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How to Treat Your
Lover
by Tami
Chapter 53
Chapter 53: Step 4 – Reconciliation (Part
3)
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel Roof
Spike looked down at his hands folded on his lap as he sat on the edge of the roof. He refused to look at Angel. It wasn’t like he was there anyway. His hand would probably go right through if he tried to touch him. That was the thing with memories, none of it was tangible. For all he knew, he could still be on the slow-boat from Africa.
“Spike, look at me,” Angel said as he took a step closer. Already this conversation was going a lot better than the one he initially had with Cordelia. At least, Spike wasn’t backing away from him. Not that he had anywhere to go, unless he wanted to jump off the roof. Thinking about it like that made it seem like he had an unfair advantage trapping Spike on the roof like this.
The blonde curls moved as Spike looked up at Angel. All Angel could see was the torment. Torment was so familiar to him. There was also restlessness, fatigue, strain from nightmares – or worse. Angel moved closer and perched on the edge of the roof next to Spike.
“So, how was your summer?” Angel’s tone came out in mocking nonchalance. “Mine was fun. Saw some fish, went mad with hunger, hallucinated a whole bunch.”
“What happened to you?” Spike asked quietly.
“Holtz’s idea of vengeance,” Angel replied. “He and his girlfriend locked me a metal coffin and dumped me offshore. Wesley found me and brought me up. From what he told me, Holtz had his girlfriend kill him and dump him in the ocean – minus the coffin.” Spike looked at him in surprise. Angel shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad really. I mean, Buffy sent me to a hell dimension for a hundred years or so. As far as I’m concerned, three months under the ocean gave me perspective.” Angel tilted his head in thought. “Kind of an M. C. Esher perspective.” He shrugged. “It gave me some time to think about us, about the world.” Angel looked at the night sky and the glow of the city lights. “Nothing in this world is the way it ought to be. It’s harsh, and cruel. It doesn’t matter where we came from, what we’ve done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world was what it should be, to show it what it can be.”
Silence reigned for a several minutes before Spike spoke. “Three months living on the ocean floor and that’s what you came up with?” He scoffed, “Ponce.”
Suddenly, the blonde vampire burst into a fit of maniacal laughter. Angel looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Spike looked over at his Sire quizzically. The laughter stopped as abruptly as it began.
“The thing is, I had a speech all planned for when I saw you again,” Spike said quietly.
“A speech about what?” Angel asked. When Spike didn’t answer, he sighed. “Spike, if this is about why I kicked you out of the hotel --”
“No. That’s over and done with,” Spike shook his head, “Can’t come back from that. There’s no way to come back from that. Wishing that it would make you pay for the wrongs you’ve done to me. It was a bloody ludicrous idea, right? That’s fine,” He tapped the side of his head with a finger. “Not the best laid plan in the world. That’s like making God pay for the Great Flood or the Devil pay for his sins against God that got him booted from Heaven. Not something you can just sweep under the rug, can you? I tried to . . . try to make it right.”
Angel looked at him, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Spike, have you completely lost your mind?”
Spike straightened up, he stood and turned on the elder vampire. “Well, yeah. Where have you been all night?”
“What the hell happened to you?” Angel asked bewildered. Spike stood right in front of him but it was like he wasn’t there at all. It seemed like he was a million miles away . . . or a lifetime away.
Spike patted his chest. “I tried to find it, of course.”
“Find what? What were you looking for? Me? I’m right here,” Angel replied, trying to follow the disjointed words.
“No. The spark. The missing . . . the piece that made me fit. That would make me fit. Because you didn’t want me. You kept sending me back to Sunnydale and then you kicked me out. I had to find the piece that would make you see that . . . God, I can’t do this.” Spike growled in frustration, turned on his heel and walked away.
Angel stood up and in several long strides, caught up with him. He grabbed Spike’s arm and spun him around. Spike wouldn’t look at him directly. He stared at his shoes, at the ground, the skyline, but not at him.
“Stop running away from me. I can’t help you if you keep running away. Now, tell me what you’re talking about,” Angel demanded.
“I dreamed of you,” Spike said softly as he stared at the skyline. “I think they were dreams. We were at a dinner table . . . set up for Thanksgiving I think.”
“Yeah, it was part of my hallucination,” Angel confirmed. He watched Spike nibble his bottom lip.
“There were other scenes too. On a cliff and somewhere . . . I don’t know.”
“You were in my hallucinations, Spike. We share a bond. Where were you? How did you get home?” Angel asked. His tone belied his growing impatience. Just then the moonlight illuminated the pale skin revealed by the half-open shirt Spike wore. Angel opened the shirt wider and saw the healing scratch marks on the otherwise perfect skin. “What did you do, Spike?”
Spike looked down at the scratches, almost surprised to see them there. “I tried to cut it out.”
“Cut what out? Your heart?” Angel asked perplexed.
“The spark. You should’ve warned me,” Spike finally looked Angel in the eyes, glaring actually. “You make a good show of forgetting, but it’s here,” he traced the healing marks, hissing painfully when his nail caught a jagged edge. “It’s in me all the time. The spark.” He looked at Angel’s chest. He couldn’t bear to look at his Sire’s face and see the disappointment. He knew for certain that Angel didn’t have any scars under his shirt. “I wanted to give you something better, to prove I was better. They put the spark in me and now all it does is burn.”
Angel looked shocked for a moment. He reached out with both hands and tilted Spike’s face to study him. For several minutes, Spike refused to look at him. When he finally opened his eyes, Angel stared at him, searching for something. Then, he found it, a glimmer. Spike’s insane ramblings made sense now.
“Oh, God,” Angel choked. “You naïve, beautiful boy, what have you done?”
“They gave me the spark so that you can have what you deserve,” Spike replied with a bitter laugh. “It hasn’t been used in a while.”
“How did you --” Angel started to ask and then closed his mouth, still shocked at what he saw in his boy’s eyes.
“It’s what you wanted, right? To be equal, so you wouldn’t send me away again. Now everyone is inside, talking. Everything I did. Everyone I – and him, the monster inside that needs to feed. The other being that is a part of me, yet separate. They all just tell me to go . . . go . . . go to hell.” A sob escaped. It was uncontrollable. He couldn’t have held on to it any longer. “Please, don’t send me . . . .”
Angel stared at Spike, astonished by his confession. It was surreal. The whole night had been bizarre. Spike had taken off three months ago and came back with a soul. For him. But why? “Why did you do it, Spike?”
“I did it for you . . . for forgiveness . . . for acceptance,” Spike whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. He buckled under the weight of his admission and fell to his knees at Angel’s feet. He wrapped his arms around Angel’s waist, hugging him, holding on as if Angel were a lifeline. “Everything’s okay, right? Sire . . . forgive me? Can we rest, now?”
Angel squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. When was the last time someone asked for his forgiveness? When was the last time someone went to the end of the world in search of a way to better themselves for him?
Angel reached down and pulled Spike to his feet. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, he helped Spike walk to the door and down the stairs to their room. It was their room again. He helped Spike inside and pushed the door shut. He directed Spike to sit on the bed and proceeded to undress the younger vampire. Once Spike was naked, Angel settled him under the covers and then stripped down and joined him.
Angel tugged Spike against his body and hugged him. “It’s okay, baby boy. Rest now, no one’s going anywhere. I’m not going to send you away.”
He felt Spike’s body relax against him. While Spike slept – probably for the first time in months – Angel stared the ceiling. After all he’d been through, it was almost too much. Being trapped at the bottom of the ocean didn’t seem like a huge thing at the moment. Somehow Spike had gone and got a soul to prove his commitment to him. In all the years they’ve been mated not once did Angel think about mentioning a soul to Spike. It was the last thing his boy had ever wanted. Was it a curse? Did Spike run into Gypsies?
Angel focused on the ceiling and the crack running along it left over from the earthquake that happened months ago. He’d stayed alone in this room and never realized how bad it was. The cracks had gone neglected in lieu of his heartbreak over Spike’s disappearance. Now that he was back, the cracks were almost glaring. He should really fix this room up, make it habitable again.
Angel looked down at Spike sleeping soundly. Snuggling against the slighter body, he pressed a kiss to Spike’s forehead and closed his eyes, joining his mate in slumber.
**************************
Angel awoke at dusk. It took him a moment to realize he’d slept all day. It was the first time in months – since Spike disappeared – that he’d had a decent day’s rest. The thought of Spike not being there caused Angel to tighten his hold on the sleep-warmed body next to him. Spike purred in response, but didn’t wake up. Angel closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, curled around the one thing that made him complete.
An hour later, Angel was roused by a whimpering voice.
“No. No. Too much, too much, too much, too much, too much, too much, too much . . . inside me all the way,” Spike mumbled in his sleep.
Angel leaned up on an elbow and tried to wake the blonde vampire, but to no avail. Spike was deep in a nightmare.
“Deep, deep, deep inside me,” he continued to ramble.
Angel shook him, “Spike, wake up! It’s just a nightmare. It’s not real.”
“Get away,” Spike replied as he pushed against him. “Have to get away. He doesn’t want me. Not like this.”
“Spike, come on, baby boy. Wake up,” Angel pleaded as he held onto Spike so he wouldn’t fall over the side of the bed.
“No more mind games. No more mind. Had to find the spark, the spark . . . ain’t we in a soddin’ engine?”
“Spike!” Angel yelled.
That brought a reaction out of the younger vampire. Suddenly Angel found himself flat on his back with Spike straddling him and his hands wrapped around his throat. Not that he was in any danger of suffocating. It was a defensive maneuver; Spike lashing out at his nightmare.
“Spike, it’s me,” Angel said quietly.
The blonde vampire stared at him as if he were seeing someone or something else. Several minutes passed as Spike struggled to find his bearings and slowly released his hold. He collapsed against Angel and strong arms enveloped him. Spike shuddered against the big vampire. Angel wasn’t sure if it was from the chill in the night air or his nightmare.
“I don’t trust what I see anymore. I don’t know how to explain it, Angel. It’s like I’ve been seeing things. Drusilla used to see things, you know? She’d always stare up at the sky watching cherubs burn or the heavens bleed or some nonsense. I used to look at her and think she’d gone completely crazy. But, she’d see the sky when we were inside and it’d make her so happy. She’d see showers. She’d see stars. Now I see her. I see what we did. I see the people I’ve killed. I’m not even sure you’re really here or if I’m still on that boat in the ocean.”
Spike’s voice reverberated against the crook of Angel’s neck as he spoke. All the dark vampire could do was listen. Angel’s heart broke at Spike’s words. It had taken him a hundred years to tune out the voices in his head. He couldn’t imagine Spike suffering for the next hundred years as he learned to ignore his own memories.
“Spike . . .”
“I’m in trouble, Angel,” Spike admitted in a barely audible whisper.
“Shh, Spike. It’s okay. Everything will be fine. We’ll get through this,” Angel said softly. Now seemed the best time as any to ask the one question that’s been weighing on his mind. “How did you get your soul?”
“I went to Africa in search of a legend. There’s a demon that will give you what you ask for if you survive his trials. I didn’t know I would get this. I just wanted something to show you that I could be better than I was. He promised to make me what I was and restored my soul.”
Angel was silent as he absorbed this information. Spike wasn’t cursed. He’d asked for his soul without realizing what he was getting himself into. Now the memories were making him nearly insane. He remembered telling Spike to get out after he discovered the memories of the affair with Buffy. Spike had used that to go to the end of the world, to work through a set of unknown trials and gained his soul. Whatever happened between them in the past wasn’t important anymore. Spike had been and would be punished enough by the past deeds of his demon. He wouldn’t turn him away now. Sending him to Sunnydale was definitely out of the question. No one there understood what having a soul was like after a century of being evil – no one except him. Then, it hit him what Spike’s soul meant. There was someone else just like him that understood him.
“I’ll help you get through this. You won’t have to deal with this alone,” Angel promised. Suddenly, his cell phone vibrated on the nightstand behind Spike, startling the younger vampire. “It’s okay, Spike. It’s just the phone.” Angel reached over him and grabbed the phone, answering it. “Hello?”
“Hey Angel dumpling, I found a memory spell. Well, it sort of fell into my lap courtesy of one of my clients. It’s been guaranteed to bring our Cordy back to the way she was,” Lorne said excitedly.
“Guaranteed?” Angel asked skeptically.
“Yep! No pain, no side-effects. I’m telling you, there’s no way this can fail,” Lorne said confidently. “This client deals in memory spells professionally. She swore up and down that with the right mix, we can stop this amnesia thing in its tracks and cut to the Cordelia Chase in two ticks of a . . . ticking thing.”
“I don’t know, Lorne. Spells . . . I don’t trust them,” Angel hedged.
“Well, Cordy’s all for it,” Lorne said.
“If it helps get Cordelia’s memory back, we should try it,” Spike spoke up.
Angel looked at him astonished that he had an opinion at all. Spike had been so wrapped up in his memories that Angel didn’t think that he cared one way or the other. Angel looked at the haunted blue eyes, unsure if Spike was really ready for this.
Never taking his eyes off Spike, Angel replied, “Fine, we’re in.”
“Great! I’ve got all the ingredients lined up. As soon as you get down here and we gather the others, we’ll be good to go.” Lorne hung up before Angel could say anything more.
Angel shut the phone off and set it aside. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, I need something else to focus on besides what’s going on inside my head,” Spike replied.
“Okay then, let’s get dressed and go downstairs,” Angel said as he got up and searched for a clean pair of pants and a shirt. Spike followed suit.
**************************
Hyperion Lobby
Angel and Spike met Gunn and Fred on the landing of the stairs. While they were dragging themselves out of bed, it seemed Lorne had utilized the time and painted a symbol on the floor of the lobby. Thick white strokes formed a two-foot diameter circle with evenly spaced three-foot lines off-shooting from it. He was in the process of placing the needed supplies around the circle.
“Oh great, more symbols on the floor,” Gunn said sarcastically as he descended the stairs. “That’s always good.”
“Check your sarcasm at the door, pouty-britches. This is for Cordy,” Lorne said.
“I just don’t want any portals opening up around here. I’ve had enough of that crap,” Gunn commented.
“Sorry, Lorne,” Fred apologized as she passed the demon. “We really have had a lot of that crap.”
“Yeah, well, my parade is rain-proof, baby doll,” Lorne assured her. “My first reading since I got my head drilled, and I find the spell that’s going to bring our little Cordy right back to us. Lo-lath ch-owrng ne brunn.”
“Kaya-no-m’tek,” Fred replied.
The doors to the front of the Hyperion opened and Wesley walked in confused.
“Did I miss the spell? Did English go away?”
“No, it’s Pylean. I said: ‘I may be prepared to shout a joyful chant,’” Lorne explained.
“And I said: ‘May your words please the gods,’” Fred added shyly.
Wesley stepped closer to her and whispered, “Are you all right? Did you . . .?”
“It’s done,” she replied nervously.
“Did I miss anything? What’s with the designs on the floor?” Cordelia asked as she came down the stairs.
“Hopefully it comes up better than red paint,” Angel replied.
Spike leaned against the reception desk watching the interaction with disembodied interest. He didn’t feel quite grounded yet. He was zoning out when a heated argument from the manager’s office caught his attention. He didn’t remember seeing Wesley go in there.
“What about Fred?” Wesley asked.
“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” Gunn shot back. “She’s pretty brainy too. Maybe you two are kindred souls. Maybe that’s why she went to you for help in getting revenge on that Professor. Killing takes brains.”
“I did what you weren’t prepared to do,” Wesley retorted.
“You have no idea what I’ve – what I would do for her,” Gunn challenged.
“Is there some reason I should need to know?” Wesley asked derisively.
“You think I can’t smell this a mile off? You think I don’t know why you keep coming back here?” Gunn asked.
“Because you keep needing my help.”
“I’m going to say this once: you make a move on Fred and I’m going to put you down hard.”
“I’m glad to see you have such faith in your relationship,” Wesley taunted.
“Keep pushing, English,” Gunn warned.
“Do you think you could get out of my way,” Wesley said casually as he made to push past the vampire hunter.
I don’t know what --” Gunn started to say as he stepped in his way.
“Not all of us have muscle to fall back on,” Wesley said and began to walk away.
“What happened to you, man?”
“I had my throat cut and all my friends abandoned me,” Wesley replied.
A minute later, he walked past Spike who shrank away from him. There was something about the former Watcher that set Spike on edge.
**************************
As Lorne performed the spell, the group sat around the symbol on the floor holding hands. Lit candles were in front of them.
“Okay, eyes on the bottle,” Lorne instructed. “We come in supplication and hope. Bring her back.”
The bottle started to move. It wobbled around the center of the circle. Suddenly, a magical amber light streamed out of the bottle, directed at each person. When the light faded, the bottled fell over and spun around.
“What’s going on?” Cordelia asked perplexed.
“I feel a little . . .” Lorne slurred as he crawled away.
Everyone seemed a little disoriented. They each crawled away from the circle. Lorne crawled behind the counter and passed out.
“What’s happening to us?” Gunn asked.
Angel went outside. Spike crawled up the staircase and then stuck his head through the posts to look over the edge. “This is really high,” Spike said to himself. “Like Mount Everest. How would I know how high Mount Everest is? Have I climbed Mount Everest?”
Fred started to seriously consider a houseplant. “This is important. It’s so beautiful.” Suddenly, her stomach churned and she vomited into the plant. Behind her, Gunn practiced martial arts moves.
Wesley still sat in his place in the circle. “We’ll just see if there are any side effects,” he giggled.
Cordelia got to her feet and looked around in a daze. “What’s happening? We can’t just . . . we have to . . . No!” She smashed the bottle with her foot. That seemed to make the buzz go away for everyone.
“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” Cordelia demanded.
“What’s your name?” Wesley asked as he struggled to stand.
“Cordelia Chase, dumbass. And if this is some sort of sophomore hazing prank where I get doped up and left with a bunch of proto-losers, then my parents are going to be suing the entire population of Sunnydale. Comprende?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Gunn asked.
“It’s called kidnapping a minor, hair-club-for-men. And if you think for a second that I’m going to put up with this, well, you don’t know Cordelia --” She became distracted when the door opened and Angel walked back in. “Cordelia . . . salty goodness.”
Wesley threw his arms wide. “ALL RIGHT! Hang on. You’re Cordelia Chase, you’re a high school student, and you live in Sunnydale?”
“Right,” Cordelia nodded.
Wesley turned to Gunn. “So, who are you?”
“I’m the guy that’s going to be kicking a whole mess of ass if somebody don’t tell me what’s going on,” Gunn threatened.
“What do they call you for short?” Cordelia asked.
“Does anyone here recognize anyone?” Wesley asked.
Angel watched everyone guardedly as he crouched down, hugging his chest.
Fred raised her hand. “Um, I’m Fred Burkle. I go to school in San Antonio.”
“Oh, we’re both in school. Gosh, let’s be best friends so I can lose all my cool ones,” Cordelia said snidely.
“There’s no need to be snippety, Miss,” Wesley spoke up.
“This is a clarion call for snippety, Princess Charles,” Cordelia shot back.
“It’s Wesley, thank you,” he corrected. “Wyndham-Pryce.” He grabbed the lapels of his jacket and stood proudly. “I am from the Watcher’s Academy in southern Hampshire. In fact, I happen to be head boy.”
“Gee, I wonder how you earned that nickname,” Cordelia snarked.
“A lot of effort, I don’t mind saying,” Wesley replied.
“I don’t see how you could have been head boy. I was the first in my class at the University,” Spike said.
They all turned to see a young man with shocking white hair, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans which seemed to be out of place with the upper-crust English accent.
“Gunn.”
Wesley panicked and ducked, sending Spike into a fit of laughter. “Where?”
“Me,” Gunn said with ill-disguised annoyance. “That’s my name – the short version anyway.”
“Ah,” Wesley acknowledged. “What school do you attend?”
Gunn rolled his eyes. He was starting to like the blonde guy with the upper-crust accent more and more.
Cordelia scoffed and walked up to Angel. “So, we’ve heard from the socially handi-capable. What’s your story?”
“Mad,” Angel said as he got to his feet. “You’re all mad. These clothes, your speech, this place.” He tilted his head and looked at the group quizzically. “What land is this?”
“What land is it supposed to be?” Gunn asked.
“Yes, where do you hail from, friend?” Wesley inquired.
Angel glowered at the Englishman. “I’m not your friend, you English pig. We never wanted you in Ireland. We don’t want you now.”
“You’re Irish?” Gunn asked.
“You don’t sound Irish,” Cordelia interjected.
“For most certain, I sound exactly --” Angel stopped when he heard his tone and felt his throat. “Something’s wrong with my voice.”
“What’s your name?” Spike asked in his upper-crust accent.
“Liam,” Angel replied in a squeak. It still didn’t sound right. There was definitely something wrong with his voice. Why was the blonde man with the t-shirt and jeans looking at him strangely? “Who are you?”
“William,” Spike replied.
“Great, we’ve all got names,” Cordelia harrumphed and headed for the door. “Bye, now.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick, Miss Chase, to leave. Clearly, we’re all victims of some nefarious scheme.”
Angel sat on the stairs across the distance from Spike. Spike watched intently as Angel felt his throat again while repeating his own name.
“I’ll lay odds that door is bolted shut,” Wesley said. “And who knows what peril lies outside it. Before we do anything, I suggest we gather as much information as we can.”
“And I suggest we gather some cops,” Cordelia shot back.
“Yo, I don’t want no heat near me,” Gunn objected.
“I don’t think we should call the police anyhow. I mean, they’re probably involved,” Fred said.
“In what?” Gunn asked.
“Don’t you all think this is some kind of government conspiracy? ’Cause my friend, Levon, says the government’s always taking kids and experimenting on them. Did anybody else have to take a personality disorder test recently? They ask you about politics and your bowel movements and if you want to be a florist --”
“OKAY,” Cordelia cut in on Fred’s rant. “We’ve heard from Scarlet O’Please-Shut-Me-Up. Does anyone sane have a theory?”
“There are conspiracies and stuff,” Fred said defensively. “You don’t even know . . .”
“I got no problem with that idea,” Gunn agreed.
“The important thing is to start with the facts. We’re all from different cities; we’re all of an age . . .”
“Judging from the amount of hair on your face, we’ve all been unconscious for at least a month,” Spike added which caused Wesley to run his hand over his face to check.
However, when Cordelia checked the length of her own hair, she panicked. “Oh God, oh God, my hair, my hair.” Suddenly, the dam burst with a flood of tears. “The government gave me bad hair.”
“No, no, it’s nice,” Fred assured her.
“Yes, it’s just the thing,” Wesley agreed.
“Are you sure?” Cordelia whined.
“It’s . . . eh . . . very attractive. But a clue! Perhaps the whole point of this is experiment is hair!” Wesley said.
“I vote he’s not in charge,” Gunn surmised.
“It’s the devil,” Angel spoke up. “It’s the devil.”
“My hair?” Cordelia cried.
“My father said I was a sinner, that I’d come to a bad end. Now I’ve come to Hell,” Angel replied.
“Well, Hell’s a lot nicer than my place,” Gunn commented.
“Maybe I can find a way out of here and get back home to ask Cecily to marry me if she hasn’t already been nabbed up by Reginald,” Spike announced to the room.
“It appears to be some sort of hotel,” Wesley said, stating the obvious.
“Maybe it’s Motel Hell,” Fred giggled.
“Well, let’s get the lay of the place,” Wesley suggested.
“Don’t give me orders. I run my own crew,” Gunn said.
“I’m sure your seafaring adventures are very interesting, but I have experience of things you couldn’t imagine. I’m not head boy for nothing,” Wesley said defensively.
Gunn stepped into Wesley’s personal space menacingly. “You’re about to be headless boy if you don’t get out of my face.”
Spike had tuned out the argument between Wesley and Gunn. It was starting to get old. He looked over at Angel across the distance of the entryway. The dark-haired man was still trying to work out whether he was evil and in Hell or not. For some reason, he was drawn to him. Fred’s scream broke through his thoughts.
“All right!” Wesley said. “Nobody scream or touch my arms.”
“Well, I think I found another clue,” Fred called out.
“She’s not wrong,” Gunn agreed.
Wesley, Cordelia, Angel and Spike walked around the reception desk.
“Okay, this is even less funny. What the hell is that?” Cordelia asked.
They all looked at Lorne passed out on the floor behind the desk.
“I knew it,” Angel said. “It’s the devil.”
Fred tilted her head as she studied the man with the horns. “Why is the devil sleepy?”
“Let’s get him up,” Wesley suggested.
“And then do what with him?” Spike asked.
“William, help me get him up. We’ll tie him up and then when he wakes up, we’ll ask him why he brought us all here,” Wesley said.
Spike helped Wesley get the demon up off the floor and onto the round settee. Wesley disappeared into the office and came back with duct tape. The others watched as he proceeded to duct-tape Lorne to the settee.
“I say we cut his head off,” Gunn recommended.
“He may have information we need,” Wesley insisted. “When he wakes up--”
“When he wakes up, we don’t even know if this tape is going to hold him. I say we cut his damn head off,” Gunn countered.
“Thank you very much, Marie Antoinette,” Wesley grumbled to himself.
“What did you call me?” Gunn demanded.
“Hey! Hey, you two want to stop the homo-erotic buddy-cop session long enough to explain this,” Cordelia said. “Wooden stakes . . . a guy with horns. And neither of you seems that surprised when things just keep getting weirder.”
On the other side of the room, Angel and Spike found the weapons cabinet. They opened it and looked inside.
“All right!” Wesley said as he slashed his arm through the air in an overly dramatic fashion. “I’m going to let you all in on something you may have trouble comprehending. I assure you that however --”
“Vampires are real,” Gunn cut in.
That got Angel and Spike’s attention. They mirrored each other as they turned around to look at Gunn and Wesley facing off in the middle of the room.
“I was telling!” Wesley yelled.
Gunn scoffed. “Vampires are all over L.A., man. I’ve been fighting them my whole life.”
Angel’s eyes shifted to the demon duct taped to the settee. “That creature’s a vampire?”
“No, I ain’t never seen nothin’ like that,” Gunn gestured to the demon.
“I have,” Wesley said as he raised his hand. “Oh. It’s . . . a demon. Probably of the Karathmama-nyuhg family. You see? Some of us have slightly broader experience--”
“How do you kill it?” Gunn asked.
“Well, I know this breed is nocturnal and feeds on roots or possibly human effluvia, and, uh, it’s a horned race --”
“So, you don’t know anything then,” Spike said. He looked at Angel. “Why does he act like he’s the one in charge?”
“I’m going to get me one of those axes,” Gunn said, momentarily distracted by the open weapons cabinet.
“Hold on,” Wesley interjected.
“Hey, don’t matter what it is. If it looks wrong, it dies.”
When Gunn walked away, Wesley grabbed his arm to stop him. “Not until we find out --” Gunn grabbed his neck from behind. “Oh, quit it!” In retaliation, Wesley reached back and grabbed Gunn’s ear.
“Ow, get off my--”
“Watch the arm! Watch the arm!” Wesley cried.
“Shouldn’t we stop them?” Spike inquired.
“It’s about time the English got what’s comin’ to ’em. I’m rooting for the slave,” Angel replied.
“Oi!” Spike exclaimed.
Cordelia stepped in to break up the fight between Gunn and Wesley. Before Spike could throw a punch at Angel for the ‘English’ remark, Cordelia yelled, “Enough! If head cheese here has a theory, then let’s hear it.”
“There are stories at the Watcher’s Academy of a test. A secret gauntlet which only the most cunning can survive,” Wesley explained in a holier-than-thou tone. “You’re locked in a house with a vicious, deadly vampire, and you have to kill him before he kills you. It’s been done in the past with slayers.”
“Slayer?” Fred asked. “The band?”
“No, it – The point is . . . this could be a test – the weapons, the maze-like locale, the innocent civilians, and the mysterious Karathmama-nyuhg demon. This is a test!”
“I ain’t a civilian,” Gunn protested. “I’ve been killing vamps since I was twelve.”
“Which only supports my theory,” Wesley said. “You must be here in an advisory capacity.”
“I think I’m here in a ‘chop-that-green-bitch’s-head-off’ capacity, and I don’t give a damn about no test,” Gunn countered.
“Are you always this grouchy?” Fred asked him.
“Only when I wake up with a bunch of insane white folks trying to tell me what to do,” Gunn replied. “The day I take orders from guys like you is the – day I -- not even going to happen.”
“Oh, please! Keep explaining why we’re not walking out that door,” Cordelia said sarcastically.
“Because they did something to us,” Angel said, nodding his head as if in agreement with himself. “They changed us.”
Cordelia’s hands flew to her head. “You mean this is about my hair?”
“I sort of see his point, even if he does hate the English,” Spike chimed in. “You don’t look seventeen. Maybe time got pushed forward, like we missed a lot of years.”
Everyone looked at themselves and each other, searching for clues in that area. Wesley tested his bicep. Cordelia felt her breasts.
“Well, I have filled out even more,” Cordelia declared.
“And,” Fred examined her own cleavage before crossing her arms over her chest shamefully. “I apparently ain’t gonna.”
“I feel cold . . . inside,” Angel said.
“I feel strange as well,” Spike said.
Cordelia threw her hands in the air with a cry of frustration. “This is so unfair! What about prom?!”
“Could be that demon put a whammy on us,” Gunn suggested.
“So, you think if we kill this vampire, they’ll take off the spell whammy and we can go back to being ourselves?” Fred asked.
“And never see each other again?” Cordelia added.
“I believe we can all just go about our business,” Wesley confirmed.
“And never see each other again?” Cordelia repeated.
“Great. So, we go vamp-hunting,” Gunn said as he went to the weapons cabinet to select an axe. “This place looks pretty big. I say three groups.”
“I’ll go with you. You seem to know what you’re doing, unlike Princess Charles and Daisy Mae over there,” Cordelia said as she joined him. She grabbed a stake for herself while Spike and Angel chose swords.
“We’ll look downstairs, but remember,” Wesley said. “If you find the vampire, it is a vicious animal. Just try to draw it toward us. Don’t worry. We’ll win this day, I assure you.”
“We’ll start at the top floor and Liam and William can start on the first floor of rooms. We’ll meet somewhere in the middle,” Gunn suggested.
**************************
Spike and Angel made it to the third floor sometime later. They hadn’t seen Gunn and Cordelia yet, nor their quarry.
“There seem to be a lot of rooms in this place,” Spike observed.
“Yeah, maybe we should wait and see if the others found anything,” Angel said as he entered another bedroom and sat on the bed. Spike sat next to him.
“We really are lost, aren’t we?” Spike asked. “My mother must be worried that I haven’t shown up for supper yet.”
Angel sighed. “I tell you, I get through this, I’m going to have a great cup of ale. I don’t care what father says it does to you.”
“A nice port doesn’t sound bad at all,” Spike agreed.
Silence descended on the room then. They both examined their surroundings and surreptitiously glanced at each other.
**************************
Wesley and Fred had checked the basement and were currently skulking around the kitchen. Wesley had a normal-sized stake while Fred carried a bat that was fashioned into one.
“I just don’t think we should be rulin’ out the idea of aliens,” Fred was saying. “I mean, he is a greenish sort of fella, and his being asleep all that time. Think about it a minute.” She stopped walking and turned to Wesley. “They could have been doing Heaven-knows-what. I can just see myself lying on the table – no clothes, no will – while they probed and explored and did whatever they wanted to my naked, helpless body.” That image caused Wesley’s dagger to shoot out of his forearm holster. Ignoring it, she continued, “It’s horrible.”
“Horrible,” Wesley agreed with a squeak. He cleared his throat. “Yes, but I assure you, this is demonic work. And they’re not nearly as exploratory as – Don’t be afraid. We’ll not give up probe – I mean, hope.”
**************************
Back upstairs in the bedroom, Spike and Angel still remained on the bed.
“I feel some sort of draw to you,” Spike admitted. “I mean you clearly detest Englishmen, but I think there is something between us. I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“I feel something towards you too,” Angel admitted as he moved closer to his companion.
“Maybe we should take some time now before the others show up and explo--”
Angel’s lips cut off his words. The moment they touched it was as if a missing piece had fallen into place. At first, Spike was stunned by the kiss. Then, he felt a jolt of electricity rush to his groin. He moaned as Angel pushed him back to lie on the bed and covered him. Angel took advantage of the moan and slipped his tongue inside to tease Spike’s. Spike growled at Angel’s boldness.
Angel heard the sound, broke the kiss and pulled away slightly. “Did you just growl at me?”
“It must be my stomach. I have no idea when I last ate,” Spike replied.
“Are you hungry?” Angel asked.
“I feel like I could eat a horse.” The thought of how hungry he was made Spike’s stomach actually hurt. “God, let me up.”
“Why what’s wrong?” Angel asked confused by the hot-and-cold signals he was getting. Not two seconds after he rolled off Spike, the blonde ran to the bathroom, slammed the door and dry-heaved into the toilet.
Angel went to the door and knocked on the panel. “Everything okay in there?”
“Fine!” Spike said through the door.
He stood up, leaned on the sink and looked up. There was nothing there. He couldn’t see his reflection. He started to silently panic. Where was his reflection? Were they trick mirrors? Was everyone else like this?
“Liam, come here!”
Angel opened the door and walked in. Spike gestured to the mirror. Angel’s jaw dropped. Spike wasn’t showing up in the mirror. Then again, his reflection wasn’t there either.
“We’re invisible!” Spike cried.
“No, we’re not. I can see you!” Angel said. He reached out and grabbed Spike’s shoulder and ran his hands along his chest. “I can feel you too.”
“That’s great and all ponce, but we have no reflection! Why don’t we have a bloody reflection?!”
Angel took a step back. “Your accent changed. You lost that upper-class dialect.”
“No it didn’t, pillock.” Spike thought about it for a moment. “Soddin’, bollocks, bint, pillock, ponce, bloody. Where the hell was I born, the East End?”
Angel ignored Spike’s last comment in favor of the mystery of his missing reflection. He waved his hand at the mirror. Nothing was there. His was starting to get really worried. What did it mean that neither he nor Spike had a reflection? Suddenly, his face changed and the motion of the bones shifting scared him. He turned to look at Spike. “What happened?”
Upon first sight, Spike jumped back and clung to the free-standing towel cabinet. “What happened to your face?”
Angel saw Spike’s terrified expression. “What do you mean?” He reached up and felt his bumpy forehead and then his fangs, accidentally pricking his finger. He let out a small gasp of pain and sucked his sore finger. He tried to look in the mirror again, but nothing reflected back. As suddenly as it appeared, his vampire visage receded to his human guise.
Not to be outdone, Spike found his spine again and stood in front of Angel. “Let me try it.” He concentrated hard and, after several minutes, felt the bones shift in his face. He turned his yellow eyes on Angel. “How do I look?”
“You’re not hideously ugly,” Angel affirmed.
They each took turns exercising their vamping ability. First, Angel would shift back and forth and then Spike would do it. For a few moments they changed back and forth at a rapid pace as if they were racing each other to a finish line.
Spike leaned back against the wall, panting. “That takes a lot out of you.”
Angel looked panic-stricken. “You know what this means don’t you?”
“That we have super-cool powers?” Spike replied casually.
“We’re the vampires! They’re going to kill us,” Angel nearly shrieked.
**************************
Hyperion Hotel, Lobby
Wesley was in the lobby inspecting Lorne, who was still passed out. Cordelia and Gunn came down one flight of stairs while Angel and Spike came down the opposite flight.
“Any luck?” Wesley asked.
“No,” Cordelia replied with a yawn.
“We saw no vampires of any kind anywhere,” Angel and Spike added in unison.
“Did you check every room?”
“Only the ones that wanted turn-down service,” Cordelia replied sarcastically. She sat on the couch to rest her aching feet. “There are five floors. My feet hurt. You finish.”
“It’s a waste of time,” Gunn said.
“I agree,” Angel said as he and Spike tried to slyly back away towards the door.
“There’s nothing here,” Spike said.
“This place is evil, and I think we,” Angel gestured between Spike and himself, “should leave now, because of evil.”
Wesley rushed after Angel. “Don’t be a fool.”
Spike saw the former Watcher advance on him. He panicked and ran out the door.
Angel saw the quick, almost-comical departure and tossed a “Good luck, all!” over his shoulder before he followed Spike.
Absentmindedly polishing his axe, Gunn glared at Wesley. “So, we’re all locked in, huh?”
“Excuse me, can we get back to the horrible spell that changed my hair!” Cordelia said.
“Do you think they’re okay out there?” Fred asked worriedly. “What if something’s out there eating them?”
“If something’s eating them, at least they ain’t as bored as me,” Gunn replied sardonically.
“Joke all you like,” Wesley said. “Liam and William may be facing horrors they’ve never even imagined right now.”
**************************
Spike and Angel ran through the garden to the street. They were about to cross it when a horn blared. They both grabbed each other like a safety line and stepped back onto the sidewalk. This strange world had paved streets and shiny beings with wheels. They squinted at the bright lights. It was like something out of a Bradbury novel.
“What the bloody hell kind of dimension is this?” Spike asked as he watched the cars and trucks speed by.
“I don’t know. Let’s get out of here,” Angel suggested as he tugged Spike back by his shirt.
They ran back towards the hotel through the garden. He shoved Spike inside the hotel first and then followed, slamming the door behind him.
“Liam! William!” Fred acknowledged.
“Demons?!” Angel panicked.
“Really?” Wesley turned to Gunn and gloated, “Told you.” Gunn stood up with his axe ready. “How many?”
“Hundreds, screaming,” Spike panted.
Fred took shelter behind a pillar. “Will they try to get in?”
“Don’t think they saw us,” Spike replied.
“I guess you really better solve this puzzle,” Fred said, addressing Wesley.
“Why type of demons would you say they were?” Wesley asked.
“Shiny!” Angel squeaked.
“So, does that mean we got to check the rest of the rooms? ’Cause I’m bored just saying it,” Gunn said.
“Wouldn’t the vampire be comin’ after us anyhow? Aren’t we vittles?” Fred asked.
“And he should be starving, by rule. But I also happen to think that further searching would be pointless. I think the Council has been far cleverer than I imagined,” Wesley replied.
“Ooh. How?”
“Yes, give us another rousing speech again,” Gunn said mockingly.
“Six people, each unknown to each other, far from home, trapped together at night – I submit that the blood-sucking fiend may be closer than we dared suspect. That it may be --”
“We’ll search the rooms,” Spike volunteered all-too-quickly.
“I was getting to the good part!” Wesley whined.
“We can’t just wait for the vampire to appear. So, William and I will flush him out,” Angel said.
Wesley jumped up and down excitedly as he rushed to say, “It may be one of us!”
Cordelia didn’t look convinced. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Would that I were, Miss Chase, but the simple fact is . . . the fiend has been under our noses the entire time, waiting for the moment to . . .” As he explained his theory, Wesley took a wooden cross out of his breast pocket and shoved it in Gunn’s face. “Strike!”
Almost by reflex, Gunn punched Wesley in the face and knocked him to the ground.
“See?” Angel whispered to Spike. “The English is stupid.” Addressing the room, he said, “Let’s have a different theory.”
Having heard enough digs about the English, Spike punched Angel and knocked him down. He jumped on the bigger man and tried to strangle him while simultaneously beating his head on the floor.
“Excuse me!” Wesley called out. Spike and Angel stopped as if someone had hit pause on their fight. They looked at the former Watcher. He was holding a wooden cross. “I’m not quite finished. I think it’s only fair that everybody have a turn. This cross obviously doesn’t affect me or our friend,” he gestured to Gunn, “the pugilist.”
Gunn glared at Wesley. “Oh, your ass better pray I don’t look that word up.”
Spike and Angel let go of each other and got up off the floor. Cordelia snatched the cross from Wesley and waved it around in front of herself. When nothing happened, she scoffed and tossed it to Fred. Fred scanned her body with the cross in an imitation of an airport security guard. She handed the cross to Spike who held it for five seconds and tossed it to Angel like a hot potato when his hand started to singe. Angel gripped the cross, despite the fact that it was starting to burn him. When his hand started to smoke, he put it down by his side where the others couldn’t notice.
“See. No vampires here,” Angel commented.
“We’re just like the rest of you,” Spike said.
Fred started to smell burnt flesh. “Does anyone else here--?”
“Look, the Devil’s awake,” Angel said, distracting her.
While everyone went to investigate Lorne, Angel tossed the cross over his shoulder.
“Don’t get too close,” Wesley warned.
Lorne came to with a groan. “Guys, hey, that was quite a whammy. A little trip through the transitive nightfall of diamonds, if you know what I mean. Well, I certainly don’t but --”
“He speaks madness,” Angel said in awe.
Lorne looked down at himself. “Hey, here’s a funny sidebar.” He tried to wiggle out his restraints. “I’m tied to a chair – again! What the hell’s going on?”
“We were hoping you would enlighten us, Spawn of Evil,” Wesley said.
“Oh, dear,” Lorne sighed. “I’m starting to suspect that my sure-fire hit spell closed out of town. Did anything go right? Anything at all? Did Cordy at least get her memory back?”
“Just tell us where the vampire is, fiend,” Wesley demanded. Behind him, Angel and Spike froze.
“What are you talking about? There aren’t any vampires here,” Lorne replied. Spike sighed in relief. “Well, I mean, except for our boys over there.”
“Lying devil-man,” Angel accused.
“I’m not a vampire. I’m a proper gentleman. Except for that one time upstairs,” Spike said defensively.
“Oh, like my spell made you not a vampire anymore,” Lorne scoffed. “My magic isn’t that --”
Angel cut him off by a punch to the jaw that sent Lorne and the settee spinning across the room.
“It’s not --” Spike started to say.
“He just --” Angel cut in.
“Well,” Wesley puffed out his chest in triumph. “Our mystery is solved.”
“That explains the lame-ass cover story about being Irish, too,” Gunn agreed.
“Vampires are all the same, my friend. There’s nothing human about them,” Wesley said as he tried to engage the weapons on his arms.
Gunn held his axe menacingly. “That’s right. You ain’t a person. Just dust waitin’ to happen.”
“We don’t want to hurt anyone,” Angel said.
A stake suddenly shot out of Wesley’s forearm and landed in Angel’s side. Spike stared in horror. Then, he shifted into his demon and attacked Wesley. Angel’s demon came to the forefront as he attacked Gunn. He wrestled the axe away from Gunn and threw him across the room.
Angel turned to the others in the room, still wearing the face of his demon. “You want a vampire, then? I guess we’re it. I guess I’ll start feeding on your corpses. Starting with the girls! So, who’s going to be the first course? Hard to choose between you two --”
Cordelia popped up from behind the chair where she’d been hiding. “What do you mean ‘it’s hard’?” she asked indignantly. Then she thought about what she said and her eyes went wide. “I mean, she’s the tasty one.” She pointed at Fred. “Look at her! Half of her is neck.” Fred shrugged to hide her neck.
Suddenly, Wesley activated the sword in his forearm holster. “Miss Chase, Miss Burkle, run.”
The girls ran away while Wesley charged towards Angel with his sword. Wesley took a swing at Angel, but the dark vampire just punched him in the nose and knocked him to the ground. Angel and Spike shared a look and chased after the girls. Angel took off after Cordelia while Spike went after Fred.
Fred’s time in Pylea made her cunning in the ways of eluding the enemy. She ran down the halls and stairways until she found herself back in the lobby again with the demon and an unconscious Gunn.
“Uh, sweetie?” Lorne hedged when he saw her.
Fred gasped and tried to make herself as small as possible. “Yes?”
“Uh, can I take a minute of your time? We have a huge problem, but I can solve it,” Lorne explained.
“Why should I trust you?” Fred asked warily.
“’Cause we’re buddies, Fredikins,” Lorne said jovially. “We did a spell – it went wrong, but we can make it right. Is the bottle still there on the floor, in the circle?”
Fred peeked out of her hiding place and looked at the painted circle. “You mean those bittty bits of broken glass?”
“Damn,” Lorne cursed. “Well, we can still do it . . . maybe one at a time. You just got to untie me first.”
“I don’t know,” she said uncertainly.
“Oh, Fred,” Lorne groaned in disappointment. “Look into your heart. Am I evil?”
Fred scrutinized him while she thought it over. Aside from the horns and the green skin, he didn’t seem evil. Tentatively, she grabbed a box cutter and went over to cut him free.
“Thanks, lamb-chop,” Lorne said as he got up to find the ingredients for his concoction. He mixed the potion while Fred stood there with her eyes clenched shut and her tongue stuck out.
“Hurry up, I’m nervous,” she mumbled.
“Ok. Ok.” Lorne placed a drop of the potion on Fred’s tongue with his finger.
She cringed and shuddered at the awful taste. “Oh, Lord.”
“Well, did it work?” Lorne asked anxiously.
Behind him Gunn came to, got up off the floor with a weapon and was in mid-swing when Fred yelled, “WAIT!”
Lorne whipped around to see Gunn with his axe raised.
“Don’t kill him, Charles!” Fred said.
Gunn lowered his axe, confusion written on his face. He never told them his first name. How would this girl know it? “Why shouldn’t I?”
“You’ll see, stick out your tongue,” Fred replied.
Gunn shook his head at the absurd request, but stuck his tongue out anyway. Lorne repeated the action with Gunn. Two seconds later, the vampire hunter seemed to come back to himself. Fred ran off in search of the others. Soon, everyone was gathered in the lobby. Lorne gave a bit of the potion to each member: Wesley, Spike, Angel. When it came time for Cordelia’s turn, she made a face at the dreadful taste. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she took off running up the stairs to her room.
**************************
Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite
Spike stood at the French doors leading to the balcony. He leaned against the frame as he looked out at the nighttime L.A. skyline. Things were more confusing now than they were before Lorne’s spell. He didn’t know how Cordelia felt when she came back to herself. But, he still felt like he was in someone else’s skin. The spell did nothing for him. He remembered what happened during the spell like it was a dream.
“Spike?”
Angel’s soft voice could be heard in the darkness of the room. Spike didn’t even hear the door open and close. Spike looked down at his bare feet. The movement was the only acknowledgement Angel had that Spike heard him.
“Do you remember?” Angel asked cryptically.
“I remember a lot of things. The memory spell wasn’t for me. It was for Cordy. Shouldn’t you be asking her that question?” Spike asked with a tilt of his head in Angel’s direction, but still not looking at him.
“For one thing, Cordelia’s locked herself in her room and ignoring anyone who knocks on the door. For another, she’s not the one I’m mated to,” Angel replied.
“Funny you remember that much,” Spike scoffed.
A tick developed in Angel’s jaw at that comment. He stormed across the room and grabbed Spike’s arm, jerking the younger vampire around to face him.
“I’m not the one that cheated on my mate with my assignment,” Angel growled.
“Well, you sure as bloody hell didn’t want me around here either,” Spike shot back.
“I was doing what I had to in order to protect you. I tried so hard to protect you and look where it got us. You nearly died when Holtz shot you with that poisoned stake,” Angel said.
“You don’t have to rehash the events for me, Angel. I know how it went down. I was there. I was also there when you told me to get out once I was healed. I only did what you wanted. Like always,” Spike said angrily.
“And you thought I wanted you to get a soul? How did you come to that conclusion?” Angel asked curiously.
“Why would anyone do something for another person? Why did you feel the need to send me away and protect me from Holtz? Why does it bother you so much that I fucked Buffy?”
“Because you’re mine, damn it!” Angel yelled.
“Oh, so I’m an obligation now? If I’d known that I wouldn’t have gotten this ruddy soul at all. I’d just have flung myself off the soddin’ boat and sunk like a stone,” Spike shot back.
“Everything I did was because I love you! You fucking Buffy bothered me because I love you!” Angel yelled, oblivious to what he just admitted.
“Well, so do I, you great pillock!” Spike yelled back. “Why’d you have to be such an ass when all you had to do was tell me?”
“I just did!” Angel said.
“I know!”
“Then, why are you yelling at me?”
“I’m not! You’re yelling at me. I just raised my voice to be heard over your prattle,” Spike countered.
Angel couldn’t take anymore arguing. He suddenly tugged Spike against him and sealed his mouth over Spike’s in a passionate kiss. Spike was astonished at first, but then returned the kiss.
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