But, here he was home. He didn’t really care for L.A. at the end of the Decade of Love and Peace and Timothy Leary fanatics. He wasn’t much for the sheep mentality. He could barely stand the vampire lore, when he was fledge and forced to come before The Master that one and only time. Things did not go smoothly, suffice it to say.
The drugged-out humans were useful if the vampire wanted a good high, but for the most part, it was disgusting. Luckily, he got out of there before the Punk and then the eighties’ glam scene ruled the fashion. However, he hit Seattle just as flannel was all the rage. That fashion gave him nightmares for years afterward.
“Beautiful night isn’t it?” a voice asked behind him.
“The way it should be,” Spike replied. He turned to face Angel who stood several feet away.
“Why are you here?” Angel asked.
“It’s my home,” Spike replied.
“Is it?”
“Wherever you are is my home, Angel,” Spike said as he took another drag.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Angel said cryptically.
“Looks like we’re stuck with each other then,” Spike replied.
When Spike looked into the distance over his shoulder, Angel turned to see a group of vampires come towards him. He turned back to Spike as the blonde tossed his cigarette on the ground and ground it out with his boot. Spike glanced over at him and they shared a knowing look.
Angel and Spike fell into fighting stance as one, long-remembered choreographed move as the vampires attacked. They both turned to see that each had the other’s back. One of the vampires used the distraction to attack Angel’s blindside with a stake. When Spike yelled his name, Angel batted the stake aside and they ended up in brawl with the vampires.
Spike dusted two of them with their own stake. He turned to see Angel’s progress: the elder vampire in a fight with one vampire while two others tried to attack from behind. Raising the stake in his hand, Spike tossed it in a jack-knife throw into the back of one of Angel’s assailants, dusting him and ran towards the other one. He grabbed the vampire by the shoulder, spun him around and slugged him across the jaw. Spike and the vampire traded blows while Angel dealt with his own adversary. Just as Angel dusted him, Spike threw the vampire over the side of the building.
Angel grinned at Spike. “Thanks, baby boy. It’s good to see you still favor a good brawl.”
When Spike turned away from watching the vampire fall to his death on a wood pile below to look at him, Angel gasped in shock. Spike’s face and chest were covered in charred wounds. It looked as if he’d been skinned and burned in various places. His beautiful boy was scarred. It almost brought tears to Angel’s eyes at the thought of what could have happened to Spike.
He woke up screaming, straining against his bonds of his underwater prison.
**************************
Aboard the cargo ship
Spike’s eyes sprang open when he heard the echoes of Angel’s scream. He punched the side of the crate until the wood split and broke away. Kicking the shards out of the way, Spike slid out of the opening and collapsed on the floor of the cargo hold. A minute later, the weight of the crate on top of his prison dropped on the damaged crate.
Spike immediately shifted into his demon to see in the dark. He could hear the ocean waves under the boat, the mice skittering away and the yelling of the ship’s crew above him. He carefully made his way around the storage crates until he found the locked door. He busted the lock and opened the door. His mind filled with the resonance of Angel’s distant screaming. Spike forced himself to put aside his own turmoil for the task at hand. He had to find a way to get back to L.A. and locate his mate.
**************************
Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart, night
“Did you find Angel?” Lilah asked as she fell into step with Linwood and Gavin as they strolled down the hallway.
“Young Gavin,” Linwood gestured to the man beside him with a wave of his hand, “Had a breakthrough with the psychics.”
“The brain boys are finally earning their keep,” Lilah smirked. “So, where is he?”
“Well, I haven’t pinpointed his exact location yet, but I have ascertained that he’s safe and immobilized,” Gavin assured her with a smirk of his own, proud of his accomplishment.
“Really?” Lilah raised a brow. “Maybe you can lead them in a rousing chant and get them to a muster up a little more vague.”
“He’s contained and out of play. Which suits our purposes just fine,” Linwood announced.
“If our purpose is to get caught with our prophecies down,” Lilah shot back. “Angel is supposed to be a major player in the apocalypse. You remember that, right? It’s the little pet project the Senior Partners have been working on since, oh, the beginning of time?” She glared at Gavin. He was a cheap imitation of Lindsey and not nearly as fun. “Three months and all you’ve been able to ferret out is – nothing!”
“Beg to differ,” Linwood broke in. “Gavin’s work with the psychics has uncovered some invaluable insights in a variety of unexpected areas. Would you care to enlighten us?”
Lilah knew this day would come when she started her affair with Wesley. However, she was more annoyed than she thought she’d be. “What I do on my personal time is none of Gavin’s business.”
“But, everything is my business,” Linwood reminded her.
“I’m not sleeping with him for information.”
“Please don’t tell me it’s the chiseled jaw,” Linwood scoffed. “If you have his confidence then we can play it to our advantage.”
“He doesn’t know anything,” Lilah replied. “There’s nothing to take advantage of.”
“Except you,” Linwood almost sounded disappointed in her. “There’s a staff meeting in an hour. Don’t be late.” He signaled to Gavin to follow him as he walked away.
Lilah watched as Linwood and Gavin entered the elevator and then walked in the opposite direction towards her office.
**************************
Wesley looked at the radar screen when it beeped. “Solid contact, definitely metallic,” he announced.
“Probably more junk, could be anything down there,” Justine shot back.
“Better have a look then,” Wesley said as he tossed a diving mask to her.
Wesley waited on deck as Justine swam below the surface to investigate. He had to find Angel. If he did that, maybe it would make up for what he had done to Spike. He wasn’t looking to be in the good graces of the demon that tried to smother him with a pillow. But, just maybe it would lend some measure of atonement on his part.
Several minutes later, Justine resurfaced. When she gave an affirmative nod, he lowered the cable where she could grab it and guide it down to the coffin. He thought about the past few months while the cable continued to roll out. It was a week or so of fucking Lilah before she told him Angel and Cordelia had disappeared. He set up his own investigation to figure out what happened to them. He had gone so far until he hit a road block that stopped at the nether world where no living thing could cross, which was another reason to rescue Angel. As for the vampire himself, it didn’t take Wesley long to track Justine down. It wasn’t like she’d hid very well. When he’d figured out what she’d done to Holtz, it was easy to manipulate her into this search for Angel. She had just enough guilt to play on.
Justine resurfaced again and climbed back onto the deck. Wesley set the lever in reverse and they watched as the hoist hauled the coffin out of the depths of the ocean and on board the small boat.
When the coffin finally set down, Wesley lit a blow torch and burned through the welds that secured the sidebars. Setting the blow torch aside, he moved to one end of the coffin. “Justine, come on.”
He slid the bars out and then he and Justine lifted the lid off the coffin. Wesley cut through the steel cables that held Angel immobile.
“Congratulations,” Justine sneered. “You’re the big hero. Maybe your friends will throw you a party. I wonder what the cake will look --”
Justine was rendered speechless when, suddenly, Angel’s hand shot up and grabbed Wesley by the throat. Angel’s eyes snapped opened. His brow furrowed as his eyes focused on Wesley. Gently, Wesley took hold of Angel’s hand and pulled it away to lay it back down on his chest. He hauled Angel out of the coffin and laid him on the table. Angel’s skin was white and cracked from a lack of nourishment.
When Wesley pulled out a couple of glass jars of dark liquid, Justine inquired, “Blood?”
“Animal,” Wesley corrected as he lifted Angel’s head and tried to get him to drink some of it.
“What’s the hurry? It’s not like he’s going anywhere,” Justine said derisively.
“A vampire can exist indefinitely without feeding, but the damage to the higher brain functions from prolonged starvation can be catastrophic,” Wesley explained. When Angel started to cough, Wesley urged, “Slowly.”
“All that energy you’ve wasted to save that thing. For what, a happy ending? For everything to be like it was? He hates you. They all do. And they’re never going to take you back,” Justine said, driving the knife deeper with her cutting remarks.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Fred and Gunn were in the lobby huddled around the reception desk when the phone rang.
“Are you going to get that or should I?” Fred asked.
“Let it ring,” Gunn said disinterestedly. They hadn’t had a good lead on Angel and Cordelia or a case in months. Why should now be any different?
“What if it’s a client?” Fred asked.
Gunn blindly reached over and picked up the phone. “Angel Investigations.”
**************************
Angel lay on the table in the cabin of Wesley’s boat. A rolled blanket was under his head and another covered his body.
“Why is it like this?” Angel pondered aloud.
“It’ll change, Angel. It always does,” Spike replied.
His fingers caressed his Sire’s palm as he slipped his hand into Angel’s. Angel squeezed it to reassure himself that Spike was there.
“Life should be beautiful and bright. No matter how hard I try, everything I touch turns to ashes,” Angel said.
“I haven’t died. You kicked me out of the hotel. I had to leave to prove that I can be a better man – demon,” Spike corrected him.
“How is he?” Wesley asked as he came down the stairs.
“He won’t shut up,” Justine replied.
“I have to stop him,” Angel said to himself. He had to find a way to get Spike back. His boy left to prove a point. His mind was too foggy to pinpoint Spike’s current location. When he tried, all he saw was pitch black. There was nothing.
Wesley walked up to the table. “Angel?”
“I have to do it,” Angel said to himself. He tried to get up, but Wesley put stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Shh, you need to rest now,” Wesley soothed.
“I need Spike,” Angel stressed as his head rolled to the side. He caught sight of Justine. The bitch that stuck him in that box, the one that helped Holtz complete his revenge. “I should have killed you.”
Wesley looked at Angel as Justine backed away from the incapacitated vampire as much as the cabin and the handcuff around her wrist, shackling her to the wall, allowed.
“He’s been down there too long. Pig’s blood isn’t enough. He needs more substantial nourishment,” Wesley surmised.
“Like what?” she asked hesitantly. Her eyes became saucers when Wesley turned to her with a knife in his hand. “Fuck you! I’m not feeding that thing.”
“Your blood’s too thin,” Wesley commented.
It could have been read as an insult if it actually mattered, but Justine didn’t care about the vampire Wesley was trying to save. His kind killed her sister. All vampires should be eradicated from the world. It didn’t matter if they had souls or were fighting for good. Vampires were evil.
She watched with disgust as Wesley used the knife to cut his inner forearm and held it over the vampire’s mouth. She thought she’d be sick when Angel gripped Wesley’s arm to hold him still and drank the blood that flowed out of the cut. He was too weak to slip into his demon.
**************************
Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart
Lilah had arrived early for the staff meeting. She’d spent a good part of a half hour putting her surprise into place. She stood behind Linwood’s high-backed chair inspecting the device to make sure it was well hidden and wouldn’t be detected when the other members came in. If Mr. Suvarta, one of the Senior Partners, hadn’t agreed with her proposal, she never would have had the confidence to pull something like this off. She smiled to herself. That was what made her the best at her job. Lindsey MacDonald may have been the company’s golden child, but she had conned her way to the top with better schemes, and Lindsey had ran back home with his tail between his legs.
When the latch clicked and the door opened, Lilah moved to a seat halfway down the table as the other staff members too their seats.
“All right, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, so let’s get to it,” Linwood announced as he walked in with Gavin Park following him like an obedient puppy. “Let’s talk about . . . Lilah,” he pointed glared at her and then glanced at the other members. “Has everybody had a chance to review her file?” When everyone nodded, he gave them a cruel smile. “Good. Any recommendations?”
Lilah weakly raised her hand. “If I could just have a few minutes to explain . . .”
“I think your record speaks for itself,” Gavin said smugly.
“Volumes,” Linwood agreed. “Your failures at Wolfram & Hart outstrip your successes by an uncomfortable margin. Perhaps you would fair better at a less central office?”
“One of the third-world dimensions maybe,” Gavin suggested with a conceited tone.
Lilah was starting to have second thoughts about where she put that device. Just for spite’s sake, she should have added one behind Gavin’s chair as well and killed two birds with one stone. For now, she would have to be satisfied with the current plan.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“What was that?” Linwood asked.
Clearing her throat, she said louder, “I said: I’m sorry. I’ve made mistakes, but fear has never been one of them.”
“Is there something you would like to share?” Linwood prompted.
“Why haven’t we done anything in locating the vampire’s mate and using him to our advantage? Or one of his other team members?” Lilah asked pointedly.
“We’re assessing our options in that department,” Linwood answered.
“The same way you’re assessing Angel? Then, why aren’t we trying to pinpoint Angel’s location?” Lilah shot back.
Tired of questions he didn’t have answers for, Linwood barked, “Lilah! This is my corner of the sky. I decide when the sun rises and when it sets. Lack of long-term vision has always been one of your shortcomings.”
Lilah stood up with a palm-pilot and stylus in her hand. Looking directly at her boss, she replied, “And lack of courage has always been one of yours. You’re afraid – of Angel and Spike. You don’t know anything about his connection to Angel. That’s the reason for your daring strategy of ‘wait and see’, isn’t it? You have no clue what Spike’s stake in Angel’s life or the apocalypse is.”
“And you do?” Linwood asked.
“He and I had drinks,” Lilah said cryptically. Linwood didn’t need to know that the meeting was fruitless. “But you’re afraid to find out and fear breeds weakness.”
“Oh,” Linwood said sadly. “I’m hurt. Is that really what you think of me?”
“Yes, and Mr. Suvarta agrees with me.”
“You spoke to a Senior Partner?” Linwood asked in genuine surprise.
“Yes, he was really very helpful. He had some great hints on office furniture.”
“This is outrageous!” Linwood said angrily. “Are you actually telling me that you went over my head?”
Lilah used the stylus to press a button on her palm-pilot. There was an electronic beep just before a blade boomeranged out of the backrest on Linwood’s chair, slicing neatly through his neck.
“Just under it, actually,” Lilah commented to her boss’s stunned face.
Linwood’s head, with the fixed staring eyes, tumbled forward and rolled down the table. Gavin was too shocked for words as he stared at his mentor’s head.
“Mr. Suvarta didn’t think Linwood’s sky was sunny enough. You’re all reporting to me now.” Lilah sat down again. “Get out.”
As everyone tries to quickly and quietly get up and file out of the room without upsetting their new boss, Lilah’s voice stopped the one trying to scurry out of the room without being noticed.
“Gavin.”
He froze in mid-step. Lilah gave him a slight smile as she gestured towards the decapitated head with her stylus. “Please, remove that.”
Gavin gulped at the idea of touching a dead body at all. When he took this job, he agreed to ethics violations and back stabbing schemes. He didn’t agree to body disposal. He was a lawyer, not a garbage collector. Isn’t this why they owned the city crew?
**************************
Los Angeles, Point Dume
Wesley opened the car door and settled Angel in the passenger seat. Angel’s face was pale and cracked from lack of nourishment for the past three months. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at Wesley.
“He’ll turn on you!” Justine yelled behind them.
Ignoring her, Wesley closed the passenger door and walked around to get behind the wheel.
“He won’t be able to help it. That’s what he is. Sooner or later he will turn on you and all your friends!” Justine threatened. She was handcuffed to a railing. She glared daggers at Wesley who ignored her as he buckled his seatbelt and started the engine.
“You’re just going to leave me here?” Justine asked.
Wesley held up the keys to the cuffs before tossing them at her feet. “You can continue to be a slave, Justine – or you can live your life. It’s your choice.” With that, Wesley drove away, leaving Justine behind.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Fred and Gunn rushed out of the manager’s office when they heard the lobby doors open. What greeted them was Wesley helping Angel down the steps. “I believe you’re looking for this,” Wesley said.
Angel raised his head and looked at them.
Fred stopped in her tracks. He was barely recognizable. There were cracks in his gray skin from lack of nourishment.
“Angel?” Fred inquired cautiously.
Gunn hurried over to help Wesley lead Angel to the settee.
“Oh my God,” Fred’s feet finally decided to work, and she stumbled over to sit next to Angel. She made a cursory check of his skin to locate any wounds, but found nothing.
“Is he going to be all right?” Gunn asked as he looked at Angel. The vampire looked like death warmed over a thousand times.
“In time, maybe,” Wesley said disinterestedly.
Angel’s head rolled to the side against the headrest.
“He’s out of it,” Gunn commented.
“Oh God,” Fred was still shocked by Angel’s appearance. This was not the same man that saved her in Pylea.
“It’s okay, Fred,” Gunn reassured her, not even believing his words.
“Look at him!” Fred said anxiously.
“It’s going to be okay.”
Angel slowly looked up at them. He could feel their eyes on him. He didn’t need to see them to feel Fred’s distress at his appearance or Gunn’s uncertainty as to whether he could recuperate from being malnourished for so long.
Wesley started to back away from them.
“What do we do? Wesley . . .” Fred started to say. Angel’s eyes slid shut again. When she didn’t receive an answer, she turned to see Wesley trying to sneak out the door. “Where are you going?”
Wesley stopped and looked at her. “I’m done here.”
“You really don’t care anymore, do you?” Fred accused.
Wesley’s only response was to walk towards the door, saying, “He’ll need more blood. I’m fresh out.”
With that, the door closed behind Wesley, leaving Gunn and Fred to deal with Angel’s emaciated condition themselves.
“God, he’s freezing,” Fred said.
“I’ll go get some blankets,” Gunn said and left. He came back with an armful of blankets and wrapped them around Angel while Fred went to the kitchen to heat up some blood.
When Angel could find his voice again, the first word out of his mouth was, “Spike.”
“Shh, Angel,” Gunn said as he tried his best to get the vampire warmed up.
Fred came back and sat beside Angel, holding the cup for him as he sipped the blood. He pushed the cup away and tried again, “Where’s Spike?”
“Not here, man. He’s been gone for as long as you have,” Gunn replied.
“Wesley told me everything that’s been going on,” Angel said. “He said Cordelia went missing the same night I did. What happened to her?”
“We don’t know,” Fred replied. “You need to rest, Angel.”
“I need Spike . . . and we need to find Cordy. Wherever she is, whatever she’s going through, we need to find her,” Angel said. He touched his forehead, trying to slip into Spike’s mind, but it was still too dark. “Spike, where are you?”
**************************
Los Angeles Harbor
Spike fell over the side of the boat as it neared the pier. No one on deck seemed to notice the splash. He swam to shore and climbed up the bank. The screams of his victims resounded in his mind. It was almost impossible to block them out, but he couldn’t succumb to the voices yet. He had to make it home to Angel first. Now if he could only remember how far away the hotel was.
Spike slunk through back alleys and the sewers until he reached the tunnel that led to the Hyperion Hotel. He barely remembered climbing up the ladder and crawling inside the basement. One minute he was trudging through dirty sewer water, the next he was huddled in the far corner of the basement, curled in a fetal position with his arms around his head, listening to the terrified screams in his head.
If there was only somehow, some way, someone to make it stop!
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