Kin of the Soul
Rated ADULT

"Graham, I am so sorry you got sucked into doing this," Xander repeated again.

"It's not your fault, Xander. I really don't mind." Graham used the broom to push a pile of cracked chicken bones out from under the bed. The broom also pushed a wide trail of slime with it. "You just have to do the jobs that come along."

"Yeah, well tyv cleanup duty is not exactly big with the fun. My guess is that you didn't go to officer school and college to clean slime." Xander scooped the mess into a dustpan and thanked god that he'd put good tile in on the third floor rooms that got the most use. As it was, the bedding was going to have to be burned. Xander made a mental note to have Cordy charge this guy more... lots more. Demon bill collecting was a touchy subject, but no one could do offended and insulted like Cordelia, and the more insulted she got, the more tribute money the demon coughed up. This guy needed to cough up a lot.

"You aren't studying construction management and practicing swordsmanship to clean slime," Graham countered. Xander leaned against the side of the stripped mattress and thought about that for a second.

He didn't generally think about the fact that he got the slimy jobs. Angel would do it if he knew it needed to be done, but Angel and housework was not only freaky but likely to lead to a large number of objects needing to be fixed. Faith was pretty much the same, and Spike would have laughed his ass off at the suggestion he touch a broom. He would have then taken the broom and broken it into a million little pieces if anyone had even suggested Cordy do the cleaning. Besides, Cordy was working her butt off even as she insisted that she was above work. Angel's new library was growing book by book, and Cordy was struggling to keep up with all the cross-referencing and the bills and the guests and the collecting of tribute and a nasty tax problem that was making her growl at Angel in ways that made Xander wonder if she didn't have a little demon blood herself. She was getting so snippy that Angel had even vetoed taking any more of Lorne's boarders for a while.

"Okay, you have a point," Xander admitted.

"This really isn't as bad as basic. Trust me; it's not nearly as bad, although the physical training is a little more demanding."

"When he's sparring, Spike sometimes forgets that humans need to breathe," Xander agreed. "And he is definitely not good on the heart. What with him jumping out from behind bushes, I nearly died about a hundred times before I graduated from high school."

Graham pulled the broom out from under the bed and leaned on the edge. "It turned you into a damn good fighter. When Riley and I first saw you fight... we thought for sure you'd had military training."

"Not so much. I was only seventeen or maybe eighteen," Xander said. He looked up and quickly quashed an urge to react as Spike crept into the room. If Graham wanted the whole experience, Xander wasn't going to get in the middle—especially not when Spike had so much fun playing with the soldier. There wasn't the hard edge like when Spike stalked Riley, but it was pretty clear that Spike considered Graham a play toy to take the edge off any boredom he might be feeling.

"Some militaries train soldiers a lot younger than we do. Several major countries let men in at seventeen or even sixteen if they have their parents' permission. Laos drafts men as young as fifteen, and when small countries get caught up in civil wars, guerilla fighters will 'recruit' fighters as young as ten or twelve." Graham made finger quotes in the air at the word 'recruit.'

"And can I just say that ignorance is my happy place because I really do not need to think about fourteen year olds fighting wars."

"You were, what, fifteen?" Graham asked.

Spike had pulled out a cigarette and had gone from looking amused to just looking aggravated. Not knowing you had an enemy at your back--or even a friendly ally who like to play with you like you were a rubber mouse at your back--that was not good. Even Xander knew that.

"Fifteen what?" Xander asked Graham. He considered letting his gaze slip up to focus on Spike, but if he did that, Spike was going to find a way to give him a wedgie, and if Angel found out, Angel was going to sit back and watch Spike give him a wedgie. Spike and Angel and even Graham were oddly united on this whole training game.

"You were fifteen when you started fighting this war against demons."

"Oh." Xander shrugged. "I didn't think of it as a war as much as a case of trying to not end up dead."

"I think that's the definition of war," Graham pointed out.

"Point."

"Exactly," Graham said. "Riley and I were both horrified at the thought of teenagers trying to fight creatures as old and powerful as Spike here." Graham poked his thumb over his shoulder. For a second, Spike was actually shocked out of reacting, but then he grabbed for Graham.

Graham rolled to the side and kicked out, aiming for Spike's middle. It wasn't a bad move... only putting any body part within arm's reach of Spike was not generally of the good. Spike's unlit cigarette fell from his mouth when Graham's foot connected with his stomach, but then Spike caught him by the ankle and twisted the foot around. The move forced Graham to flip over onto his stomach or get his leg broken, and as soon as Graham was stomach down on the floor, Spike ended the fight by sitting on him.

With one hand, Spike held Graham's ankle, and with the other, he grabbed the back of Graham's neck. Graham lay limp. "This is embarrassing. I thought I could get in at least one good hit," Graham sighed.

"Hey, it's good for my ego," Xander pointed out as he scooped more slime into his dustpan and dumped it into the trash. "I thought I was just really bad at fighting, but if the big, buff soldier guy gets his ass kicked, suddenly I'm feeling less pathetic."

"Big, buff soldier?" Spike asked, pulling Graham's leg up until Graham hissed with pain. "Careful, pet. You know vampires, they're jealous sorts."

"It was just a saying," Graham protested, his voice higher than it should be. Spike let go of his leg and patted Graham on the shoulder before he bounced up. "That hurt," Graham said softly, not even trying to get up.

"You were bloody toying with me, pretending to not see me. You got what you deserved." Spike bent over and recovered his cigarette from the floor. Spike might not smoke much anymore, but he always seemed to have one in his hand or dangling from his lips as though he was about to light it and he had just forgotten.

"I was going for a tactical advantage." Graham slowly pulled himself up, using the edge of the bed.

"How'd that work for you?" Spike asked.

"Not well."

"Right then, if we have that sorted, the priest is downstairs. Peaches called for both of ya."

Xander narrowed his eyes and glared at Spike. "If this has anything to do with gayness...." Xander let his voice trail off, but he hoped that it was pretty clear he was willing to kill the messenger on this issue.

"It if does, I promise to eat the priest, and you can get a bloody calf puller and yank Angel's head out his oversized arse," Spike assured him. "Now move your arses. I don't want to be stuck in a bloody meeting when there's fun to be had and killing to be done." Spike turned and was out of the room faster than either of the humans could answer.

"I really hope he's killing bad guys," Graham said. Sitting on the side of the bed, he massaged his knee.

"I'm pretty sure he is. Cordy would eviscerate him if he did anything too stupid. So, are you sorry you agreed to Angel's terms yet?" Xander asked. Graham had been almost too quick to agree to sever all ties with Sunnydale and the army and allow Angel to approve any of the reports he sent back to Washington describing various non-combatant demons.

"Not really. An army needs intel, and intel requires a scout," Graham answered. "And we need to get down there before Spike loses his patience and decides to eat Father Peter on the principle of it."

"Or Faith glares him to death," Xander agreed. Their clan was an odd sort of family, but they were family, and everyone except for Angel had come to the conclusion that Father Peter was a "them" and not an "us." It was kind of strange having everyone get so upset on his behalf, but Xander had to admit he was selfish enough to enjoy it.

Downstairs, everyone seemed to have gathered in the sitting room, and not only was Father Peter there, but Doyle was there with a pretty woman who had a long nose and curly blonde hair. Xander smiled as he watched Faith shift. Up until now she'd been laying on the small sofa, but now she put her feet on the ground, freeing up a place for someone to sit, and Xander really didn't have any illusions about who she was hoping would sit there. Graham was a nice looking man, a little clichéd with his dimpled chin and muscles and bright blue eyes, but cute. Xander with his new-minted gayness could admit that.

"Are we waiting for Blair?" Father Peter asked. He didn't comment at all as Xander gave him a nice long look before sitting so close to Angel that he was almost in Angel's lap. Of course, the fact that Angel was in the oversized chair and there really wasn't room also might have something to do with the near lap sitting. Angel glanced over and Xander almost thought he saw a smile.

"Blair had to go home. He has classes he needs to not fail." Angel put a hand on Xander's knee.

Looking around, Xander realized that they were all finally paired up. Faith was stiff and still awkward around Graham, but Xander really didn't have any doubts about her interest. She wasn't exactly showing it the same way, but it was there. And Graham was going out of his way to do little things like pick her up her favorite soda when he went out on a grocery run. Hopefully that was Graham being interested and not just Graham feeling guilty because he'd figured out her earlier case of sleeping with him came from a psychologically unhealthy place. If it was Graham-guilt, things were going to get weird.

Spike was sprawled out, his boots propped up on the edge of the table, and Cordy was filing her nails. But her one foot rested against Spike's thigh as she marked her territory. Spike was the one sprawling, but somehow Cordy still managed to look very queenlike as she glanced up and looked around the room with that indifference she'd been practicing since she was twelve. Of course, anyone who knew her, knew that she threw herself into fights two seconds after insisting that it was all beneath her. It was just all part of Cordy's charm.

And now he and Angel were definitely heading for couplesville. Angel's hand comfortably rested on Xander's leg and the chair was big enough for both of them, but only if they were squashed together way too close for casual friends. Xander shifted around, trying to find a more comfortable spot. This time he could see the edges of a smile pulling at the sides of Angel's mouth.

"So, what is the emergency?" Angel asked.

"And it better not be a gay emergency," Xander whispered. Angel tightened his fingers into Xander's knee. "Just saying," Xander defended himself. Angel gave an exaggerated sigh, and Spike chuckled.

"There's no gay emergency, Xander," Father Peter said. At least the priest wasn't laughing at him, which was more than he could say about Spike and Angel.

"Good, because I'm not giving up the gay," Xander said firmly. Yeah, he was being less than subtle, but he and subtle were not exactly friends.

"I had gotten that impression," Father Peter said. Xander narrowed his eyes because Father Peter was sounding suspiciously amused. It was one thing for Spike and Angel to laugh at him, but he was not taking that from a priest.

"And you aren't going to go off on hell and sin? You aren't going to pull the big silent treatment?"

Father Peter's expression turned serious. "Xander, if I only talked to people who didn't sin, I'd have a pretty limited life. I wouldn't even be able to talk to myself, because none of us is perfect. You're still welcome at church, although I would prefer it if you didn't sit in Angel's lap during the service." Xander opened his mouth, but Angel's hand tightened on his knee again. Xander harrumphed, but he closed his mouth.

"Doyle, why don't you explain what happened."

"I should go check on them," the woman with the long nose said.

"Thanks, Harry," Doyle said, and from the way he looked at the woman, Xander was guessing he wasn't the only one who was newly paired up or newly frustrated about wanting to pair up, maybe. Doyle looked at the woman like she was the last glass of water in the desert. If this was the demon-expert Harry that Blair had lustful thoughts about, Xander was guessing Blair had just lost his chance at her. For someone who had just broken up with her fiancé, she was looking at Doyle with a whole lot of semi-appropriate fondness.

"Food's in kitchen, last door in the hall behind the check-in counter," Cordy offered. "We feed all kinds of demons, so there should be something in there that Listers like." Harry nodded and left.

"We have guests?" Xander asked. He'd been fairly sure that Angel had closed the hotel due to general grumpiness.

"More like refugees," Cordelia answered. "And if we can find the idiots who chased them out of their homes, I'm charging them our top rates for every room the Listers use," she said, poking her fingernail file at Angel.

"Princess," Doyle interrupted, "the Scourge is not interested in you balancing your books."

"Like I care what they want. And that is officially a stupid name. Who calls themselves the Scourge?" Angel and Spike both looked over at her, and for a second the room was quiet. By the time Faith cleared her throat, Xander was trying really hard to not laugh. "What?" Cordelia asked. She looked from Angel to Spike and then she rolled her eyes. "Oh please, that was in your tacky days. Besides, Darla must have picked the name. All style, no substance."

"I take it I'm missing something?" Graham looked around.

"Don't you know it," Faith offered. "These two were one-half of the Scourge of Europe back when they were down with their bad selves. I'm just wondering, who are these guys who've picked up the name?"

"They're bad news," Doyle said seriously. "Last time I ran into them... it wasn't pretty." Doyle leaned forward and hung his head.

"That wasn't your fault." Father Peter reached over and rested a comforting hand on Doyle's back.

"No, who should I blame? I refused to help people because I could pass for human, because I was too freaked out about finding out about my demon blood."

"None of us is perfect, and if you had gotten involved, you probably would have died, too." Father Peter looked around the room at all of them, and Xander noticed that the tension had risen dramatically. Spike was always the best barometer for how the group was feeling, and he was deadly still. "They're fanatics. They believe that all humans and part-human demons should die."

"Hate to point this out, mate, but most full demons feel that way," Spike offered, but he still had that unnatural calm that made Xander itch to get a weapon in his hands.

"This isn't some demon who just cuts the head off any half-breed he finds." Doyle looked up, and Xander could see the fear and the guilt across the man's face. It was a little freaky. "They're an army of pureblooded demons. They have a big hate-on for us mixed heritage types. Very into pedigree. They hunt us down like animals."

"So, we hunt them back," Cordelia said. She frowned and looked over at Angel for some sort of agreement, but Xander could feel how inhumanly still Angel had gone. "Demons make trouble, and we kill them. That's the deal, right?" When Angel didn't answer, Cordelia sat up a little straighter.

Faith pulled out her knife in a not-so-subtle indicator of where she was on the issue. "I'm five by five with the killing plan. Those families who came running here for sanctuary—they have kids. I'll be damned if I let some fucking army hunt down kids in our city."

"It's not that easy." Doyle looked around. "They're fanatics. Nothing you do will stop them. If you kill a hundred of them, they'll just call for more. They'll die for their cause. They're death." Doyle stopped, and Xander could feel the cold run down his back. He didn't care how big a demon got, a demon was still just a demon. It had a weakness. But an army of fanatic demons was sounding slightly more freaksome.

Obviously, Xander wasn't the only one concerned. Angel's hand tightened on Xander's leg until Xander poked him with an elbow. Then Angel cringed and eased up on the squeezing. Everyone was looking at Angel, and for the first time, Xander actually pitied the vamp. He would not want to be the one with this bomb dropped in his lap.

Angel nodded thoughtfully. "We need to know what they're up to. If this is an organized army, it's something we haven't fought before. I could go in undercover—"

"You're right 'round the twist there, aren't you?" Spike demanded. "Did you miss the part where they hate us?"

"I can tell them that I want to be like them, that I hate half-breeds," Angel snarled back, and that was an actual snarl. "I'll get them to give me information."

"They won't tell you anything because you are a half-breed." Spike leaped to his feet. "You even fucking try this shite, and I'll knock you tits over arse." Angel stood, his body angled for battle.

Faith was the next one up. "Hey, let's just chill." Faith raised her hands, but both vampires were pretty much ignoring her.

"Have you forgotten who's the better vampire, here?" Angel demanded as he took a predatory step toward Spike.

"I bloody know who's the stupid vampire here if you try this."

Angel reached out and grabbed for Spike's throat. Xander jumped up and grabbed at Angel's shirt, pulling him back. Or trying to pull him back, anyway. Angel was not big with going along on that plan and Xander felt a little bit like that cartoon of the little tiny dog playing tug of war with the great big dog—only the big dog didn't notice that the little dog was even there.

Then Cordelia was on her feet, looking at them without getting involved, but weirdly, it was Graham who actually put his hand between the two snarling vampire faces. For half a second, Xander really thought one of them was going to eat Graham, which would probably not be all that helpful. Spike would lose his toy, and Angel would be guilting for about a century.

"What?" Angel snapped. Dropping Spike, he backed up a step. Before Xander realized Angel had even moved, he found himself pulled close to Angel's side—not that he minded.

Graham was strangely calm in the face of all the growling. "This is an organized army, right? We need intel, information on targets, weapons, leadership—right?"

"Sounds about right," Spike answered when Angel just kept glaring.

"You have access to those things. Riley would come in a second if you called for backup." Graham looked from Angel to Spike and back, clearly waiting.

"It's a lot better than some suicide plan," Cordelia agreed after a few long seconds of silence.

Faith was the next to jump in. "As long as I'm in on the final beat-down, I don't mind having the soldier boys do a little of the footwork for us."

Angel and Spike stared at each other. "Peaches?" Spike asked.

Angel's eyes narrowed. "Call me that again, and you'll be healing for a week," Angel threatened him. Spike was weird though, because the threat just made him smile. "Call Finn. If the Scourge has an army, we'll answer with an army of our own."

"I'm on it," Graham agreed, taking a quick step toward the door.

"No!" Angel said the word sharply enough to stop Graham in his tracks. "Xander can call."

Xander blinked in surprise. Angel had been holding on tightly, but now Angel let go and gave him a small push. "Doyle can give you any details. Riley's people can stay at the hotel as long as they know that the Lister refugees are under my protection. Got it?"

"Um, got it," Xander agreed. "Hey, maybe I should go call now. Graham, you can give me the number," Xander said with false cheerfulness. The room had gotten way too cranky, and it was probably good for all humans to get out of the path of cranky vampires.

"Cordelia can look up Finn's number," Angel interrupted. "Graham and I can go over some tactical details. Faith, why don't you walk Father Peter home?"

Xander traded half panicked looks with Cordelia and Faith. He was hoping at least one of the girls would back him up about being a little freaked out about leaving Graham behind. Sticking yourself in the middle of a Spike and Angel smack-down was up there with castrating yourself with a melon baller, so Xander hadn't actually tried it, but he was guessing it was not good. However, neither of the girls looked interested in getting involved.

"You got it, A. So, Father Peter, just to let you know, if you lecture me, I might drop you in a gutter," Faith warned him as she started toward the door.

Father Peter looked a little confused as he stood up. "I don't actually lecture people. I talk to people who ask me for my opinions on the scripture."

"Oh." Faith frowned at Angel for a second. "Just don't go looking for me to ask. Come on, let's get you home."

Cordelia pulled on Doyle's arm. "We need to call Riley, and if Buffy's crew is staying here, they're paying full rates. This is not a flop house. Oh, and the Listers are in our best rooms, so the Army will have to make do with the fourth floor. I wonder if we can get them to pay for their rooms and the Listers'..." Cordelia headed out the door, towing Doyle behind her.

"Wait... who are we calling?" Doyle was asking her as she dragged him out.

"Angel," Xander started to say.

Angel turned around, his brown eyes looking down at Xander. Slowly, Angel brought his hand up and cupped the side of Xander's face. "A mhuirnín," he said softly, "go call Buffy and Riley."

For a second, Xander thought about arguing or pointing out that Graham hadn't meant to get in the middle or defending the guy. Then Xander thought about how it had felt when Buffy defended him, and that was not a good feeling. It was like someone didn't trust you enough to not get your ass kicked by the school bully. True, they weren't in school, and Spike was way better at bullying than Larry had ever dreamed of being, but... Xander glanced over at Graham... he was kinda big enough to take care of his own problems. It wasn't like they were going to eat him. Probably. Almost certainly.

"I am not explaining this to Buffy," Xander settled for saying. "You know how she is about defending demons, and Giles has a stick the size of a baseball bat up there when people mention good demons. If either one of them is on the phone, I'm going to make you talk to them," Xander settled on saying.

Angel slowly smiled. "You can handle one little slayer and her watcher," he said without much sympathy. "Go on."

Xander headed out of the room shaking his head. "I'm not cleaning up after her, either. You'd better be prepared to have a maid service in." Out in the hallway, Xander chewed his lip and watched Angel close the door. Yep, he had been officially uninvited to that little meeting, which usually meant Angel was doing something vampy that Xander didn't want to see... or that Angel thought Xander didn't want to see. Vampires—they were giant pains in the ass.

Chapter Twenty

Angel closed the door. If the Sunnydale clan were coming, they had to get certain loyalties settled, and that was not something he wanted Xander to witness. When he turned around, Graham had gone to parade rest. He smelled of anxiety, but not fear. And that was not necessarily a good thing. If Graham was afraid, Angel could get a little truth easily, but a confident Graham might be a little too cautious with his words.

Angel went back to the chair and sat, the lingering remnants of Xander's heat soaking into his leg. Spike looked at him, and Angel gave a nod so small that a human couldn't have seen it.

"If I overstepped my bounds, I apologize. I didn't mean to get in the middle."

"Sure you did, mate. Your hand didn't just float up in front of my face on its own." Spike sounded friendly as he slowly circled, and now Graham had the good sense to smell of fear.

"I should have waited. I was wrong." Graham was stiff, his body as still as a human could get.

"You don't actually believe that," Angel said. "You believe that bringing Finn's unit here is the best chance to find and defeat the Scourge."

This time, Graham didn't answer.

"That right?" Spike asked, giving Graham's shoulder a push. Graham rocked forward, but he moved back into his military stance.

"Yes, I do. If they're an army, Riley has the experience to deal with armies. But I also know that you have a lot more experience with demons, so if you tell me I'm wrong, I'll believe you."

For several minutes, Angel didn't comment on that. He watched while Spike stalked the room, his predatory attention never straying from Graham. With every passing minute, Graham's scent turned more and more sharp with the spiced smell of fear, but he continued to stand silent.

The chair had cooled, Xander's heat had finally dissipated, and Angel stood. Graham's eyes flicked toward him before returning to that same straight-ahead gaze that Angel had seen in so many army movies Xander had inflicted on him. The pose might be called 'at ease,' but there was no ease in this room.

Angel moved to a point in front and just to the side of Graham. It meant that Graham could see him out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn't focus on him. The position was intended to unsettle Graham, and from the sharp burst of fear in the air, it had worked.

"Why do you want to call in the Sunnydale group?" Angel asked, leaning in so close that he could feel the heat of Graham's body.

"I think Riley is trained to deal with an enemy organized into an army," Graham's voice was steady, but the tone betrayed his fear. Angel traded looks with Spike. Spike moved in behind Graham, his hand coming up to caress the side of Graham's neck in a gesture that Xander would have called affectionate. Angel knew better—it was a possessive gesture, one that a minion would have taken as a reminder that he owed his life and his allegiance to the master of the clan. But Graham wasn't a minion, and that was part of the problem. Angel still wasn't entirely sure where Graham's loyalties lay, and if Buffy and Riley were coming here, he needed to know.

"Any other reason?" Angel asked. Spike's fingers tightened slightly on Graham's neck. Now Angel could see islands of white around each of Spike's painted black nails as Graham's flesh yielded to him.

"No." Graham's eyes darted over to Angel again, and this time there seemed to be an honest confusion in that expression. Then Graham turned his eyes back to the front.

Turning his back, Angel walked to the ornate fireplace and stared at the wood surround. Xander had stripped the layers of paint and stain, exposing the bare wood with all the intricate carvings and scroll things. Angel ran his hand over the warm wood. "It does seem like the military and a vampire clan run by pretty similar rules. You obey the commanders, do your job, and show loyalty." Angel considered that for a moment. "Well, obeying and doing the job are the same. Some vampires are more loyal than others."

Angel could hear Spike scenting Graham loudly enough that even Graham with his human hearing had to be aware.

"But if this were a true vampire clan, and a minion from another clan came to me, asking to be part of my clan, I would make some assumptions."

"Like the git got tossed out on his ear and he needs some place to hide before he gets staked," Spike offered.

Angel shrugged and then turned around. "Maybe. Maybe I would assume that his clan leader had done something monumentally stupid and he didn't want to be around for the fallout. Maybe I would think that this new minion was still loyal to his old clan, and he was coming to spy. I might think a lot of things."

"I'd just bloody think the git had no loyalty in him, and I'd stake him," Spike offered cheerfully.

"I don't think that's the case here," Angel said as he moved back toward the middle of the room.

"Probably not," Spike agreed.

Graham swallowed several times before he spoke. "I told you, the generals in Washington wanted a source of information on demons other than the Watchers' library Giles has."

Spike let go of Graham and moved around to the front where he held his hand up, pantomiming his use of a phone. "Oi, need some intel on demons, so fax me somethin', got it?" Spike pantomimed hanging the phone up. Of course, if Spike called someone for information, that probably was how the conversation would go.

"Riley thought it would facilitate communication between the groups," Graham offered, but the scent of fear was hanging heavy in the air.

"Yet you allow every communication to go through me," Angel pointed out. "There's no more communication now than before."

Spike moved in, running a finger down Graham's cheek, and Angel could feel the shifting emotions. A part of him remembered this... remembered watching a human for every little twitch and tell that revealed its inner thoughts... remembered watching humans break. Graham was nowhere near breaking, but a sizable stress fracture was about to open up, and Angel could feel his own anticipation growing.

"So, do you think our little soldier is playing spy?" Spike asked. He had pulled his lips together into that tight smile so unique to Spike. Graham swallowed several times.

"I have from the beginning. I just never worried about it." Angel walked to a spot behind Graham. Now he could see Graham's hands. His hands were tightly clenched, something which Angel was guessing violated his military training. Breathing deeply, Angel scented the fear and the sweat and the smell of Spike's arousal. Angel ran his own hand over the curve of Graham's neck and watched as Spike's eyes yellowed. So close—Graham was so close. "I allowed you to spy," Angel whispered in Graham's ear, "because I knew you didn't have the power to harm my clan. But now you want to bring Riley into my house."

Graham started trembling. It wasn't anything that a human would notice, but Angel could see the slightest tremors in his legs. Spike did too because he moved in. Now Graham was caught between them.

"Right then," Spike said cheerfully, reaching up to wrap his fingers around the back of Graham's neck, his thumb across the front. In less than a second, Spike could snap Graham's neck, and the soldier probably knew it. "Explain what made you leave your nice safe world of soldier boys and university classes. Explain so I believe it, pet."

"I... I never spied." Graham's voice rasped. Angel wasn't sure whether Spike's thumb across his larynx or his dry mouth caused it, but words were definitely not coming easily. If Graham had broken, even if he had only suffered that first crack that opened his soul, the words would fall from him. They'd be a twisted mass of truth and lies, desperation and fear and hope. However, words would come easily. Clearly, Angel had not found the right lever.

"Convince me you aren't a spy; convince me I don't have to start planning for a war against your government," Angel urged him in a voice that he rarely used anymore. The smooth tones had lured more women to their deaths than Angel cared to remember, but to keep his clan and his Xander safe, he would use any of the many weapons he possessed.

"What? No, you don't have enemies in the government." Graham tried to turn, but Angel grabbed his arms and easily held him in place. That forced Graham to turn to Spike and make his argument. "The general read the reports on what Angel did in World War II; he said both of you helped to bring in a sub. Getting our hands on that technology saved thousands of soldiers, and he didn't believe that Angel got involved because he was forced. Angel's a centuries old vampire, and the soldiers, the Demon Research Initiative, they didn't know what they were doing." Now the words spilled out. Angel breathed deeply, the terror making him feel nearly drunk.

"None of you know what the bloody hell you're doing," Spike pointed out. He leaned in toward Graham and his delicious smell of fear.

"I know that. I'm not trying to spy. I want to make this work because I know the advantages you bring to the table. I'm not spying. I swear I'm not spying."

Angel had no doubt he was getting the truth now. The words and the fright fell from Graham like apples rolling from the top of an overloaded bushel.

"Why did you leave Riley?" Angel whispered.

"I didn't have a choice." Graham sounded desperate now, and Angel had to truly hold him still as Graham fought against Angel's grip. "He told me that I was making things more difficult—that I had to toe the line or transfer out."

Angel looked at Spike in shock. Riley and Graham had been the two who had been closest.

"Explain what happened, pet," Spike urged him. He moved his hand so that he was no longer gripping Graham's throat, but instead he rested his palm against Graham's chest, directly over the heart. With the little bit of freedom he now had, Graham looked over his shoulder at Angel, and the man was closer to breaking than Angel had thought. A small part of him reveled in his ability to rip a human apart, but a larger part was bothered by the sudden vulnerability he could see there.

Angel let go of Graham's arms and walked to his side. Reaching up, he put a hand on the soldier's shoulder, the way two men might do. It was a gesture that Graham would understand. "You came here because you trusted us to make a better decision, but then you withheld information so that we were forced into a conclusion that wasn't accurate. If you trust us, you have to give us your loyalty." Angel watched Graham; he could see the man gathering up his emotional reserves and patching the spider's web of cracks in his psyche.

"It..." Graham stopped. He closed his eyes and weighed his words. Angel knew with one push, he could finish this job and break Graham. Whatever had happened in Sunnydale, it had already started the process. Instead, Angel jerked his head in Spike's direction. Spike backed off and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. They both waited while Graham sorted his own thoughts.

When Graham opened his eyes again, Angel just watched as Graham slowly backed up and sank onto the couch he had recently shared with Faith. He looked exhausted.

"I don't want to share intel that could get someone killed," he admitted quietly. Angel had to contain his smile. Clearly Graham had chosen his side because he had just given them his greatest fear and his most vulnerable weakness. Angel gave a tiny nod to Spike.

"Mate," Spike said, casually strolling over to the couch and sitting next to Graham, "I've put up with a lot of shite without killing. Bloody hell, I found you fucking Faith when I didn't know you from a hole in the ground, and I was ready to kill you over that, and I didn't."

Graham looked over. "I didn't understand."

"Wot? That she's not as unbreakable as she pretends or that you didn't have a bloody right to go mucking with clan without being clan?"

"Either," Graham admitted, but there was a little hint of humor in his voice.

"Graham, we are not going to randomly kill. We'll only kill if there truly isn't another way because killing generally only leads to feuds and more death. You know I won't put Xander in the middle of that." Angel sat in his chair and looked at Graham, waiting for the inevitable confession.

Graham's gaze slid back down to the floor. "The Initiative, the newest incarnation of that World War II Demon Research Initiative, it had an objective. Before her arrest, Maggie Walsh was working on a behavior modification chip. Sensors would detect violence, and it would punish any violence by sending an electrical shock into the vampire's brain."

Angel sat up, anger slamming into him. Spike was already in gameface, so it was probably good that Graham was so intent on studying the floor. He kept on talking.

"Dr. Walsh thought she could limit the chip. When vampires feed or even hurt humans, it activates the ventral striatum, a part of the brain that reacts when a basic need is satisfied. Fighting demons doesn't activate the same brain structures. Some of the Initiative scientists hoped to capture and use vampires as..." Graham swallowed nervously... "hunting dogs."

"Did they develop the chip or operate on any vampires?" Angel asked. The idea of chipped vampires disgusted him, both because of the way it would make those vampires weak and because of the unethical people who could torture a creature that way. The vampire would have an unbearably miserable life.

Graham shook his head. "She never even got the chip to work. She was arrested for illegally experimenting on us."

"Bloody lucky thing because if I'd found out about her plans, I would have tortured her until she crawled over glass for the right to soddin' die." Spike snarled the words. Graham shrunk in on himself, but he didn't defend his former boss. Angel moved to sit on the arm of the couch, resting a reassuring hand on Graham's shoulder.

"This is old news, Graham. How did this cause you and Riley to fight? How did this get you exiled from your clan?" Angel intentionally used words that would remind Graham that he wasn't part of the Sunnydale group anymore. They had thrown him out and Angel had taken him in.

Graham took a deep breath. "Some of the soldiers mentioned this to Giles and Buffy. Giles and Willow and Jenny started discussing the possibility of a magical version of the chip, but Buffy eventually vetoed it."

"To use, how?" Spike asked. He was furious, Angel could tell from his lack of emotion.

Graham slowly turned his head to the side and looked at Spike. "They talked about a targeted spell, something that would disable a vampire's ability to fight right before the men moved in. They also talked about bombs... magical bombs that would saturate an area with the spell and vampires who wandered through the area during the bomb's active period would be magically chipped."

"Bloody fucking wankers." Spike was up and pacing, and if Giles, Jenny, or Willow were in the room right now, Angel was guessing he would have to physically defend them from a very pissed off Spike. "They give any thought to the fact that we're vampires?"

Graham nodded. "Riley said that once we created the weapon, we couldn't keep it absolutely secure. You two would be vulnerable, but so would the other vampires the government has been watching."

"Other vampires?" Angel demanded.

"Some vampires seem to be more human than most—a couple in Toronto, one in Louisiana, a pair in Singapore... Riley pointed out that creating a weapon that could disable a vampire would pose a danger to all of you, and since we had an alliance with you and Spike, we shouldn't do it. He also had tactical objections."

"Such as?" Angel prompted him. He kept his own emotions tightly controlled. Clearly Graham already knew the Initiative was on thin ice with him, and further threats weren't likely to make him talk more.

"There was no way to know if the weapon worked before the battle, so it would make planning difficult. Even more than that, it targeted a part of the brain humans use, so if the spell went wrong, it could end up disabling or destroying humans instead."

"Oh, it would bloody go wrong. Mojo always does," Spike said.

"If Riley opposed the spell, did that mean you approved of it?" Angel asked, not liking where this was going.

"No!" Graham looked at him with alarm. "Vampires are not a major threat... vampires on the hellmouth... minions. Minions are not a major threat and that sort of firepower is inappropriate for the threat-level."

Spike looked amused at Graham's attempts to backtrack after calling vampires harmless. Angel was a little more interested in getting more information.

"You and Riley opposed the spells and Buffy vetoed it, why did this cause a problem?" Angel tightened his grip on Graham's shoulder.

"I told Riley that I wasn't comfortable with how things were. Buffy only vetoed the planned spell after Jenny Giles admitted that it might affect humans. Buffy has a blind spot when it comes to people. The Initiative has arrested everything from a man making magical beer to devolve college students to a mage trying to capture the energy of the hellmouth. But in every case, Buffy attempted to interfere with the capture because she isn't comfortable admitting that humans are just as dangerous as demons."

"Buffy's always had that blindspot," Angel admitted. She wasn't the only one. The Order of Teraka, the most feared assassins and bounty hunters in three dimensions, hired humans for that very reason—people tended to see humans as generally good and overwhelmingly harmless.

Graham rubbed both hands over his face and leaned back against the couch. "I told Riley that I didn't trust Jenny or Willow. Several times, they seemed to stop talking when I came near, and when I brought the subject up with Tara, she blushed and couldn't look me in the eye. I think Tara knows those two are in danger of going off the deep end, but she loves Willow. And Buffy is so blind to any sort of danger posed by a human that she can't evaluate the potential danger."

"You told Riley this," Angel said.

"Yeah."

Angel looked at Spike. This explained a lot—like why they'd inherited Graham. Angel was guessing that Riley had given him the choice of shutting up or leaving.

"Spike, call Lorne. We're going to go see the Transuding Furies and make sure we're safe from any cast spells."

"That'll cost a pretty penny," Spike pointed out.

Angel cringed. The treasure they'd raided in Sunnydale was not lasting nearly as long as Angel had hoped. Between the hotel remodeling and the cost of weapons and charms and books, they were going to have to either open the hotel for a lot more guests or he and Spike were going to need to find another treasure to steal.

"We'll figure that out later," Angel promised. "Right now, we need that protective spell."

"On it," Spike agreed as he headed out the door.

Angel looked down at Graham. The man looked absolutely miserable. "So, should I pack my stuff?" he asked, weariness clinging to his every move and word.

"You're part of my clan, Graham. You leave, and you'd just piss me off by making me find you," Angel answered. "I need you to keep close to Xander. His blind spot is just about as big as Buffy's when it comes to Willow. He loves her too much to have any good judgment around her, so if you see anything that makes you nervous, you come to me."

Angel turned around to leave, but Graham called out his name. Angel stood at the door and looked back at the man.

"You're good at breaking a person," he said softly.

Angel studied the soldier. This was a man who'd studied capture and interrogation and the psychology of breaking. "You didn't break, Graham. That would have taken a lot longer and you wouldn't have enjoyed it nearly as much. You just chose a side." With that, Angel headed out to the newly set-up library. He had very little time to prepare for a visit from the Sunnydale clan, and he was suddenly far less comfortable with the thought of Jenny Giles or Willow Rosenberg in his hotel.

Chapter 21

"Willow! Buffy!" Xander called out as the first of the Sunnydale clan walked through the front doors of the Hyperion Hotel. He threw himself forward, his arms out. Both girls returned his embrace enthusiastically. Angel was a little more cautious, and he noticed that the rest of his clan was equally reticent. Cordelia was sitting on the counter, leaning against the computer monitor and pretending to file a nail. In the corner, Spike was sharpening a sword, and the sharpening stone never paused as it shushed over the steel. Graham stood near the bottom of the stairs trading nods with the soldiers who trailed in behind Buffy and Riley and Willow, and Faith stood on the second story balcony, watching the scene with a detached caution.

"I'm feeling one with my inner jealousy, Xander," Buffy said with a whistle as she looked around. "I'm on the dirty, fuzzy end of the lollipop when it comes to cool lairs. I get a dorm room; an underground bunker done in white, white, and more white; and a frat house that smells like beer."

"Our place isn't that bad," Riley said, holding out a hand to Xander.

"Yes, yes it is." Buffy gave Riley an amused look as he shook hands with Xander.

"Most of us are coming straight off bases. We appreciate an order to relax the regs and look like good old fashioned college students," he laughed.

"Hey, I'll give you the penny tour if you want. I'm halfway through remodeling the fourth floor, and I have plans for a couple of suites up there that will knock your socks off," Xander interrupted. His face was lit with happiness. Angel just tried to not think about the money his future remodeling plans would cost, but from the withering look Cordelia gave him, he was not going to get to live in blissful ignorance for long.

Cordelia put her nail file down and hopped off the counter. "Speaking of penny tours, the rooms are $129 a night, due up front. So, how many rooms will you be needing?"

Buffy turned toward Cordelia. "You're really charging us? You called us for help, remember?"

"Then feel free to use the Downtown Sheraton as your base of operations while you do the helping. I can call ahead and check on their policy for carrying in heavy weaponry, if you like," Cordelia offered with a smile that wasn't anywhere close to nice.

Xander cringed. "Oh the high school memories this brings back," he said. "No wonder I went running and screaming away from the scarier gender."

"You what?" Buffy stared at him.

"My foot just had a close encounter of the mouth kind, didn't it?" Xander asked.

"Really?" Willow stepped forward, and for the first time, Angel noticed the shy woman who followed in her shadow. "You're gay?" She squealed the words, and just as she said them, Giles walked in, his gypsy wife at his side. Angel wasn't surprised when Giles' gaze immediately settled on him. "Why didn't you tell me?" Willow demanded.

"Hey, what about you getting your gay on? I did not get the memo on that." Xander held his hand out to the woman standing behind Willow. "Xander Harris, at your service," he offered with a flourish. The woman blushed and retreated a half step even as she took his hand.

"Tara Maclay."

Buffy shook her head. "Okay, not to sound totally offensive, but did everyone drink gay water?"

"Oh yeah, that doesn't sound offensive at all," Cordelia said as she rolled her eyes. "Hey, you! Oh no." Cordelia stormed across the lobby and planted herself in front of two soldiers who were trying to pull a cart of equipment in through the doors. A wheel was caught on the doorjamb. "Only guests are allowed to go crapping up our lobby, and no one has paid yet."

"I have a credit card." Riley stepped forward and pulled his wallet out. "I'm authorized for 14 rooms, but I'm sorry; I'm capped at $99 a night. Government rules." He gave an apologetic shrug as he held the card out toward Cordelia. For a second, she stood with her arms crossed. Angel watched curiously. He knew he had a poor understanding of money at best, but the payment sounded fair to him. Then again, he had accepted a tribute of $50 after a ronath had eaten one of their beds, and according to Cordelia, that had not been anywhere near the replacement cost.

"Fine. Fourteen rooms, and if someone so much as parks a luggage cart outside of a fifteenth room, I'm having Spike steal someone's credit card and charging it." She plucked the card from Riley's hand and headed behind the desk.

"And welcome to the Hyperion, where the staff is always..." Xander waved a hand in Cordelia's direction before slipping his arm around Willow. Even Angel had to admit that Cordelia wasn't easily described.

Cordelia looked up. "We have a wonderful suite on the third floor—marble bathroom, spa bathtub, and California king bed with these imported Egyptian cotton sheets plus a separate sitting room with an oversized television, top of the line stereo, and stunning decor. Actually, it's a lot like the room I sleep in every night, not quite as nice, but close. If anyone is classy enough to want the suite, it might be available."

"Buffy?" Riley asked.

"For $300 a night," Cordelia added.

Riley choked. "I think that's a little rich for us. The army doesn't pay that well."

Normally, Angel allowed Cordelia to run the finances; however, he needed to make sure that the two groups didn't become too acrimonious. After all, if there were elements of the Sunnydale clan that were plotting against him, he needed to make sure that Buffy and the soldiers were on his side. And that meant that he was going to play good vampire to Cordelia's bad human. Part of Angel appreciated the irony of this version of good cop, bad cop. A hundred years ago, he would have slowly shredded the skin from anyone who suggested that a human could intimidate an enemy more effectively than he could, and now he was ceding that field to Cordelia.

"Cordelia, Buffy is the head of her own clan. I think we can put her up in the good suite." Angel stepped forward.

"Yeah, Cordelia, I'm the head of my clan," Buffy seconded. Angel cringed because Cordelia was going to make him pay for that, but it was still worth it. He walked up to the counter and studied the gathering group.

Jenny was the frontrunner as the source of the trouble. Willow was entirely too concerned about pleasing the authority figures in her life, and right now, Rupert and Jenny Giles were the only parental figures for her to worry about. According to Xander, her own parents had been less than thrilled about her decision to choose Wicca over Judaism, and that probably made her more vulnerable to a need for reassurance. Giles was a close second. The Watcher had never forgiven Angel after their little midnight chat. The new witch was a mystery, but Graham insisted that she would never approve of any weapon that endangered their allies, so Angel gave her a preliminary pass. The rest of the soldiers who were wandering in, gathering in small groups around their equipment, would follow Riley. And Riley would follow Buffy.

Cordelia was still glaring at him, and Angel just looked at her blandly. "Fine. If we don't pay the back taxes, I'm sure we can find a nice homeless shelter." Cordelia muttered the words so softly that only Angel could hear them. Clearly he and Spike needed to do a little treasure hunting sooner rather than later.

"Angel," Riley stepped forward, offering a nod. "I brought a demolition team," Riley gestured to three men Angel didn't know. "Two surveillance teams." This was an assorted group, including a woman old enough to be Riley's mother. "Computer and logistical support." Angel knew two of the men in the four-man team. He remembered doing patrols of the university and seeing them hunched over those strange little computers that you could close up and carry around. "And four tactical teams." Riley gestured to the largest group. These were warriors—some of whom Angel already knew. Saunders was here, the woman Spike had originally suggested Xander sleep with to solve their Anyanka problem. So were Haarde, Clark, Aaronson, Sabato and Kirkop, all of whom had trained with Spike in Sunnydale. Several more were familiar, but he didn't know them.

Xander looked around. "Um, you guys do know our rooms are way more like rooms than like a TARDIS. Fourteen rooms divided by lots and lots of you is going to make for really crowded sleeping, and the rooms are not bigger on the inside than on the outside, which is where the TARDIS reference came in for those of you who are not hopeless Dr. Who geeks."

"We don't mind close quarters," Riley assured him.

"Speak for yourself," one of the tactical team said. "Begay snores like he's trying to break the sound barrier." Several of the soldiers laughed, one aiming a punch at the arm of a Native American who flipped them all off.

Buffy was laughing with the others, leaning into Riley. It was Willow that Angel watched. Xander still had his arm around her shoulders, but the only other person really paying attention to her was Giles. He would have thought she would fit right in with the computer and logistical support team, but clearly she was isolated from the military support, and that was a problem because Buffy was clearly part of the team. The dynamics were starting to become entirely too clear. Angel looked away from the Sunnydale crew and checked his own clan. Spike just continued sharpening his sword and watching silently, and Graham had actually backed away some. Xander was the only one who seemed oblivious to the tensions running through the room. He was busy whispering in Willow's ear, and she had her hand over her mouth as she tried to not laugh.

"We have a place on the first floor where you can secure any equipment," Angel said. "Xander can show you that. And Cordelia can find you keys for your rooms. Except for Buffy's third floor room, they're all going to be on the fourth floor." Angel watched as a new face appeared next to Faith at the second story railing. From a distance, the Lister boy looked human, but the ridges around his eyes and his color would mark him as a demon the moment someone got close enough to discern more than the general outline.

"I just need to make one thing clear." Angel stepped away from the counter and faced the entire clan. Buffy frowned at him, clearly confused by his tone. The soldiers immediately quieted, and Spike even stopped, the schoop-whirl of the stone against the sword falling silent.

"Being human doesn't give a person a free pass, ethically," Angel started. He could see Giles' back stiffen. Jenny had turned her back completely and she was half-hidden by her husband, so it was difficult to judge her body language. Of course, the body language he could see didn't exactly please him. "Soldiers know this more than most humans, I think. They have to fight evil that is, more often than not, created by humans. I think I've earned the right to say that. After all, Spike and I are the only two in this room around to actually fight the Nazis."

Spike stood up and looked at the crowd. "Bloody tasty gits, even if they were five stone of crazy in a burlap bag. And their women all looked like Goebbels." Spike made a disgusted face, and Angel watched that bit of information filter through the Sunnydale crew. The soldiers had turned somber.

"You fought Nazis?" Giles asked Spike rather disbelievingly.

"SS came mucking about in my life, so I mucked up theirs a bit, yeah," Spike told him. "I'm not a bloody do-gooder. I’m not like Angel out to save the world for puppies and kittens. But there's evil that's bad enough that even I'll take a stand, and when I've seen that evil, like as not, I’m looking at a human."

Angel took another step forward, reclaiming the floor. "The whole reason why I could convince your general to investigate Dr. Walsh is because I already had a history with the army—one that included fighting the Nazis. And it turned out that Dr. Walsh was the one illegally testing on her own soldiers—turning them into guinea pigs so she would test her theories without having to worry about ethics or review boards or medical doctors who might question the long-term damage she was doing. She was keeping men alive on machines after she had carved over half their bodies away." There was an uncomfortable stir in the room.

"I saw it," Riley confirmed. "Dr. Walsh had three fallen soldiers in a secret level of the lab. They'd been butchered and machines were forcing their hearts to beat and push blood up to their brains."

"Okay, way to bring the downer," Buffy said quietly. "Angel, is there some reason for this Prozac-sucking moment?"

"Demons come here," Angel said. "Not the type of demons who want to reclaim this dimension and wipe out all human and half-breed life. The demons who come here have families and lives and jobs. They complain about their bosses and jet lag and taxes. They come to LA to meet potential mates or to have their auras read as part of their religious rites." Angel paused. He wasn't a fan of speeches, but all the soldiers needed to hear this.

Jenny stepped out from behind Giles, and he could see her distrust and her hatred like a living creature that had crawled into her skin. Angel continued, focusing on the soldiers who were listening, on Buffy as the clan leader. "These demons come here to have a quiet room where no one will judge them or try to hurt them. Right now, I have twenty Listers staying on the third floor. These are families that have been living in abandoned buildings and basements, running for their lives because they don't have any special powers and the Scourge has been exterminating them because they're peaceful enough that they've married humans and had children of mixed blood. The injured and the elderly and the sick have fallen behind and been slaughtered. Their few fighters have died trying to slow the Scourge down long enough for families to flee as the Scourge set fire to abandoned buildings to force them out. If one of you does anything to make them feel unwelcome..." Angel smiled at the group, but he didn't even try to make it a nice smile. "I will not be pleased."

"Bloody understatement, that," Spike added softly.

"Oh please," a voice called from the second floor. Angel didn't bother looking—he recognized Rieff's voice. Doyle had been trying to work with the teenager, trying to convince him to let go of some of his anger, but the Lister teen was just as resentful as ever. "Do you think they're ever going to see demons as anything but evil?" Rieff demanded. "They don't understand. None of you will ever understand. Even you vampires—you think you can imagine how I feel, but you can pass as human. You can walk around without people pointing and laughing. You're all the same. You have no idea what it's like to be me."

Rieff's running footsteps faded as the boy ran farther into the hotel. For a second, there was utter silence. Xander looked troubled, and Angel was actually relieved to see that Willow and Tara looked equally troubled. Most of the soldiers had lost all expression from their faces, but Angel knew these were battle-tested men and women who were going to hide even the strongest emotions. Angel was surprised to see that even Giles looked speechless.

"Well," one of the soldiers eventually said in the heavy silence. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear I was home on leave because that sounded exactly like my little brother. Sixteen is not a fun age." Several of the soldiers laughed, the dark humor cutting through the somber mood without dispelling it.

"Less fun when you have the running for your life going for you," Xander pointed out. "His job was to raid the neighborhood for food and get it back to his family so his little brothers and sisters didn't starve. And I complained bitterly about taking out the trash at his age, which is not making me feel all that good about myself." Soldiers shifted uncomfortably. Career soldiers were warriors who had a code, and Angel was relieved to see that most of them were bothered by Xander's words. Even now, as soldiers started to gather up equipment, they talked in whispers and moved slowly and quietly.

"Xander, why don't you show them the secure storage," Angel suggested, keeping his voice soft. He wanted these soldiers thinking about what they'd seen. Xander nodded and whispered something to Willow before he started moving toward the hall, gesturing for the others to follow. Giles and Jenny huddled by the door, their conversation intense, but so quiet that Angel couldn't catch even one word of it. Spike was closer, so hopefully he'd catch a word or two. "I need to get the keys," Cordelia said softly, and then she vanished into the inner office.

Eventually, Buffy wandered over to Angel's side. "Okay, that was slightly intense."

"I didn't want there to be any misunderstandings," Angel told her.

She frowned at him. "So, we get the 'humans, evil; demons, good' speech?"

For a second, Angel could only look at her. "That wasn't the speech I just gave," Angel pointed out.

Her frown deepened. "Okay, then I need to borrow someone's lecture notes because I got humans evil, demons good. Being that I'm on the human end of that syllogism, I'm not feeling all warm and fuzzy."

Closing his eyes, Angel immediately dismissed the urge to correct her vocabulary. Xander mangled words far more consistently than Buffy ever dreamed of, so he knew his urge to lecture her on logical syllogisms was just part of his general frustration with her. He also passed over the opportunity to point out that she had more than a touch of demon herself. "Buffy, the Scourge are both unforgivably evil and demons. The Nazis were evil, and they were human beings. My point was that an individual chooses to be good or evil."

"So, people being evil means that demons are out there being good? Still not buying the logic."

For a second, Angel watched as Cordelia came out of the office and started handing out keys, typing into her computer with each key that she finally relinquished. Small groups of soldiers began to wander toward the stairs and the elevator, keys in hand. Angel wondered why he thought he could do this. He did so much better with problems he could just hack at with a sword. Angel changed his approach. "Two of the most ethical men I've ever known are Xander and Oz. Both showed an incredible willingness to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. They didn't have to do the right thing, they simply chose to."

Buffy looked at him oddly.

"One is human, and one is a demon," Angel pointed out. Riley wandered over. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around Buffy's stomach and pulled her close, but he didn't comment as he watched them. Buffy smiled up at Riley for a second before focusing on Angel again.

"Um, no. Okay, I have my moments, but even I can count to two. One, two." She held up first her index finger and then her middle one. Then she put both fingers down. "Xander, Oz." Again she lifted the index finger and then the middle one. "Human, human." Two more fingers. Then she frowned. "Okay, so human 27 days out of thirty, but that's a majority, and the majority rules."

"A werewolf is a demon, Buffy," Angel said, wondering just what Giles had taught her. "If you read any of the demonology books, you'll find them listed along with vampires as blood-borne manifestations of demons into human bodies. I can show you if you want."

"That makes it sound icky. He just got teethed on by a toddler, not mauled. And vampires are very much not werewolflike."

"No, the demons in werewolves are stronger. If you drank my blood, that would open a portal for a vampire to try and take possession of your body."

Buffy stiffened in Riley's embrace, her hands grabbing his wrists, and for a second, Angel could see the distrust there. "Okay, let's not try that," she said.

Angel sighed and leaned back against the counter, intentionally putting himself in a poor position to defend himself, and Buffy immediately relaxed. Allowing the quiet commotion in the lobby to distract him, Angel watched as Xander came back out and headed straight for Willow. Oddly enough, Willow had been standing in the middle of the room, not moving toward anyone. Tara stood by her side, but the two of them were an island of stillness in the middle of all of the soldiers' efficient movement. He turned his gaze back to Buffy.

"I wasn't planning to offer you blood," Angel pointed out, "but if I did, you'd be safe. A vampire is not strong enough to battle a soul for possession. Your soul would push the demon back out."

"But that's not true with a werewolf demon?" Buffy asked, but the detachment in her voice suggested that she was already thinking of the ramifications of that one fact.

Riley spoke up. "So, does that mean that Oz is actually possessed all the time, that the physical manifestation during the full moon is just one symptom?"

Angel nodded. "The demon is always inside Oz, always making him feel demonic instincts. If a werewolf becomes emotional—angry, lustful, afraid—he can turn without the full moon. I've seen one turn in the middle of the day in the middle of a crowd."

"How did you keep the press away?" Riley asked, immediately considering the practical concerns.

"It was somewhere in the mid-1800's." Angel pointed out. "Covering for the werewolf was not my first priority. However, Oz is a good man who doesn't lose himself in that. Just because he is infested with a demon, that doesn't mean he's evil. He would only be evil if he gave in to the instinct to serve his own pleasure and power at the expense of other people."

"Dr. Walsh proved that you don't need a demonic possession to give in to that instinct," Riley said with a grimace. Angel understood how hard that had been for Riley to admit. The soldier had vehemently stood up for Dr. Walsh until all the evidence had come it, but once given, loyalty wasn't easily given up. God knows that Angel had his own issues remembering Darla, the sire who he'd tried to follow even after she'd brought him the gypsy girl who had led to his sould being cursed back into him. Sometimes during his hundred years of wandering the earth homeless, he'd blamed her. He'd imagined that she'd betrayed him out of malice or boredom. In his saner moments, he understood that she had only wanted him to enjoy a girl whose dark hair and eyes were so much like Drusilla. But Angel couldn't imagine knowing that you'd pledged yourself to someone and, in return, they'd filled you with poison and lied to you. Dr. Walsh was probably safer in prison than she would be around the soldiers she'd betrayed.

When Buffy's nose wrinkled, like she was smelling something unpleasant, Angel also suspected that he had made her see something she had not wanted to see. "Why do I have a sudden urge to give evil surveys to the demons I slay pre-slayage?" Buffy asked unhappily. He understood her position—to be effective, she had to kill without remorse, but if she believed him, that was impossible.

"It's not the same on a Hellmouth," Angel promised her. "Most demons can feel the evil soaking up through the ground. There are a few neutral demons who can't feel the Hellmouth or who just don't care. Some time when I'm in Sunnydale, I'll introduce you to Clem. But most good demons are going to avoid anyplace that feels so inherently evil."

"And if I accidentally come across the not-evil kind?" Buffy looked up at him with horror, and he realized she desperately wanted an answer.

"They'll be running away from you long before you see them," Angel promised her. "Demons like the Listers learn to make themselves scarce because that's their only defense." Angel watched as Xander urged Willow toward the stairs. Tara followed, her gaze darting around the lobby like a bird unsure of where to land. He was pleased to note that Graham quickly closed in on the trio, smiling at them as he invited himself for whatever tour Xander had offered her.

"This makes me wonder what would have happened if the general hadn't arrested Dr. Walsh," Riley said quietly, and Angel focused back on their conversation. "Would I have captured Oz or some kid like the one who just gave us his version of teen angst?" Riley looked more than a little bothered.

"You wouldn't have done that," Buffy said firmly, but Riley was already shaking his head.

"Dr. Walsh was drugging me. She controlled all the information, and the information she shared with me and the men... every day I discover another lie. She wanted us to focus on vampires because she thought they were some of the strongest demons."

"Not really," Angel offered. As Angelus, one of the reasons he had been so ruthless was because he felt his inferiority just as surely as Liam had. Only instead of having one overbearing father telling him that he wasn't worthy, he had most of the demon community saying it. Vampires survived by wit or by reproducing at rates that other demons couldn't match. They were stronger than humans, but that wasn't saying much.

"You know," Angel said, watching as Cordelia rationed out the last of the keys, "I'm developing an extensive library here. Your logistical and research teams are welcome to come down and study it."

"If they pay a fee," Cordelia said loudly enough to carry over the general murmur of the men left in the lobby.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"That's fair," Riley offered before Buffy could object. "It's not easy or cheap to run a covert operation this size. Does Graham have clearance for the library?" For the first time, Riley's voice showed stress.

"Graham has full access to anything in the hotel," Angel said, keeping his voice emotionless. Graham was part of his clan now, and a small part of Angel stirred restlessly at this evidence that Riley still held strong feelings for his friend. "But Graham and Faith normally patrol the tourist districts while Spike and I take the docks and warehouses. LA has a large enough vampire population to keep us all busy, and I wouldn't want him up all day transcribing books and then trying to patrol."

Riley nodded, but the motion was tight and jerky. "Fair enough. It's been pretty quiet, so I might send one or two of our researchers down."

Buffy gave a laugh. "At least you have vamps. Sunnydale has been deadsville this year, and not in the crawling with the living dead sort of deadsville. We're down to fighting over who gets to slay the odd demon we can scare up. I never thought I'd be so bored with demonless, slimeless patrols."

That piece of information truly worried Angel. "That isn't good. There's a lot of power in Sunnydale, and if no one is trying to tap into that power, something big is scaring them away."

"Maybe we're the 'big' doing the scaring," Buffy said. "Only I'm not really believing that. That was more like wishful thinking." She shrugged. "Giles says there's some ultimate evil that's scheduled for a return tour next year, so I'm just trying to get my required English classes out of the way now."

"I appreciate that you're giving the teams a chance to work in the field." Riley looked around as the last of his men waited at the elevator, their bags sitting at their feet. "Training hasn't been as intense since Spike left town, and we need to stay sharp if Mr. Giles is right about next year."

Spike had wandered close, the sword he'd been sharpening still in his hand. But then, Angel didn't expect him to go unarmed in a hotel full of demon hunters. Spike flashed Riley and Buffy a wide grin. "Right then, you miss me?"

"Like the plague," Buffy answered for Riley.

Spike offered her a two fingered salute before he turned to Cordelia. "You need me ta help with anything, luv?"

"Them!" Cordelia gestured toward the door. Giles and Jenny were still deep in conversation just outside the front doors of the hotel. "I am not going to stand here forever and wait for them. I have paperwork to do and books to catalog and my hair is scheduled for deep conditioning tonight."

"Oi, you lot," Spike yelled. Angel thought it was probably a little over the top to point the sword at the couple, but Spike had never been good at subtle. "Piss or get off the pot. The woman's got better things to do than wait for you to move your sorry arses."

"Charming as ever," Buffy said with a nasty smile.

"Bloody honest as ever." Looking at Riley, Spike shook his head. "I don't know what you soddin' see in her. She's as bad as Darla, always tryin' to put on airs and make out like she something she's not."

"Spike," Angel warned. He got an eyeroll in return. However, Angel had other concerns. Giles was finally coming into the hotel, his arm resting on Jenny's back as he escorted her in. From the look on Jenny's face, she'd lost whatever debate the two of them had been having just outside the hotel.

"Angel," Giles offered with a stiff nod. The man was obviously going out of his way to not create more hostility.

"Giles," Angel offered in return.

"Yes, despite the rather tactless invitation," Giles looked at Spike, "we will take a room near the one Buffy and Riley will be sharing."

Cordelia typed something into her computer. "Three hundred a night," she offered primly.

"I... what?" Giles blinked owlishly.

"We should get a room somewhere else," Jenny said with a tight smile, making it all too obvious what they had fought about.

"I'm sure Cordelia can find us a more reasonable rate. This isn't the Taj Mahal, after all." Giles stared at Cordelia. Angel wondered if that had worked when he had been a teacher in possession of some nominal power over her. Somehow, he doubted it.

"We're booked up. If you're unhappy with that, talk to Xander. He's the one in charge of remodeling, and right now, the fourth floor is full of soldiers, the third floor is full of Listers, except for our deluxe suites, and the second floor is family." Cordelia looked up. "You are not family."

"Listers? The demon refugees?" Giles' stiffened some at that.

"My guests," Angel said sharply.

Giles pulled his hand away from Jenny and used it to pull a handkerchief out. Not surprisingly, he began polishing his glasses. "Yes, of course. I would hope you could find us a room at a slightly discounted rate," Giles asked. He stared at his own glasses as he polished them, but then, Angel imagined that was the point of his little ritual. Cleaning his glasses allowed him to emotionally divorce himself from the situation by focusing on his own hands.

Angel gave Cordelia a nod. She narrowed her eyes at him, and Angel just knew he was going to have to sit though another spreadsheet outlining their expenses and their income and her inability to magically make numbers match when people kept spending way more than they brought in.

"Fine. $199 a night, and considering that we paid more for the Egyptian cotton sheets, that is the best deal you're getting." Cordelia turned her finger toward Buffy and Riley. "And if any of you get gun oil, demon ick, slime, or semen on those sheets, I'm back charging your card."

Riley held up both hands in surrender. "Yes, ma'am."

Buffy rolled her eyes, but she didn't argue. Angel wondered if her own demon could feel the discomfort at being in another's territory.

"I'll show them up to the rooms," Angel said, holding out his hand for the keys. He knew that Giles would want to stay between Buffy and any demons, and he specifically wanted to make sure that Buffy got as close to the Listers as possible. Cordelia surrendered two keys with an unctuous smile. "Thank you for staying with us, and if you need anything, feel free to take care of it yourselves because we're not your servants," she told the last of the Sunnydale crew before she turned and headed back into the inner office.

"Bloody hell, I adore that woman," Spike said and then he grabbed his sword and followed.

Angel started heading for the stairs. The extra exercise would, no doubt, annoy Giles and Jenny greatly. "Wait," Buffy called. "Did Spike just imply... Okay, that's disturbing."

"Only if they could have children." Riley walked over and grabbed two bags, slinging each over a shoulder as he smiled.

"Way to go with the disturbo images." Buffy walked over to the door and grabbed most of Giles' bags. "Now I'm going to have nightmares about little miniature punk wanna-bes wearing tiaras and taking over the world."

Angel smiled. He had forgotten how much he actually enjoyed Buffy's irreverence. She and Xander had similar senses of humor.

"Think about this," Riley said in an amused voice, "if they could have children, that would mean they'd be stuck raising miniature versions of themselves."

"Ohh!" Buffy's eyes lit up. "That would almost be worth the world-endage."

Angel headed up the stairs. On the second floor landing, he could hear Xander excitedly showing off Angel's suite, so he was guessing Willow was in there. Pushing aside his fears, Angel allowed Graham to keep an eye on that situation while he headed up to the third floor, the leaders of the Sunnydale clan following close behind.

Chapter 22

"You have to see this," Xander said, reaching over to flick a light switch. Blue lights under the porcelain tub turned on, and the light seemed to glow from inside. "Cool, huh?" Xander turned the light back off.

"Very much with the lighty goodness," Willow agreed. Xander shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the tub where he was sitting next to Willow. She picked at her skirt, and Tara was looking pretty uncomfortable as she stood next to Willow. Things were definitely not back to the easy friendship they'd once shared.

"So, you did all this work?" Tara asked. Xander smiled at her. "Not all by myself. I found a really cool way to get extra credit and free labor."

"Oh?" The word 'extra credit' cheered Willow up a bit.

"Yep. I get Angel to pay for supplies and then volunteer the hotel for a field trip. The teachers love the fact that this place has enough rooms for the construction students to pair up and see just how ugly plumbing and wiring can get in a building that's coming up on its ninetieth birthday. And in one week, I can get twenty rooms updated. And bonus, Angel gets to see everyone's grade, so I know which rooms I have to redo before the building inspector shows up."

"Generally, it's a great plan, but I thought Faith was going to snap that guy's neck last time," Graham said. He was sitting on the long marble vanity, leaning back against the mirror so there were two of him, each leaning against the other.

"Goddess, why?" Willow asked, her hands coming up to her mouth. Xander was just glad that Graham didn't mention Spike being in on that neck-snapping plan.

"Do you remember Devon? The dating Buffy and asking Cordelia out at the same time Devon?"

Willow scrunched up her face before she turned to Tara. "He was kind of a boy whore, and then there was the time he put drugs in the green Jello, and he turned Angel all grrrr."

Xander flinched. He hadn't actually meant to remind her of that little adventure. Tara nodded. "I heard the s-stories."

"Yeah, well one of the guys at school makes Devon look classy. He was over here about a month ago, and he offered to plumb Faith's pipes. Actually, I seem to remember talk of pipe snakes and clogs and some really bad thrusting metaphors."

Willow made a face, and Tara just blushed.

"I remember the screaming," Graham added. "Lots of screaming. He should have known that if he was offering his equipment, Faith was going to want to test the durability of the goods before buying."

"Oh... OH!" Willow cringed in sympathy.

Graham shrugged. "I was not feeling the sympathy."

"The school offered to kick him out for sexual harassment, but Faith didn't want to go there. She just told him that if she caught him talking to a woman like that again, she was going to confiscate his equipment altogether. Oddly, he dropped out of school," Xander said with a grin. He couldn't say he was sorry.

Tara reached up and ran a finger over the glass tile around the tub. "It seems like you're happy here."

Xander didn't miss the way Willow's gaze skittered away and settled on the floor. "I miss my girls," Xander quickly answered. "I make Spiderman jokes, and no one gets them."

Willow looked up and smiled. "I can't believe you made me read all those."

"Jesse and I would quiz her on Spiderman and then she'd quiz us on our required reading for school. I'm guessing you know who always won that little contest," Xander told Tara.

Tara gave him a small smile and let her hand rest on Willow's shoulder. Xander liked Tara. He hadn't expected to because part of him still thought of Willow and Oz as the fairy tale couple, but Tara had a calm that could rival Oz, and she looked at Willow like she was utterly in love and didn't even care who knew it.

Reaching out, Xander rested his hand on Willow's, stopping her from picking any more threads from her skirt. He was afraid, at this rate, that she was going to end up skirtless. "I haven't been able to beat Willow in anything since the first summer Boogerman came out."

Willow shivered. "I hated that game. It was so bad. You had to fling boogers and fart at these creepy little demon things. It was gross."

"Which led to a lack of Willow practice. I am the almighty Boogerman champion." Xander held his arms up in victory. "Of course, it didn't hurt that she kept covering her eyes every time she fart attacked."

"It was gross," Willow defended herself softly, but Xander could feel the tension finally draining out of the room.

"I'm sure it was," Tara agreed with her.

"So, Tara, what were your big misuses of time as a kid?" Xander asked. He wasn't prepared for Tara to go stark white.

"I... I was f- f-fairly quiet."

Willow looked up at her. "Tara actually comes from a big magical family. She can do way more than I can, especially with potions and incantations. I guess training with Jenny has left me more on the techno end of the magic scale, but together, we can do some wild magic."

"You have a lot of power," Tara told Willow. Then she looked up at Xander. "I know about herbal remedies and potions, but I didn't do much before I came to Sunnydale."

"Yeah, that's the Hellmouth for you," Xander said. "It makes you tap into whole new powers just to try and not get your ass kicked by the local demons. You should have been around right before the mayor went boom in the local school. I think there were more vampires than humans in town."

"We were under orders to only conduct reconnaissance at the time, but we'd go out and get all these vampire readings on our gear, and it just about turned my hair white," Graham agreed. He shook his head. "Some days I wondered why the hell I didn’t run for the hills, and other days I just wanted the green light so I could start killing the things."

"Yep, Hellmouthy good days," Xander shrugged. "I can't say that I'm sorry the mayor going boom has left a big pile of boring. You guys deserve a little boring," Xander told Willow. He was bothered by the fact she'd gone back to picking at her skirt.

"Is your room this nice?" Tara asked in the awkward silence that had descended.

"Tara!" Willow hissed. Tara practically shriveled into herself.

"What?" Xander recognized Willow outrage, he just didn't understand it. He traded looks with Graham, but he looked as confused as Xander.

"The room. I mean, it's really okay that you share a room with Angel, and this is a really, really awesome room to be doing the sharing with. The bathroom is bigger than most apartments in LA. So, it's all good. I mean, as long as you really like him it's okay, because you would never... you know... just to get a nice room. And goddess, I practiced this speech after Giles told me that you were probably going to, um, yeah, and it didn't sound like this at all."

"Oh," Xander said. Yep, here came the weird.

Willow reached out for his hand. "Exactly, and 'oh' is fine between consenting adults. 'Oh' is good even."

"Okay, I really don't want to think about you and Giles discussing my 'oh' at all," Xander said unhappily.

Graham made a disgusted sound. "I like to think that anyone who can't come out and say 'sex' isn't having any in the first place." Willow blushed dark red, and Xander glared at Graham until Graham held his hands up in surrender. "Just my opinion," he said in his own defense.

Xander was starting to wonder if the bathroom wasn't going to explode from the force of all the weird building up. "I have my own room, Willow," Xander said. "Not to say that I'm not interested in..." Xander waved his hand incoherently.

"Sex," Graham offered. "It's really is less disturbing when you just say it."

Xander glared at him. "Fine. I'm interested in sex, happy?"

"Goddess, no," Willow whispered. She really was going to burst a blood vessel blushing so hard, but strangely, Tara almost looked amused.

Xander braced himself to just get the conversation over fast—like pulling a Band-Aid off or ripping out an arrow that was lodged in your liver. Fast-good. "I would love to have sex with Angel, but Angel is all going-slow guy. He seems to think that I’m going to wake up and decide that he's gross or creepy or something. So we are not big with the... sex."

"But... why show us his room?" Willow asked. Xander was starting to wonder that himself. Right now, hanging out with Faith or Spike was sounding better and better, even if they were both taking sword training way, way too seriously. Xander's bruises had bruises some days.

"Because he has the coolest room," Xander pointed out. If he had a shot at the door, he really might run for it right now. Unfortunately, the bathroom really wasn't big enough for four adults and he was crammed in the corner farthest from the door. "He'd probably be happy in a closet if we let him put a bed in it, but demons have all these rules and expectations, and the head of the clan definitely needs bragging rights and I worked my butt off on this room."

"Hey, I'm impressed with the room," Graham offered. When Graham had first decided to tag along, Xander had been a little on the slightly confused side, but he was pretty damn glad he was here now.

"You just like the big screen TV."

"Hell, yeah," Graham agreed. "It's a little ironic because Angel does not strike me as a big television guy, but it's impressive."

"The bookshelves are more his speed," Xander agreed. "Those are solid mahogany. Originally, they were in storage in the basement, and water had damaged them so badly that the warping had split the wood and pulled all the joints loose." Xander stopped. Okay, he was falling back into pointless small talk, which was not really where he wanted to be, not with Willow.

"They were nice," Willow agreed. Then she picked at her skirt some more.

"We should see if we can get Cordy to comp you a room." Xander stood up and gestured toward the door. He really did wish he could make her happy, like when he had taken the fall for breaking that crayon, or when he and Jesse had gone along when she played doctor by poking them in the mouth with sticks, but he didn't know how anymore.

Willow stood up, and Tara reached over and slipped her own hand into Willow's, threading their fingers together. Looking over, Willow gave Tara a scrunch-face. "We'll probably have to pay double. Cordelia and I are not exactly friends."

"Hey, she's going to like you a whole lot more now that you're gay," Xander pointed out. "And I totally did not mean that in a creepy, she's-interested-in-you kind of way." Graham looked a little confused at that, but Xander did not want to get into a discussion of the weirdness that had been his high school love life. He really did consider gayness a defensive strategy at this point. "Speaking of the gay, where did you two meet?"

"Wicca group at school," Willow said, and now that they were safely small-talking, she looked a lot more cheerful. This was so not feeling like a healthy reunion. Xander still loved Willow, he just wasn't sure he knew her. "I thought I was going to meet all these witchy types and learn other types of magic, and it turns out that they were all new age pseudo-witches. They waved sage around and said that purified their auras, but when I mentioned spells." Willow got an unpleasant look on her face.

Tara nodded. "They weren't very open minded."

Xander held the door for the girls, watching them head for the stairs. "They probably don't believe in magic and demons and Hellmouths. I still think there's a weird brain-wiping vibe."

"Hellmouth amnesia," Willow agreed.

"Xander," Angel called from the first floor, and Xander was really, really hoping for some sort of plumbing emergency that would require his immediate attention. Heck, given five minutes and a wrench, he could create a fourth floor plumbing emergency.

Xander hurried down the stairs. "Wow, the lobby really cleared out. We were hoping you could maybe put in a good word with Cordy and get Willow and Tara a room, because unlike Giles and Buffy, she is not getting the monthly government paycheck."

Angel frowned. "Why not?" He reached out, and Xander just silently shook his head. For someone who insisted they had to wait three more weeks before sex, Angel was touching more and more. The second Xander got close, Angel's arm slipped around his waist and pulled him close. Oh yeah, his Angel had a few issues with possessiveness.

"I don't really do anything." Willow was quick to say it, and Xander even knew she believed it, but Xander wasn't buying it. From the frown on Angel's face, he wasn't either.

"I thought you were the one to develop the computer program that tracked deaths and potential vampires." Angel looked at Willow with that face that Xander liked to call his 'making a point' face.

"And she integrated a charm," Tara said. The woman was clearly uncomfortable around Angel, and she was practically behind Willow in her attempts to stay back, but she still spoke up. "The charm tracks demonic signatures and transposes them onto the program's map, so we can see how much demonic energy is in a place."

"That sounds cool. Why don't we get any of the cool computer stuff?" Xander asked. Honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to be able to track demons. He knew he didn't want to see how many demons were in LA because that number was freaksome. However, he also suspected that Willow had not been getting her daily dose of praise. The last time he'd seen her this twitchy was sixth grade. They'd had a teacher who thought praise just made a student lazy and laurel resting. By the end of the year, Willow had been a total basket case.

"Because we don't have anyone who can do that type of magic," Angel answered. "Willow, the tech team is setting up in the office, but I was wondering if you could help them."

"Me?" Willow took a step backwards, and practically pushed Tara back with her. Oh yeah, this was just going peachy. And here Xander thought this would be a great time to heal old wounds. Either this was opening new wounds, or Willow was way more wounded in general than he really wanted to even consider.

"Hey, you're tech-girl," Xander pointed out with a smile.

"Jenny is much better than I am. I should get her," Willow said, and she backed up another step toward the stairs.

"Willow." Angel held up a hand to stop her. "I don't trust Jenny Giles." Willow opened her mouth to argue, but Angel kept right on going without giving her a chance. "She knew there was a happiness clause on the soul-curse, and she didn't tell us."

Willow chewed on her lip for a second. "I'm sure she was only doing what she thought was right."

"I believe that," Angel agreed. "But the problem is that Xander was living with me at the time. Now we know that the curse requires perfect happiness, a condition I really don't think I'm in any danger of, but none of us knew that back then. For all she knew, a really good television program or a chance to see a sunrise in Technicolor for the first time in a hundred years could have been enough. If Angelus had come back for good, Xander would have been the first to find out."

Xander watched as Angel's words made Willow fold in on herself. Her arms hugged her stomach, and she just looked like she was shrinking. For a second, Xander considered stepping in, but hopefully Angel had a plan—one that didn't involve emotionally shredding Willow and leaving her in tears, because right now, Xander could see tears coming.

"Jenny didn't put Xander's safety first, but I know you will." Angel stepped forward and put a hand on Willow's shoulder. "You and Xander have been friends longer than anyone else here, and I'm including Spike and myself because our early relationship was not exactly friendly. I know you'll protect him, and I know you have the skills to do what the army programmers can't."

Willow blinked at him, and Xander recognized that expression. She was trying really hard not to cry and on the verge of failing. Xander wasn't all that sure that Angel recognized the expression because he kept right on talking about the job.

"They're trying to create a virus that will spread through the hate groups and the demon groups on-line, something that would capture information on the Scourge and send up a red flag so we can track all their units. But the Scourge is dangerous. If we destroy one army unit, they might write the unit off as dying in the line of duty or three more units might show up. They're fanatics, and we can't predict what they'll do."

"What do you want me to help with?" Willow asked in a small voice. Tara moved in closer, her arms coming around Willow's stomach as she held Willow from behind.

"The programmers are good, but they're used to tech. The Scourge may have cyberwiccan or technomages working for them. Can you create a cyberspell that will confuse any magical attempt to trace us? I don't want the Scourge showing up here and Xander being the one to answer the door."

Willow looked from Angel to Xander and back before nodding. "I can look. I still think Jenny could—"

"I don't trust her like I do you," Angel said firmly. "She doesn't have the same desire to protect Xander."

"Intention is important in a spell, and you love Xander," Tara whispered.

"Hey, Willow." Graham stepped forward. "Do you know Steven Wolfe?"

Willow nodded. "We met. He's one of Riley's friends."

Graham laughed. "Friend might be too strong a word. He's a great darts player and a nice guy, but Riley and I don't actually understand two words he says. I saw him and Miranda Tamani earlier, so I can introduce you. I'm surprised you guys aren't geeking buddies already." Graham turned to Angel. "Where'd you set up the geek boys, boss?"

"The blue office," Angel nodded toward the service hallway.

"Ladies," Graham offered a charming smile and a sweep of his arm. "Once you're done with your spell, I happen to know a certain carpenter who can be bribed into wearing a suit for a dinner at a nice restaurant."

"Hey! Any place that wants my business wants my workboots," Xander said while Graham was herding Willow and Tara toward the service hallway.

"Keep telling yourself that, kid," Graham called over his shoulder. Xander waited until they'd all turned the corner before Xander sagged into Angel.

"First, thank you for the save."

"You're welcome." Angel's arm came up behind his back, and Xander let his head fall onto Angel's shoulder.

"You have talked more today than in the last month," Xander said. Angel wasn't a talker, and the minute Angel started doing stuff that wasn't Angelish, Xander started wondering what plan he had going on in his head.

"I thought people needed to hear some truth, and I don't think they're getting that truth at home."

"Jenny and Giles." Xander sighed. Whoever thought time healed all wounds never tried being wounded around Jenny and Giles because they were more the hyenas gnawing at the edges of the wound than the letting it heal sort.

Angel urged him forward, and Xander gratefully followed Angel's lead. He was so in over his head with Willow and Giles and the new brand of weird they had going now. A Lister girl went running down the stairs, squealing in joy, and Xander stopped and watched her run. Her sister was close behind.

"How long do you think it's been since she could play like that?" Xander asked quietly.

"I don't know. But we're not only going to destroy this unit; we will track the main Scourge army so she doesn't have to worry anymore," Angel promised.

Xander wondered if the little girl or her family would have to worry about demon hunters or slayers. He thought back to those early speeches Giles had given them. Vampires had nothing of the human whose body they had taken. Demons were all evil hellspawn. Other dimensions were full of evil beings with the sole goal in life to destroy all human life. God, had he ever been so young that he bought that?

It didn't even make sense because if all demons were united against humanity, he was guessing humanity would have been in the crapper a really long time ago. Heck, they'd found that record of the one town where the demon finished his ascension. The whole town just, poof, vanished. Or at least the people did. Xander was guessing that if anyone had gone looking, they would have found a lot of suspicious poop. But the ascended demon hadn't then eaten the world. As far as Xander could tell, he'd ascended, eaten the town, and then fallen off the demonic radar. If you were in the town about to get eaten, ascension was totally and justifiably terrifying, but it wasn't world-ending, human race extinction, badage.

Angel guided them toward his bedroom, and Xander happily allowed himself to be guided. Only when the heavy double doors were closed and Xander had collapsed onto the couch did he think about the mess they had in the hotel. "This is not good, is it?" Xander asked.

Angel came over and sat so close that their thighs touched. "We can handle it. I think we're safer if more people do their own thinking and have access to independent information," Angel answered.

Xander let his head fall back against the couch. "And we're back to the Jenny and Giles show."

"Buffy is the leader of the clan I saw today. Those two are..." Angel stopped.

Rolling his head to the side, Xander studied Angel. He was more stressed about this than he was letting show. Angel had a seriously good poker face, but Xander could see the tiny traces of emotion that snuck through anyway. "Explain it in vampire terms," Xander suggested.

Angel looked over and shook his head. "They aren't vampires."

"But that's how you see the world. And freakily, your vampire logic works with people most of the time."

"Vampires do learn about the world from the humans whose memories they inherit. Maybe we inherit more human behaviors that we like to admit." Angel rested a hand on Xander's thigh. "Jenny and Giles are exiled Masters, old vampires who have made such a terrible mistake that their minions have abandoned them and they're left trying to curry favor with a new Master. A clan leader with vampires like that in his court knows that the old ones should be watched because they will learn their place, they will try to manipulate the situation to make themselves invaluable, or they will try to usurp the court."

"Slightly harsh," Xander said.

"But is it accurate?" Angel asked.

Xander couldn't answer that, he could only shrug.

"Maybe I shouldn't assume their motives are similar." The confidence Angel had shown just minutes ago faded. Now Angel had that expression like when he was watching a movie that he really didn't understand.

"The whole trying to make themselves invaluable part is possible. I don't like to think that Giles would be all shallow-man, but he got booted out of the Watchers, and his family was all Watchered up, so he probably got the boot from them too. When he got married, Willow told me that one cousin and Ethan Rayne were the only ones to show up on his side." Xander chuckled. "And then Ethan Rayne tried to suck Hellmouth energy out for some big chaos spell and Riley had to arrest him. Apparently Buffy was way with the freaking about Riley almost missing the wedding."

"Jenny failed her family." Angel stopped at that, but Xander could fill in the blanks. From what he'd seen of Jenny's creepy uncle, her family wasn't the forgiving or the mentally healthy sort. Suddenly Xander was feeling sorry for them, but he really did not want to deal with that tonight. Nope, he wanted to be really frustrated with them for keeping up the demonish propaganda. Maybe they needed to find a PR firm to friendly up the word "demon." Or they could pick a new word... like "dimensionally different" or "alternately evolved."

"Oh, and thank you for seeing that Willow was way with the flailing," Xander said. Angel's mouth did that little quirk thing.

"What?" Xander demanded.

"Nothing." Angel looked at him, but he had on that face, the one that said he had more than nothing going on.

"Angel, she's been my best friend as long as I can remember. That face? That face you have on right now? That face is making me wonder if I should worry."

The minute he said that, Angel immediately cut him off. "I would never hurt your friends."

"Then tell me what you did."

"I didn't do anything."

"Tell me what you're thinking about, then," Xander insisted. No way was Angel going to get a free pass on this one.

For a second, Angel just looked at him, and Xander crossed his arms. Angel sighed in defeat. "I just did what I would have done if she'd been a valuable minion acting like that," Angel admitted.

"Okay, please tell me this does not involve anything that is going to make me blush next time I see her," Xander begged.

"It doesn't." Angel shifted on the couch so that he was looking at Xander. "Sometimes a clan gets so large that a clan leader can't keep control over all the vampires in his court. The old master, Darla's sire, had a court that large. When that happens, the leader creates groups within his own clan, cliques that are loyal to each other. As long as the leadership of the group remains loyal to the clan leader, then all the members of the group will as well."

"That sounds logical," Xander agreed.

"Until you have a clique leader like Darla who breaks away, and then she takes her group with her."

"Oh, yeah. Batface could not have been happy about that."

"He forgave her." Angel dismissed that with a shrug, but then he always ended conversations about Darla as quickly as possible. Yep, Xander avoided Jesse conversations, and Angel avoided Darla ones. They had matching issues.

"Wait." Xander sat up. "You're trying to put Willow into a clique."

Angel nodded. "One that is loyal to Riley."

"Who is loyal to Buffy, and Giles and Jenny are out of the equation."

"Hopefully," Angel agreed.

"Small flaw, oh scheming one. Willow is all about the authority figure. She brought apples for the teachers, she practiced piano until her fingers cramped for her parents, she is pretty much all about the older authority figure telling her she isn't screwing up."

"Hopefully the soldiers with those computers will do that."

"If they can't?" Xander asked. Manipulating your friends because they were there and you just happened to manipulate them was one thing. Xander could admit he'd done his share of drive-by manipulations. But this was premeditated manipulation, and things were feeling creepier.

"I'll do what I have to in order to keep the clan safe," Angel said firmly. Then he got up and walked out of the sitting area and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"Well, crap," Xander whispered. Something was going on because no way would Angel get this worked up unless there was something to get worked up over. And the very fact that Angel wasn't telling him meant that the something was big enough that Angel didn't want him to have to deal with it. "If I catch any Scourge, I'm going to hit them... a lot," Xander promised himself. If it weren't for them, his two worlds wouldn't have come crashing up against each other. He glanced toward the main door. He could go down and talk to Willow—maybe crack a few jokes and try and help her fit in with the soldier guys. But he also knew that Angel was going to be brooding and wondering if he was screwing things up.

Getting up, Xander walked over to the bedroom doors. Locked. "Angel, open the doors," Xander called, knocking on the solid wood. "Angel, I built this suite. Do you really think I didn't keep builders keys for myself? Don't make me go through the crap in my room to find them."

The door clicked, but it didn't open. Xander pushed the doors open. "Hey," he said. Angel was sitting in the reading chair under the lamp. He had one of his big depressing books beside him. "You know..." Xander crossed the room and sat at the end of Angel's bed. "You're handling this way better than I am. I mean, I was just kinda failing my way through that conversation with Willow. We were doing great when we kept the conversation to anything pre-slayage, but whole avalanches of freaky kept falling on us when we talked about the here and now. So, you are not going to do your guilt thing. In fact, I just got a new video—Species II. Naked girl parts, aliens, and really, really horrible reviews. Horrifying reviews even. How can we go wrong?"

"I'm worried that I'm harming your friends, and you want to torture me with movies?" Angel asked. He was clutching his book like that would save him, but he should know better by now.

"Oh yeah," Xander agreed with a smile. "Either that, or I can get naked, lay on your bed, and see how long your one month rule lasts. Your choice."

Xander was rewarded with eyes that instantly yellowed with lust. Oh yeah, Angel might be playing noble, but there was definitely lust there. He was almost disappointed when Angel practically ran for the television in the sitting room. Not that Xander really wanted his first time with Angel to be a quicky with Willow likely to come knocking on the door and asking about dinner at any time. That would be awkward. Nope, sex later—sorting the various demons, friends and semi-allied clans now. Real life sucked.

Chapter 23

Angel rested the flat of his sword on his shoulder, and Xander might have stopped to consider how very sexy that looked if he wasn't more than a little freaked out about the coming fight. Across the alley, one of Riley's teams prepared the explosives at the west wall.

"Tell me these guys are good," Xander whispered to Graham. He was a little surprised that Graham was going in with them and not with the army guys going in on the other three sides, but Angel and Spike seemed to accept it without blinking, so Xander supposed something had changed when he wasn't looking.

Now that he thought about it, Graham hadn't really been hanging out with the soldiers except during sword training. Riley's crew had been more than a little disappointed that bullets were more on the annoying than the deadly side with these guys, and apparently their nifty exploding shell bullets used guns that were a little too large to carry into a fight. Three sharpshooters had already gone in to find the Beacon and make sure they were in position to shoot any demons trying to turn it on, and their guns were so big Xander wasn't sure he could lift them.

Faith stretched her back and shifted a little closer. "They'd better be good or this is going to be one short fight when those Scourge set off that Beacon." Two Listers had insisted on fighting with them, and they both watched with their lips pressed tightly together. Xander was guessing he was not the only one with pre-fight jitters.

"They're the best," Graham assured all of them. "The explosives teams will get all sides open at once, and while the other teams don't have as much experience with swords, they're experienced soldiers, so they'll handle their end of the fight."

"Then these uglies are going down," Faith said with a tight smile. "And if the fucking soldiers get in my way, they're going down, too," she warned, looking away from Graham. Xander traded a worried look with the guy.

"No worries, pet," Spike offered. "They get in the way, and I'll cut 'em down to size."

Cordelia rolled her eyes at them. "You two need a dictionary. Look up 'ally'."

"It means the wankers who I won't go out of my way to kill unless they threaten me or mine." Spike's lips curled into a smirk as he stalked closer to Cordelia, ducking his head and reaching out to slip a hand around her waist. "Nothing's touching you, pet," he promised her, his lips moving toward her. Xander cleared his throat and looked away because Spike somehow made kissing look dirtier than porn.

"You aren't ever touching me again if you kill Buffy's soldiers."

Xander looked over, and Cordy had on her 'so not kidding look.' It was a scary look.

"If you're done getting shot down, we need to focus," Angel said. "Four minutes. Xander, keep Cordelia in sight, and both of you stay to the rear. Call out if we have Scourge trying to flank us, and other than that, just pull the wounded to safety. And Spike, if you kill any soldiers, just remember that those two are going to be pulling the wounded out of the way, so they'll be the ones cleaning up any mess you make." Angel took a second to really stare at Spike. No way did Spike care about the soldiers, but Xander had the feeling Spike would protect all Riley's guys if that's what it took to keep him and Cordelia safe. No matter what Spike claimed, he was a giant softie when he cared about someone. Angel turned to the last three members of their team. "Doyle, Tor, Jerry, stay behind the four of us and focus on defense. Keep the demons off our backs."

Xander wasn't as sure about that bit of planning. Doyle looked pale with fear, and Tor was one of the Lister fathers and old enough to be Xander's grandfather. Xander would rather be doing the backing up himself, but he understood why he couldn't. Years ago, he'd called Angel an idiot for thinking he could be in a battle with someone he loved and not have something really bad happen. At the time, he had been trying to cleverly break Angel and Buffy up. But now Angel loved him, and Xander knew if he was in the middle of the battle, Angel would take stupid risks to protect him. Which all meant that Xander planned to actually stay in the rear.

Spike sighed heavily. "Peaches is a lot more fun ta hunt with when the rest of you aren't around," he complained. Moving to the side, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, watching from the corner of the building as the time ticked down.

"Spike, they can see you," Xander hissed.

"Yeah? I'm just a bloke on the corner smoking, so I'm not all that interesting unless I'm talking to the shadows in the alley."

Okay, that kinda made sense. Xander switched the hand his sword was in and flexed the fingers as he waited for the signal.

"You'll do fine," Graham whispered. "Hell, you're still better with a bladed weapon than I am, so you'll probably do better than I will."

"I won't let anything touch you, boyfriend," Faith said with a grin that promised murder and mayhem. "Besides, we're good at covering each other's backs." She shoulder bumped him and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Yep, she was ready for the fight.

Xander didn't feel nearly as ready as Faith. Then again, Faith and Graham patrolled about every night when Xander was safely tucked up in bed with a book on city wiring regs. The last time he'd been in a major fight had been graduation.

Back then, he'd done what he had to, but he was more than a little happy to have Angel making the decisions this time around. The deaths of every single person in that fight still weighed him down as much as the look of horror on Jesse's face when the stake pushed into his heart. There were nights that he could swear he saw Harmony's long, blonde hair, and he wished he could just turn back time and tell her to stay home. He should have done that the first time around because asking Harmony to fight was like encouraging a little corgi dog to go after a pit bull. Slightly guilt-inspiring. Xander was officially not cut out to be warrior-guy. Or he was not cut out to be leader-warrior-guy anyway. He was fix-it guy and moral-center guy and kick-in-the-ass guy when Angel put his head up his ass. And now he was covering the rear escape and pulling-the-injured-to-safety guy. He could do that.

A muffled blast startled Xander out of his thoughts, and he found himself running next to Cordelia. She had her short sword up, and an intense look on her face that made Xander suspect that demons would try to get through him before they challenged her.

Angel and Spike went through the hole first, flying through with supernatural grace, and Xander almost felt sorry for Graham who had to scramble over the broken bricks looking way more human than the other front line fighters. The Listers were stuck scrambling over the rubble too, so no supernatural grace and strength there, but Doyle demoned out and managed a single jump over the mess.

Riley's men were standing guard at the hole, so Xander ducked in through the smoke and braced himself for an attack as he went in. Cordelia was close behind him, and inside, he heard her softly say a very unladylike word she probably wouldn't admit to even knowing much less saying under normal circumstances.

The Scourge had brought in extra units after Riley's guys started playing 'poke and run' with the bad guys, but Xander hadn't expected this many. The Scourge were an army—a really ugly army. Sword clashed against swords, and Xander heard gunfire echoing through the enormous warehouse, so either the sharpshooters were choosing targets or Riley's guys were in deep, deep shit. A bleeding Scourge soldier in a uniform totally ripped off from some Nazi came stumbling toward them, and Xander disemboweled him with a quick thrust and retreat move. Not pretty or fancy, but so very effective.

Spike leaped up above the crowd, his face shining with glee, and his body moving with inhuman grace that reminded Xander of a really playful tiger. He landed, and half a second later, a Scourge soldier was flying over the entire melee, his arms flailing before he slammed into one of the metal catwalks and then fell back to the ground.

"Soldier down," Cordelia called. Xander brought his sword up and ran next to her as she aimed for one of Riley's guys. He was down on the ground emptying his gun into the belly of a Scourge who was about to decapitate him.

"Hey, pick on someone who knows which weapon to use." She thrust forward with her sword, and it wasn't a half-bad move. Unfortunately, the Scourge was better than half-good. He knocked her sword to the side, but Xander used the opening to shove his sword deep into the guy's underarm. He started gurgling up blood, and Cordy held out her arm. The injured solder grabbed hold, and Cordelia pulled him backwards while Xander covered them both.

The fight was slowly turning from one giant free-for-all into a number of smaller fights, and Xander caught of glimpse of Faith whirling and kicking her way through a clump of Scourge, Graham at her side, only without the kicking and whirling and more with the straight hacking at enemy arms with his sword. Cordy got the wounded guy to the blasted opening, and the medics claimed him from there, and then the two of them were, once again, stuck watching the action and waiting to see if any more of their own would fall. Xander was just trying really hard to not think about how easy it would be for one of the Scourge to stake their vampires. Technically, a stake to the heart would be just as deadly for Graham or Faith, but Xander found himself searching the warehouse for Angel and Spike.

A bubble of power swept through the building, and Xander screamed as he saw Angel lifted and thrown across the room. Xander hadn't even opened his mouth to call out for someone to help him before the sound of other screams filled the air. The remaining Scourge members clawed at themselves, their skin sliding down off their bodies like melting wax figures.

Xander brought his sword up defensively and spun around, searching for an enemy. That's when he noticed Spike springing up from the ground where something had thrown him, snarling at the air. One Scourge member exploded into little hard chunks that ricocheted off the walls.

"Faith!" Graham's call made Xander spin around again, and Faith was on the floor, her arms up over her head like someone was hitting her. Graham was spinning around like he was searching for an enemy to fight. He had his sword held high, and he'd pulled his gun out, but he couldn't seem to find anything to shoot at or stab. Xander made quick eye contact with Cordelia, who made 'go-go' gestures with her hand. Xander ran to cover them. Another Scourge exploded, and Xander yelped as a chunk of demon caught him on the shoulder and stung like when the baseball team would throw balls at Xander instead of to him during P.E.

Luckily, Angel was up again and looking a little Angelusy, but now Xander noticed Doyle lying silent on the floor, a pool of blood spreading out from his head. "Doyle!" Xander called, changing course mid-dash. Another Scourge exploded and then a series of them went up at once, showering the warehouse with hard little chunks of demon that hurt like hell when they hit. Xander threw himself over Doyle and tried to defend the injured man and cover his own head.

"Medic! Medic!" Xander looked up at Riley's call, and Riley was shielding Buffy, who was sitting on the ground looking confused and glassy-eyed. Riley yelled loud enough that his voice carried, even over the last pings as the chunks of Scourge hit the inside walls and fell to the concrete. All around, Xander was surrounded by chunks of grayish charcoal that had been the Scourge army, and he pulled his jacket down over his hand before he shoved the nearest pieces away.

"Um, needing medic more for bleeding man!" Xander called out as he waved his arm. There really didn't seem to be anyone left to threaten with a sword, so he was a little more worried about Doyle bleeding out his ears.

"Help me." The pained cry came from near the weapon, and Xander looked over. Tor was trying to push himself up from the floor, but he was bleeding badly. A soldier with a medic bag ran to his side, but Tor was already starting to shake, his head snapping back and then forward, flinging blood across the concrete.

"He's seizing. I need a stretcher!" The soldier got his hands around Tor's shoulders and moved him over to his back as a second soldier ran over with a backpack that he was already unfolding into a stretcher.

"Oi, he's about to blow," Spike called, but the two medics ignored him. One man laid his own body over Tor to hold him down through the seizures while the other snapped the stretcher together. Xander watched in horror as Tor's head imploded with a pop. Grey and red bits from his head splattered in a tight circle, hitting the two medics. The medics jerked back, and Xander threw up on the floor next to Doyle. "Bloody warned you," Spike said. "This one already blew. Hey, you lot, Doyle is still breathin'."

Xander felt hands on him and he just allowed himself to be pulled away as the medics quickly moved to Doyle, attaching IV lines and a breathing mask before they even wiped Tor's blood off their faces. Xander's throat burned, and his stomach started heaving again. Strong hands supported him, holding him as he threw up yellow bile on a small pile of Scourge charcoal. "Doyle?" Xander wiped his mouth and carefully didn't look in Tor's direction. He wasn't surprised to hear Angel's voice right behind him. Who else would hold him when he was vomiting, and if that wasn't love, what was?

"He's still breathing. He doesn't sound as bad as the Listers," Angel said quietly. Then again, Xander couldn't imagine being worse than the Listers.

"I need help with Faith," Graham called out.

"I'm fine." Faith was answering, but even Xander could tell she didn't sound fine. She sounded shaky, and Faith did not do shaky. She made others shake.

Before a medic could get to her, Spike was there on one knee beside her. A medic and his bag came up, and Spike stopped the guy from coming any closer by pointing a sword at the guy's guts. "You soddin' leave her alone. Got it?" Spike demanded.

"She needs help," Graham reached out and caught Spike's sword arm. For a very long second, Xander held his breath as he waited for Spike to backhand Graham into the middle of next week, but instead Spike actually tolerated him, although he didn't lower his sword and the medic backed away, his hands held up to show that he didn't plan to fight over this. The other two medics were carrying Doyle out, and the third guy hurried after them.

"If she needs help, we bloody get her help, but I'm not letting one of them anywhere near her. Did anyone else notice what direction that attack came from?"

"I did." Angel's arms were still around Xander, and now they tightened. Xander looked around in confusion. Riley was still sitting on the floor next to a dazed Buffy, but as Giles came over to sit next to her, he got up and moved toward the center of the warehouse.

"What are you saying?" Riley asked.

"Just said it, mate. That definitely came from your lot, and seeing as how it took out all the demons, you're dense as pig shite if you can't figure out who did it."

"Oh goddess." Willow whispered the words, but in the silence of the warehouse, her voice was unmistakable. "Oh goddess, no. No."

Xander felt the arms around him shift, and then Angel moved forward, his sword held down by his side. "Cordelia, get over here," Angel said quietly. Cordelia was standing near two soldiers, and she frowned in confusion. "Now." Whatever Cordy had going through her mind, she obviously decided to not piss off the already pissed off vampire.

"Geez, alright. But seriously, if they killed the Lister men, I want a chance to poke someone really hard before you go eviscerating them." Cordy sounded all together, but her eyes were puffy and her mascara was streaked sideways from her wiping her eyes with that weird under-eye move that was supposed to keep her eye makeup from running. Xander guessed that not even Cordelia's tricks could save her makeup when she cried that hard. Spike moved to the side so that he was standing in front of her.

"Just help me up," Faith said, her voice still shaky. Xander was even more freaked out about the fact that Graham had to practically lift her. But she was still one up on Buffy who was still sitting on the floor beside Giles not even trying to get up.

"Captain! Kirkop is injured, too," one of the soldiers called.

"I'm fine," Kirkop said in an unhappy voice, but Xander could see red trails up his arms and his neck and even his face, like he had hundreds of tiny broken blood vessels.

"That shouldn't have happened," Willow said, and Xander's stomach turned to stone as he looked over at her.

"Willow? What do you mean?" Giles demanded before Xander could get past the horrible sinking stomach feeling enough to ask the same question. Giles got up from the floor, and Willow's hands fluttered.

"Giles, let's take this somewhere private." Jenny stepped to his side, her hand resting on his arm.

"Let's not," Angel suggested.

"I agree." Riley turned around so his back was to Angel and he crossed his arms as he considered Jenny and Giles. "Kirkop, get to the medics."

"Sir, I'm fine. I'd rather stay here." Xander watched as Kirkop turned to face Giles and Jenny who had drifted closer to Willow and Tara, and this was not feeling good. This was feeling bad. Freaky bad.

"Dead bad guys is reason to celebrate," Buffy argued. "Yeah, the chunks were a surprise. But hey, at least the Scourge made nice messless chunks." However, she had to use the wall to push herself up, so her cheeriness felt a little forced. She stood leaning against the wall, and Xander cringed as he watched her struggle to stay upright.

"Willow, what do you mean that this shouldn't have happened?" Giles turned around and went back to Buffy, getting his arm around her waist.

"I..." She stopped and looked around with wide eyes full of panic. Xander could feel himself pulled toward that desperation. Whatever she'd done, she hadn't meant to... he knew that. She had on her really, really sorry face, but at the same time, two bloody bodies lay on the ground with their heads exploded. The Listers hadn't deserved to die.

"What did you do?" Angel growled.

"Nothing!" she blurted. She turned around to look at Jenny, and Xander realized that Jenny's face had lost all expression.

"Willow, let's go out to the car," Jenny said firmly.

"Jenny?" Giles sounded bewildered, which was not a tone of voice Xander normally associated with Giles.

"Rupert, we can talk about this later." She gave him a tight smile.

Buffy spoke up. "Oh, I'm starting to think we can talk now. Or you can talk now, I’m just going to stand here and fade in and out of consciousness."

"Buffy?" Willow hurried to her side, getting her own arm around Buffy's waist so Buffy was propped up between Willow and Giles. "Jenny, this wasn't supposed to happen."

"What wasn't supposed to happen?" Giles almost yelled.

Willow jerked like he'd hit her, and Giles sighed. Xander started to step forward, but Angel caught him by the arm and pulled him back. When Xander turned to glare Angel into letting him go, he failed miserably because Angel just pulled him closer.

Giles sighed again. "Willow, what happened to the Scourge?"

Willow's gaze immediately went to Jenny, but she just raised her chin and said nothing. Xander noticed several of the soldiers shifting uncomfortably, and hands were starting to come to rest on the butts of guns.

"So," Angel said softly, "you used one of the spells you'd prepared against demons."

Xander looked up to see if Angel was attempting some wildly inappropriate humor. Sometimes Angel's attempts at humor were definitely lacking any humor. However, there was not much of the haha in his expression. "Spells? Against demons? Friendly demons?"

Kirkop held up his arm where a spiderweb of red veins looked distinctly unhealthy. "You did this?" He looked from Willow to Jenny. "My grandmother always said her father was part odmience—a Polish changeling. I always thought she just liked to tell stories about the old country, but I guess your spell hit more than just the bad guys. And those two were on our side." He swept his hand toward the two Lister bodies, but Xander was not going to look at them again.

"Willow, I'd like a clear answer," Giles said, and Xander was starting to get whiplash from all the demands. However, it looked like whatever weird was going on, Giles and Riley and Buffy had all been unlooplike. Even Tara was looking a little shocked, and that was whole levels of wrong because in the last couple of weeks, Xander had come to think that Willow and Tara were ridiculously in love.

"I didn't do anything." Willow sounded close to crying.

"Mr. Giles," Tara's voice was barely above a whisper, "WWillow didn't cast the spell. Her power was tapped, and whoever cast it pulled on my powers through Willow, but Willow didn't cast it." Okay, for not naming names, that accusation was pretty much pointed right at Jenny.

Willow was already nodding her head at Tara. "I wouldn't cast a spell like that. Angel and Spike could have been all dusty, and I wouldn't do that. Okay, I might do that to Spike because he's soulless and dangerous and really scary, but I wouldn't do that to Angel. He's Xander's best friend, and it really hurts to say that because I know I messed things all up between us, but I wouldn't kill Angel. He has a soul. And Xander gets all googly eyed when Angel comes in the room and there's touching... like they care about each other too much to not touch kind of touching. I wouldn't have ever killed Angel." Willow looked over toward the bodies of the two fallen Listers and tears slipped down her face. "I wouldn't have ever killed them. Tor was really nice," Willow finished with a sob, and Tara hurried to her side.

Xander watched while Giles' back grew stiffer, and he really thought Giles was about to give Willow the motherload of all father-lectures, but then Giles turned toward Jenny. "What did you do?"

"Rupert, this is not the time."

"Actually, I believe it is."

"Hey, I have an idea. Let's just all calm down," Buffy suggested. Willow nodded, tears running down her face.

"We can discuss this in private." Jenny had backed all the way up to the door, which had been blasted open, but Willow and Tara and Giles and Buffy weren't moving. They were all huddled together, supporting Buffy in the middle.

Giles' face got that scary lack of emotion thing going. "Do you think I don't recognize the signature of chaos magic? Are you quite mad? Techno-magic and chaos magic are incompatible. You could have killed us all. And your foolish willingness to cast spells willy nilly has injured Buffy."

"Riley?" Buffy turned her eyes to him. "Help please? I'm not really good at doing the calming people down thing. I'm better at making them mad, but maybe you can play peacekeeper."

Riley stiffened, but he didn't jump in there and start calming people down. "Giles, is Buffy hurt badly?"

"Yes, Giles," Angel said, his voice dangerously soft and lilting with an Irish accent, "are the slayers injured badly?"

"I won't know until I know what spell she used." Giles looked right at Angel without even glancing over toward Jenny, and Xander was thinking that was not a good sign for their marriage. Jenny was slowly turning a pink color, and he thought she was probably getting pretty pissed because she didn't seem the type to be embarrassed.

"It was out of de Aldedelega's Opprimo," Willow whispered. From the silence that fell over the magic-knowing crowd, Xander was guessing that was not of the good. "We found the book in Mr. Rayne's things after he tried to put the forgetting on you before the wedding. But it was only supposed to affect demons, not you, Buffy."

Spike started laughing, and the soldiers shifted nervously. Heck, Xander was nervous because an attack like that probably had Spike itching to taste Jenny's blood, and right now, Xander wouldn't bet any money on Angel stopping him. The laughter was just pretty much reminding all of them that you really couldn't predict what a pissed off Spike might do. "You bloody idiot. Slayers are faster, stronger and heal better than humans. How the fuck do you think that happens without a little demon blood in 'em? Considering how much harder the spell hit them than good old Kirkop there, I guess they're more than an eighth demon and since their heads didn't explode, they're less than half."

"Oh goddess." Willow looked like she was turning green, and Buffy turned to stare at Giles with big eyes.

Instead of answering, Giles looked like he was wilting, and now Riley moved and he moved fast. He got his left arm under Buffy, holding her up with one hand, and his other hand rested on the butt of his gun. The other soldiers were shifting around. If Xander were the suspicious sort, he'd think they were clearing a line of fire toward Jenny. Oh yeah, this was turning so very, very bad.

"I think I want to sit," Buffy said. Graham had Faith in his arms, and her head was resting against his shoulder, so Xander was guessing she couldn't lift it because if Buffy could still sit up on her own, Faith would be fighting like hell to prove she was no worse off than Buffy. Riley carefully settled Buffy on the ground, and several soldiers moved closer. Kirkop actually pulled the strap on his big gun around so that it hung in front where he could rest his elbow on it and glare. Considering that Kirkop had a slightly dark Neanderthal look going for him, he had the scary glare down pretty good. It was going even better with his veiny skin, which made him look a little like a comic book villain. Jenny, however, kept her chin high and still managed to look like she was not-even-doubting-herself girl.

"The first priority was ensuring that the Beacon was not fired. I acted in the best interests of the group. They were going to activate the Beacon."

"I had sharpshooters assigned to prevent that." Oh yeah, Riley sounded pissed.

"It was chaotic. One of the Scourge was going to—"

A soldier with one of those monster guns stepped forward. He was an older man and had a look that would have made Xander avoid dark alleys with him. For two weeks Xander had been living and training with these guys, and Xander would have described most of them as goofy, silly, crass, or overly competitive. Now they all just looked dangerous... and pissed. There was lots of pissed going on. "Lady, I was doing my job, and I didn't even have to worry about refugees darting through my target zone, so that Beacon was covered."

"You couldn't..."

Riley cut her off. "An exploding shell in the head would have stopped any Scourge that got close to the Beacon, but you made a unilateral decision to activate your own version of a Beacon. You chose to selectively attack my unit."

"I targeted the enemy." Jenny looked around, and maybe she noticed the suddenly hard expression on Giles' face. "Rupert, I didn't know this would affect Buffy. You have to believe that. I would never do anything to hurt Buffy or Willow—they're our family."

No one answered her, and Xander could almost smell the homicidal rage in the air. He definitely could smell the dead Listers and his own vomit, and that was doing bad, bad things to his stomach and his psyche, so he definitely didn't need any more dead bodies around.

Looking around at the group, Xander tried putting on his best pleading expression. "Okay, I know I'm not strategy man but attacking your own side is feeling unstrategy, so can we all agree that Jenny stupid and head back to the hotel?"

Xander eeped as Angel turned around and grabbed him, pulling him close before he turned to face the Sunnydale crew. "She's na welcome in my home. You set foot in my territory again and you'll learn what real pain is," he promised in a voice that gave Xander chills. That was Angelus. That was pure Angelus, and Spike stepped forward, his glee shining through as he bounced on his toes. This wasn't even going to be a fight, it was going to be two really big, pissed off demons ripping Jenny into little tiny shreds, and Xander wasn't sure how to stop it. Even worse, Xander wasn't sure he wanted to stop it, and that did not exactly make him a good person.

Jenny pulled a small satchel out from a pocket, and a dozen soldiers had their guns drawn before Xander could blink. It was feeling more and more like the OK corral, and Xander really wished he'd paid more attention in history class because he couldn't even remember if anyone came out of that alive.

Giles stepped forward into the empty territory between Jenny and everyone else. "You need to leave."

"Rupert." Jenny smiled and tilted her head to the side as she reached out her empty hand for him. Giles just stood there as her smile faded and her hand slowly dropped back down to the side. She looked around, but she obviously did not find whatever she was looking for because the emotion drained from her face. Willow was standing in the corner, her face buried in Tara's shoulder as she sobbed, and the soldiers were looking about as homicidal as Spike and Angel, and that was pretty homicidal.

"Jenny, go back to Sunnydale." Giles was using the teacher voice that Xander used to hate.

"I made a choice to save all of us."

"You made a choice," Giles agreed. For a second, they stared at each other, and then Jenny backed up, her hand still clutching that satchel she'd taken out of her pocket. Xander's arm was starting to tingle from Angel's overly-tight hold, but he didn't complain. He felt like one wrong breath and Angel and Spike were going to go racing out into the night and do something that Xander only kinda sorta wanted done. And if they did it... if they ripped Jenny Giles' throat out, Xander just knew he was going to end up in therapy again. He was approaching therapy levels of badness already, and he just couldn't deal with any more.

"Wait," Xander blurted as the obvious suddenly hit him. "You and Spike are okay. You are, right?" Xander squirmed around until he could get a good look at all of Angel. He hadn't worn the Gem of Amara, and Xander made a mental note to make Angel wear it from now on, even if he had to shove it up Angel's ass. Delayed panic made Xander's heart pound so hard that it physically hurt.

"Calm down," Angel soothed him, pulling him close while Xander ran hands over Angel's shoulders and chest looking for burns or injuries. "Calm down, a mhuirnín, we're fine," Angel promised, catching one of Xander's hands and holding it still. "Graham warned us that Jenny and Willow were practicing dangerous magics, and we had a counterspell done. I'm only sorry that I didn't think to protect the rest of you, and for that, she will die if I ever catch her in L.A. again." Angel looked over Xander's shoulder and glared at Giles, but surprisingly, Giles didn't have any sharp comments to throw back.

"Right then," Spike said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, "that leaves one bad little witchy."

"Hold on there," Buffy said, but her warning would have probably carried more weight if she had the strength to stand. She didn't. "Tara already said that Willow didn't cast the spell."

"She just helped create it, didn't you pet?" Spike had his friendly voice going, the one that usually led to bad, bad things, and the two people who could actually stop him, Cordelia and Angel, were just watching silently.

Willow looked up from Tara's shoulder. "It was supposed to be a last resort. Like if we were fighting the mayor and the explosives didn't work. It's a really, really dangerous spell, and Jenny said we would only activate it if we didn't have any choice. I never would have...." Willow's eyes skittered over to one of the Lister men, and her sobs cut off her words.

"Yes, that doesn't absolve you of all responsibility." Giles sounded tired. "However, given your relationship with Jenny, I can certainly see how she was able to convince you to prepare such a dangerous spell."

"Bloody hell, you think that's enough?" Spike demanded. "She soddin' well helped prepare the spell and she provided the power to attack Faith. If you're not willing to discipline her, I bloody well will."

"I hardly think that's appropriate," Giles squared off, but Xander was not calling that a fair fight. Yeah, Giles had more to him than tweed, but without some sort of backup, Giles was going down, down, down, and Angel didn't look interesting in stopping the fight. Xander opened his mouth to object, but Angel's fingers dug into the soft of his arm so hard that Xander gasped in surprise and pain.

"So appropriate is letting her get away with murder?" Angel asked. "Two men who wanted nothing more than to protect their families are dead."

"That's a horror Jenny will have to live with," Giles said firmly.

"But Willow lied," Riley interrupted the stare down.

"Riley," Buffy said in a not-too-subtle warning voice.

"No, Buffy, she lied, and we both know it. After the anti-vampire spell Jenny suggested, we asked if they had other ideas for aggressive magical spells, and they both assured us that they did not, yet they've been working on this since shortly after Ethan Rayne's arrest."

"Hey, it's not like we always made the best judgments under fire. I'm the one who set a gym on fire, and you had that whole incident with the truck and the payroll and the mudslide. Let he who is without a history of major stupidity throw the first mudball." Buffy sounded way more serious than usual, but Riley stood up and turned to Willow.

"Willow, I'm sorry, but this sort of conduct is not within the scope of my command authority. This has to go up to the Army JAG office."

"You're arresting me?" Willow sounded ready to hyperventilate, and Xander squirmed in Angel's arms. He didn't want Willow arrested. He just wanted her to be really sorry and never do anything like that again, and she was sorry. He could tell from the look on her face that she was chocolate-chip-cookie-making sorry.

"Riley, as scare tactics go, this is a good one, but enough is enough." Buffy was sounding cranky.

Riley crouched down next to her. "Buffy, I love you, but I'm a soldier. I know from experience that we make choices in battle that... that can haunt us. And if we know we will never have to account for our actions, we can end up on a slippery slope that will lead to a psychologically dangerous place. I’m not saying Willow is culpable for the murders. I'm saying she needs to stand in front of a JAG court and make her arguments. These are soldiers. They'll understand the pressures of command, and they'll understand that I bear some of the responsibility for this because I never insisted that Willow take the combat ethics courses, even when it was increasingly obvious that she was developing into a frontline fighter."

Giles moved to stand in front of Willow, and he was clearly not planning to budge. "Now see here. This is not the military, and we have not been drafted into your army."

"Then she can face accessory to murder charges in the FISA court. The government is quite clear that demonic activity falls under the jurisdiction of the Foreign Intelligence act."

"Buffy?" Willow clung to Tara, but she looked at Buffy.

"Willow," Riley said as he got up and walked over to her, "I doubt they'll sentence you to anything more than taking the classes I should have required you to take in the first place. But if you ignore your responsibility in this tragedy, can you honestly promise to never make a mistake like this again? You allowed an attack that has disabled Buffy for who knows how long, and if Angel hadn't prepared for a betrayal that I never saw coming, you would have dusted Angel and Spike. You know Xander never would have forgiven you if that had happened, not even if this was a mistake."

Willow hiccupped from crying so hard. "But arrested?" Willow turned to Tara. Her eyes were red, and tears started slipping down her face, but she didn't say anything.

Riley rested a hand on Willow's shoulder. "A review board, Willow. If Buffy told you about my first big failure, she told you that I managed to dump half a payroll into a swollen river, and this was a field operation, so the money was in local currency. A hundred soldiers were fishing the river for the last Treasury bag for a month, and I had to go in front of a review. It was a miserable experience, but I survived, and I'm glad I faced my own mistakes. I will speak for you, as will everyone else here. You made a mistake in following Jenny, but I don't believe you're responsible. I just know that I don't have the authority to make that decision legally. Your actions led to two friendly fire deaths, do you really think you should walk away without facing any consequences?"

Without answering, Willow turned her face back to Tara's shoulder and cried. Riley sighed and turned to face a very pissed off Giles. "Jenny Giles has the same choice. Unlike Willow, she is a government employee acting in a military action. She can go before a JAG review board voluntarily, or I will arrest her under the authority of the FISA court."

"How dare—" Giles started to say.

"You didn't object to the laws when I used them to arrest Mr. Rayne for his attack. This isn't open for debate," Riley said. Xander was impressed. Yeah, Xander had stood up to Giles before, but when Xander did it, he always felt like he was some kid. Riley came out looking way more collected and in-charge than Giles. Of course, if Buffy were up and walking around, Xander suspected that Riley wouldn't have been quite so large and in-charge, but without the spell-attack, Riley wouldn't have needed to take charge.

"If he doesn't make her face her actions, I will take my own justice," Angel said, and the Irish lilt was still there. Giles looked over wearily, and maybe he knew he was defeated or maybe he was just too tired to argue, but he didn't have anything to say about that.

"We need to get Faith somewhere quiet," Graham said. Xander turned, and Graham had put her back on the floor at some point. Her head was in his lap and he was smoothing her hair back from her forehead.

"Right then, we're out of here." Spike walked over, scooped Faith up in his arms and headed for the blast hole they'd walked in through.

"I want to know what spell was cast, and I want that information by sunrise or I'll start asking the questions m'self, boyo." Angel pinned Riley with a cold glare, but Riley just nodded his head.

"Understood. I'll make sure we both have the information we need." Riley went back and knelt down next to Buffy, slipping his hand behind her neck. For a second, Buffy looked at him with all this unhappiness, but then she sighed and let him pull her close.

"What a mess," she said softly, and that was the last thing Xander saw before Angel pulled him out into the night... or Angelus did. Xander was starting to think that perfect happiness and perfect pissedoffness both brought out the great soulless one.

Chapter 24

"Hey, Harry," Xander offered as he walked into the kitchen. Doyle's ex was looking a little frazzled, but Doyle was the worst of their walking wounded, and she got Angel-levels of guilt going whenever she left him for more than ten minutes at a stretch, so he wasn't surprised.

"Evening, Xander. How's Faith feeling?" she asked in that tone of voice that meant she wasn't actually listening.

Xander paused with his hand on the refrigerator handle. "I wouldn't know. Everything is 'fine' this and 'five by five' that."

"Ah." Harry nodded, either because she recognized denial or she still wasn't listening.

"So, how about Doyle?" Xander asked.

She stopped halfway through loading her tray with the last of some sliced pickles. "He's definitely not downplaying the pain, but he'll be fine. I hope. He's better about going into his Brachen form, which helps the headaches. He's not getting worse," she answered in a disjointed tumble of words.

"No rush," Cordelia said, looking up from the newspaper. "The army is paying full price for your rooms, so you're welcome to stay for the next year."

That made Harry smile. "That's tempting, especially given the variety of demons you have visiting, but I have my own life and a long-term study of a Molfa clan that I need to get back to just as soon as Doyle is okay." She carefully didn't mention the same thing that all of them weren't mentioning—the fact that the weakness did not seem to be passing. Even the whole Listers deciding Doyle was their chosen one who had summoned an army hadn't cheered him up much. And Faith hadn't asked to go out and slay anything, which was freaking Xander out big time. Faith not wanting to slay was one of the signs of the apocalypse, and Xander had already been through one of those. Two if you counted the Master, who had turned out to be a bit of a disappointment on the apocalyptic front.

"When you leave, do you plan to take Doyle with you?" Cordy asked. Yep, leave it to Cordy to bypass all manners and worrying and go straight for the juicy stuff. The juicy distracting stuff. Xander was starting to think that Cordelia's inadvertent changing of the topic was slightly more advertent than not.

Harry put down the empty pickle jar and frowned. "He's going to have to decide whether or not he fits into my life because I can't keep trying to fit into his."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Men are stupid, and demons more than most. You have to come right out and set the rules. That's what I did with Spike and before that Xander, and that's what Xander had to do with Angel."

"Not really the rule-setting man here," Xander pointed out. If he was, he would definitely be having sex, but no, Angel was all self-denial man and insisted on waiting the full month. Of course, now that they were three days away from the deadline, Xander spent half his time not wanting sex because he was too worried. If his hand could complain, it would be griping about his lack of interest in sex. He had the only sock puppet of love with inadequacy issues. The other half of the time, he was so tied up in knots and excited that he didn't care if he did suck... he wanted to have sex now. Yep, he was embracing his many, many issues.

Cordelia rolled her eyes at him. "Oh please, you have him wrapped around your finger. You just don't know how to reel him in. You obviously were not paying attention when I modeled that skill."

"And people wonder why the three hundred year old master vampire doesn't scare me. I dated her. That was scary," Xander pointed out. Cordelia just made a little huffing noise.

Harry shook her head and laughed. "Is there anyone here who hasn't slept together?"

"Oh please," Cordelia said without looking up, "like he ever got that far."

Harry just shook her head. "The culture in this hotel is enough to write an entire book on."

"Blair said that, but he made is sound less like an insult," Xander observed. Harry blushed, and Xander bit his lip as he realized that probably didn't come out right.

"I didn't—" Harry started to say.

"Xander's an idiot. Ignore everything he says," Cordelia cut her off. She also gave Xander a look that would have killed most lesser life forms.

"Well, I just wouldn't want to offend, especially with everyone on edge." Harry lifted the plate she had fixed. "I should take Doyle his dinner." With that, she retreated, her plate full of a weird combination of cauliflower, Hersey's kisses and pickles. Maybe it was a Bracken-demon thing Doyle had asked for.

Turning away from Cordelia's death glare, Xander started digging through the refrigerator for food. Since the soldiers had come and gone, the shopping budget from Cordy had improved, but Graham was the one who did most of the shopping, and he rarely left Faith's side. It meant they were getting down to the questionable, demonic, and downright-healthy food. A white Styrofoam container was marked with "Enné-Demon Only" in block letters, and Xander pulled it out. It looked suspiciously like barbeque pork.

"What is enné and will it kill me?"

Cordelia looked up from her paper. "If you don't know what it is, it probably won't."

"It's a choice between that or tofu burgers out of the freezer, so I'm going with enné," Xander said as he pulled a fork out of a drawer and poked at the food for a little bit. They'd had one demon guest who insisted on eating eggs just about to hatch into big maggoty things, so he just wanted to make sure the food wasn't going to break out in maggots. "Are Spike and Angel back?" The food seemed to be acting like food, so Xander took a bite. It was a little peppery, but it could pass for barbeque as long as someone wasn't too picky. From the way Cordelia stared at him, he was guessing that he was eating meat from a slug monster or something, but that was still better than tofu. He had standards. Low standards, but standards. And tofu was too low on the edible totem-pole for even him to eat.

"Not yet," she eventually answered. "Spike called, and they have some new lead, but they have to come back to the hotel first."

Xander shoved another forkful of enné in his mouth and dropped into the chair across from Cordelia. Even she was feeling the stress because she hadn't been dropping the little hints about how they needed more help at the hotel. Before the Scourge and the battle and Jenny's spell, Xander and Graham had bet Graham's best knife against an afternoon of Xander's remodeling skills that Cordelia was going to make Angel hire someone. Graham thought maid, Xander was voting for something weirdly unpredictable. But now... now she wasn't even dropping hints. Mostly she stared at newspapers pretending to read them. Yep, they were all a little freaked out. Graham paced, Faith laid around, Doyle complained and Xander didn't know what he was supposed to do. He shoved more enné in his mouth.

"Oh, and the little bitch whose stupidity almost got my lover killed, a mistake for which I would have killed her, called."

"Willow?" Xander asked, perking up a bit. Cordelia was having a little more trouble forgiving than Xander was, which seemed a little unfair because Cordy knew how much Willow wanted to please her teachers, so it really did seem more fair to blame Jenny. Xander could get behind the Jenny-hate.

"Isn't that what I just said?" Cordelia looked up at him, and it was pretty clear she was nowhere near forgiving Willow. Either that or she was so not happy about Faith being sick that she was just willing to blame everyone involved. Maybe if Riley could find and arrest Jenny, Cordelia would shift some of the hate over to the right person. "I told her that she needed to call early enough that all the little vamps would still be in bed because if Angel picks up the phone, he's going to come up and rip her throat out and I'm not going to stop him."

"Cordelia! If she calls earlier, I'll be at school and I'll miss her. Did it occur to you that maybe I'd want to talk to her? "

"Yes. Don't care," Cordelia answered. "Besides, Angel does not need to hear that Riley is working with her defense team. Angel gets all soul-light whenever someone mentions Willow, and I don't want to deal with him getting a grrrr over the fact that the military is going to slap Willow on the wrist and make her take classes on battlefield ethics." Cordelia made a disgusted noise and turned the page on her newspaper. "So, if she wants to apologize and grovel and brag about how she isn't going to jail for the rest of her life where she'd end up as someone's bitch... if she wants to then blubber like she doesn't care what that does to her complexion, she can do it when Angel's still asleep. "

"You seem to know a lot for someone who didn't have a long supportive conversation." Xander had to struggle not to smile.

"Whatever. She's just going through a masochistic phase, and I am so very willing to verbally abuse her."

"Uh huh," Xander said, not even pretending to believe it. Cordy rolled her eyes and refused to answer. They both fell silent. Xander hadn't realized how much Faith's energy and Cordelia's and Spike's complaints had filled up the hotel. Now Cordy was all quiet, and Spike was always out trying to beat an answer out of someone and Faith way lying around pretending she was okay, and the hotel felt about a million times too big for them.

The swinging door slammed open and Spike came through the kitchen. "Any new problems, luv?" he asked, heading straight for the refrigerator. The side of his face was rusty colored, like it had been cut open and bled a whole lot, so Xander was guessing the questions had gotten nasty again. Either that, or Spike was so frustrated that he and Angel had a good bout of fighting and then sex before they came home smelling like sewer. Xander could feel a twinge of jealousy at that. Not the sewer part, of course.

"Just the same old ones," Cordelia said as she put the paper down. "Please tell me you actually found something this time."

Spike turned with a wicked smile that gave Xander the first bit of hope he'd felt for days. "Bloody right, luv. Have a lead on some bookish type that keeps track of spells in the area. According to a demon who had good reason to believe giving me bad intel could be soddin' hazardous to his health, this old git might be able to steer us right." He emptied two blood packets into a mug before sticking it in the microwave and setting the timer. When he walked over to Cordelia, he reached out and ran the back of his fingers over her cheek reverently. "Goin' to get things set right, you watch," he promised. Cordelia reached up and caught his hand, holding it for a second, as she looked up. For one blinding second, the fear was there in every inch of her face, and Spike reached down to cup her cheek with his free hand. Then the moment passed and she slipped back into an annoyed expression.

"Do you have to go walking through the sewers?"

"Unless I plan ta be a flaming ball of dust, yeah. You can teach me a good lesson later." Spike wiggled his eyebrows at her before he went back for his blood. Cordelia raised just one eyebrow in a way that made her look like the horribly mean teacher they'd had in sixth grade. Even now, Xander was almost certain the teacher had been a vampire or a demon or at the very least, a soulless human being, and Cordy could do a pretty mean impression of soullessness when she put her mind to it.

"Bloody hell, what are you eating?" Spike spun around and stared at Xander's dinner.

"Enné."

Spike looked over at Cordy and smirked. "I'm a bad influence on you, I am."

"Oh please. I was cruel long before you," Cordy said with a sniff. "Besides, I warned him. I even put 'demon only' on the container, but he's so demonfied that he thought it meant him."

"Hey, it was tofu or enné, and I have my standards."

"You do know what that is, right?" Spike got a look on his face that made it pretty clear he was about to make up some outrageous and disgusting story. Knowing Spike, two seconds after Xander gave up the enné, Spike would eat it. That would be just like him.

"The slimy innards of some slimy monster? Or maybe you can come up with a better story." Xander had the fork halfway to his mouth just to prove that Spike's teasing no longer worked, and then Angel walked in. His fork paused midair. Angel was so freaking out. His hair was still damp from the shower and chunks of it were going every which way, which would normally be a major issue with Angel. He just totally ignored the fact that he had some serious ugly going on as he went straight for the refrigerator. He didn't even heat his blood after dumping it in a mug. For a second, the kitchen was silent as they all watched Angel.

"I was going to say the gonads of a demon beastie stewed in its own ejaculate." Spike didn't even pretend to have his heart in the teasing. "Right then, you ready ta play head of the clan?" Spike asked Angel.

Angel downed the last of his blood and slammed the mug down so hard that the counter grew red freckles as the last of the blood splattered. "Yes." Angel looked over at him. "You need to change."

"You're the one playin' head of the clan and talking to the wanker. I'm just the charmin' and handsome enforcer. No one will care if I smell like I've been walking around in the sewers all afternoon looking for a chance to rip someone's spine out through their navel."

"I care. Change." Angel definitely had his 'not-joking' voice going.

"Hey, I'm going with you two," Xander said. He dropped the enné on his fork back into the container and ran to put it back in the fridge. From the cranky look on Angel's face, he was about to argue. "With you and Spike both playing 'bad cop,' you need someone to play goofy sidekick 'good cop' or all your 'bad cop' will go to waste."

Angel's frown deepened.

"Pet, this git is a real traditionalist. Might be best if you stayed home," Spike suggested, but Spike was not the boss of him. Spike was not even the boss of himself when Cordelia and Angel were around, so Xander turned to Angel with his best pleading expression.

"I don't have class tonight, and I can't just sit around and watch Doyle and Faith be sick. Come on, you've been crawling through sewers all day instead of waiting until dark like all the good little vampires, so I know that you know how I feel."

That hit the target. Angel cringed a bit and looked over at Spike. They had some sort of weird non-talking vibe thing where they did Morse code by eyebrow or something because after a second, Angel sighed like someone had just talked him into something he really didn't want to do.

"According to a few well placed sources, Prusha tracks every spell in the area, but he doesn't have much use for humans. If we go in there, he wants to meet the head of the Aurelius clan." Angel was clearly apologizing.

"So, you're playing big, bad Angelus. And Spike..." Xander looked over. "Spike is pretty much always big and bad." Spike practically preened under that observation. "So again, you're left with no 'good cop' to your 'bad cop'."

"Prusha won't want to see you playing 'cop' at all. You're human." Angel reached out and rested a hand on Xander's shoulder. Xander could practically feel Angel's need to get Xander to stay home, only Xander had done entirely too much of nothing already. One more day of doing nothing while Faith insisted she was fine without ever getting out of her bed and Doyle groaned like the near-dead, and he was going to climb a wall. Several walls.

"Faith is my friend," Xander said quietly. For a second, Angel just looked at him, but then Angel's fingers slipped around his neck and pulled him close so that Angel could wrap his arms around Xander and hold on tight. Xander put his own arms around Angel's waist and just held on. Yeah, it was girly, but he was gay, and gay meant he got to be girly, and he was gay enough and girly enough and scared enough that he just wanted someone to hug him and promise him that Doyle and Faith and Buffy weren't going to die. He wanted that. But Angel wasn't good with the lying, so he'd settle for the hug.

"I do know how you feel," Angel whispered in his ear.

For a second, Xander couldn't talk. Fear choked him, and he had to struggle to catch his breath before he could make his argument. "I want to help. And even if I'm not helping, I want to be standing there while you help."

"It actually would help to have you along." Angel said that like he didn't want to say it, so Xander was guessing he was not being good with the sharing of pertinent information. He poked Angel in the ribs. Angel sighed his surrender. "The old courts always had human servants. It was how a Master Vampire showed off his ability to control his own bloodlust, and the older demons only trust vampires who can show that they have that same control."

"Ah." Tonight, Xander would be playing the part of the vampire slave. Well, about half the hotel guests thought he was one, anyway. It wasn't exactly going to damage his sterling reputation with the less-human community. A few even thought Cordelia was a slave, which generally led to some scary glareage in which she either convinced them that they were wrong or she convinced them that she was such a powerful slave she could have them cut into pieces and chucked down the sewer, Xander was never sure which. And then there was the one guest who Spike took for a little 'talk' who never showed up again. All in all, having people assume he was a vampire slave was oddly familiar territory, and he was way more in touch with his potential slaveness than Cordy.

Angel, however, was looking constipated over the topic. "You shouldn't have to—"

Xander cut Angel off before he could get any farther. "Just call me Xand the local slave boy. Do I get my own palm frond to wave over you?" His smile was strained, but bad jokes were part of his job description, and when the going got tough, it was his job to get joking.

"You won't have to do anything," Angel promised.

Spike snorted. "Except for maybe not pushing the sod around while the demon's watching, pet."

Xander frowned at Spike, not really getting his point.

"Let's get this over with," Angel said, pushing Xander toward the door with Spike close behind.

"If this wanker doesn't have anything on the spell, I’m going to go back to Merl and pull his intestines out through his soddin' nose."

"If Merl gave us a bad lead, he's already half way to Kansas by now," Angel answered as they walked through the lobby. The sun had gone down less than an hour ago, but no one had gotten around to turning on any of the lights yet. The lobby had an eerie horror movie vibe as the hall lights from the second floor spilled over the balcony. Xander was practically running to keep up, Angel's arm around his waist. For the first time in the two weeks since the spell had flattened the Scourge, he really felt hopeful that they had a real lead. Xander knew that he would never be suicidal enough to give Spike bad information. Hopefully this Merl had at least as many active brain cells as Xander, and they were on their way to finding the spell and finding a cure.

Angel stopped at the front door and looked back at Spike. "We still aren't leaving until you clean up."

"Bloody fucking wanker," Spike snarled under his breath, but he turned and headed for the stairs up to the second floor rooms at a dead run.

Slowly, Angel's nose twitched as he smelled the air. For a second, Xander thought maybe some of Spike's sewer smell had rubbed off on him, but for once, Spike hadn't been manhandling him. Inch by inch, Angel turned to really study Xander with yellowed eyes.

"Why do ye smell like that?" Angel asked in that creepy Irish voice that meant he was not doing good with his temper.

"Like what?" Xander asked. He tried to sniff at his own underarms, but Angel caught him by both arms, holding him so tight that Xander suspected he was going to have finger-shaped bruises on his biceps. "What?"

"Boy? What have ye been doing?"

Xander was really starting to freak out when Spike's yell drifted down from above.

"Cordelia fed 'im the enné!"

Angel blinked, his yellow eyes vanishing and brown reappearing along with a confused frown. "The enné?"

"It's good. Peppery," Xander agreed. For a second, Angel stared at him and then he just shook his head.

"It dunna matter how much I understand; you continue to confound me." Angel shook his head again and moved to settle an arm comfortably across Xander's shoulders.

"I keep it interesting," Xander said, leaning into Angel. Now he had both hope that they were getting somewhere with untangling Jenny's spell, and just a little worry about just what was in enné. And sadly, it was still better than tofu.

Chapter 25

Angel pulled up in front of a store with newspapers lining the windows like it had been abandoned, but the lack of broken glass and the German Sheppard out front were not exactly matching that first impression.

"I still say we should just find the bloody bint and break bones until she gives us the fucking spell," Spike muttered for about the thousandth time. Xander couldn't remember the last time Spike had been this obsessed with breaking a particular person instead of threatening humanity in general.

Xander looked at Angel who was very carefully not making any protest over that suggestion. "Hey, killing humans is on the list of things that will freak your humans out. I say let Riley deal with that mess. Besides, if she's in prison, she gets to be miserable and you get to vicariously torture Giles by making him go through with a divorce. Legal messiness all over." Xander climbed over the seat to get out of the car.

"I'd rather have intestinal messiness all over," Spike answered with a not-nice smile. Sometimes Xander had trouble thinking of Spike as being a soulless predator... not so much today. He had a feeling that if they ran into Jenny Giles on the street, Spike would be very happy to demonstrate his soullessness, and Xander suspected Angel would not be stopping him.

"I'm just going hope that Riley is better at missing persons than you two," Xander said with a sigh. He was not going to win this fight. Vampires were like giant cats with giant catnip balls that they refused to give up when they really put their minds to it.

"So they can give her a swat on the backside and send her dinner without her sweets?" Spike asked with a fake smile that made Xander reach out and try and poke him in the stomach. Unfortunately, vamps also had catlike reflexes.

"Hey! Willow did not cast that spell. She was more spell attached, which was not really great considering Jenny supercharged her mojo finger that way, but it's not like Willow did anything intentionally."

"No, just stupidly," Spike said, and Xander would have defended Willow, but Angel slammed the door to the shop open with so much force that the metal handle crashed into the brick and the glass made a screeching sound that Xander really thought was going to end with broken glass. He definitely needed to ask whoever owned the shop what kind of glass they used because any glass that could stand up to a pissy Angel was worth investing in.

The sad part was that part of Xander got it. Yeah, he trusted Spike and Angel, and if they looked him in the eyes and told him they needed something, he would so give it to them, but he wouldn't just let them drain him of mystical energy or whatever energy he might have bouncing around in his cells. Not without talking about it. Maybe he'd seen one too many cases of possession or something, not to mention one memorable case of soul loss, but he was just not that trusting. And he really wasn't that trusting with Jenny. She creeped him out. But maybe he was just prejudiced against people who knew big freaking secrets that could have gotten him killed and kept them secret for the sake of some hundred year old curse. If he lived to be as old as Anyaka, he still wouldn't be okay with the whole Angelus-soul-happiness secret.

Spike followed Angel into the shop. "Right then, let's get the intel and get back. I don't bloody trust Graham to play guard."

"Cordelia can just nag any invaders to death," Angel suggested before he stopped at a counter nearly buried in books. "Hello?"

A really, really old guy poked his head up from behind a counter full of books. "Yes? Yes? You be wanting something?" For the blink of an eye, the old guy looked 'off,' like his features hadn't quiet kept up with his face when he moved and his nose slid around a bit. Yep, demon. Xander was suspecting that he couldn't even tell what kind of demon because this guy had some sort of camouflage, which explained why Angel had decided to play mostly nice.

"Information," Angel said as he stepped up to the counter and pushed a stack of books out of his way. The old man blinked at him and then at Spike and finally Xander.

"Ah, the new Master. I am U'talaba, always happy to serve. I have books and information on many subjects. Many, many. What can I help you with Master Angel?"

"I need information on a spell that was used north of here 13 days ago. I hear that you track most of the magic in the area and that you can probably help me untangle exactly which spell was used." Angel laid it all out and then stared at the old guy. U'talaba's eyes travelled from one of them to the other, and Xander inched closer to Angel because he was seriously getting the creeps.

U'talaba slowly smiled. "Yes, yes. Information I have. Big spell, yes? But I know nothing about origin, about caster, so I cannot..." he waved a hand inarticulately.

"You can't interpret what you recorded?" Angel supplied. Xander never knew Angel was so good at charades.

"Maybe. New words. English... so imprecise. Too many words. Russian, much more like to talk. You talk Russian?" he asked hopefully. After a second, he shrugged in defeat because they were definitely not going to be talking in Russian. "Tell me what of which you know." U'talaba leaned forward, an expectant look on his face. For a second, Angel didn't answer. He stepped back and slipped an arm over Xander's shoulders while Xander stood there and tried to look like a slave, which wasn't easy because he didn't actually know what one looked like. Maybe he passed, though, because U'talaba smiled so the edges of his eyes crinkled.

"We know it was a chaos spell out of de Aldedelega's Opprimo," Angel said in a tone that suggested he was bored. The tone was a total lie. "A techno-wiccan modified it to key into genetic codes so it would target demons."

That made U'talaba blink really fast. "Bad news. Very bad. Chaos magic like to go 'woosh' everywhere. Techno magic is like," he chopped his hand through the air to suggest getting right to the point. "Bad mixing."

"Bloody know that bit already," Spike said softly. U'talaba looked over at him and did a weird head-bobbing thing.

"Most surprised you did not make this techno-wiccan into dinner... or slave." From the tone of voice, U'talaba would not have been disapproving of a little techno-dinner, and Xander really wasn't sure what to think about that. In Sunnydale, it had always seemed to simple with good on one side and evil on the other... at least until Spike showed up. But L.A. was all about gray. And from the looks of it, this old man who was nicely trying to help them was not actually big on the nice.

"Who said we didn't?" Angel asked with a not nice smile. U'talaba smiled back.

"Ah, stories of your soul... maybe exaggerated?"

"Perhaps," Angel agreed. "I want to know what you know about the spell."

U'talaba ducked his head and tilted it to the side. "Maybe I feel a spell like this. Much..." he held his hands out like he was holding something between them and trying to pull it apart.

"Tension," Angel offered.

U'talaba smiled. "Much tension. The chaos and the order. De Aldedelega, he be rolling in his grave at that spell. It was powerful like elephant. All strength. No grace."

"The demon who helps me undo this spell would make me exceptionally happy and would earn my gratitude." Angel had his used car salesman voice going. Angel liked to call it his seductive voice, but that wasn't exactly the word Xander would use. Then again, used car salesman did actually have to be pretty good at their job, so maybe the tone wasn't that far from seductive. If that was the case, Xander was immune because it always left him wanting to giggle manly and poke Angel for being a goober. Maybe Angel knew that because his arm tightened around Xander just hard enough to hurt a little. Yep, there would be no poking of the vampires in front of U'talaba.

"The gratitude of a true Master Vampire." U'talaba clucked and nodded his head. "Know you the ingredients?"

"Some of them."

U'talaba did a weird bounce move in his excitement. "What?"

Spike and Angel traded a wary look before Angel took a step closer toward U'talaba. "If someone were to waste my time or take information without offering any in return... well, I would not want to be that demon."

"No, no, no. I wish to help am. What ingredients?"

For one more second, Angel just looked at U'talaba before speaking. "Chalcedony, maca root, human bone dust from a hip joint, powdered Kungai skin, and a lot of runes entered into a computer, most of which we don't know. We can reliably say the runes were in either Sanskrit or Skilosh and they included the symbol for water and fire."

U'talaba shook his head sadly. "Bad mixing. But this fit what I feel. I feel the energy. It suck, like a vampire with blood. It pull at all that I am, but the pull is too far away. The Kungai is most important part. Skin has power. Horn... horn is big magic. With Kungai horn, I could undo the bad mixing."

Angel's hand darted out so fast that Xander didn't have time to do more than eep in shock before Angel had dragged the old man half way over the counter. "Be careful before ye promise something, old man. I've left a lot of demons with little more than bruises for not being able to help, but if you make a promise and canna keep it, I will be very unhappy."

"I keep," U'talaba shouted weakly, his hands flailing. "I keep all promise. With Kungai horn, I undo bad mixing. You bring me Kungai horn. It is strong spell, but stupid and one pull... it unweave magic." U'talaba pantomimed pulling something apart with a thread. "I just need Kungai horn."

"Right then, where do I find one?" Spike immediately asked with the sort of smile that suggested he had high hopes that he was going to get to rip it off the Kungai himself.

"Rare. Very rare." U'talaba's look turned cunning. "But I am good friend of Master Vampire Aurelius. I have boy work in basement. He know something about Kungai. You go talk. My English... not good. He speak many demon language. Best of very good with translating. But his Pilixy... worse my English. You talk him."

Angel looked at U'talaba for a long minute, and a little part of Xander was curled up and screaming in fear that this was a trap or that it wasn't a trap and they were going to leave without getting the information or that they would get the information and it would turn out that there wasn't a cure. And a little part of that little part that was screaming at Xander said that if this guy said there wasn't a cure, he was going with Spike when the vamp found Jenny Giles and help tear her into little itty, bitty pieces. And if he was perfectly honest, he wasn't sure he could forgive Willow if this thing didn't have a cure. He'd still love her, but he just wasn't sure he could forgive her.

"Here, here," U'talaba moved to a door, opening it and gesturing. Oh yeah, nothing about this screamed trap, not at all. Angel, however, had his big, bad vamp face on as he walked toward the door without a moment of doubt, and he pulled Xander along with him. Well, if they were going to be in a trap, better to be trapped with Angel than away from. He hooked his fingers in Angel's belt and held on tightly as they went down the creaking wood stairs. Spike stopped at the top and leaned back against the open door, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he watched with a casual air that did not match the way his body was unnaturally still like a coiled snake ready to strike.

At the bottom, Xander could see books, more books and piles of books. One set of shelves held scrolls piled up in triangles and a desk in the middle was nearly buried under the weight of the paper. A man with glasses and a dorky haircut looked up.

"Wesley!?" Xander may have squeaked the name out first, but he was guessing Angel and Spike were as shocked as he was. None of them had expected to find a Watcher in some demon's basement. Well, not without a lot of chains and some torture being involved, and Wesley just looked... well... dusty. He stood up and wiped his hand on his jacket and left behind a streak of dust from the book he'd been handling.

"Mr. Harris, Mr. Angel." He looked up the stairs at Spike who was now crouching at the top of the stairs and peering down. "Mr.... Spike." Westly blinked at them in shock.

"If it isn't the nancy-boy Watcher." Spike sounded amused.

"I have left the Council's employ. I found their philosophy entirely too confining," Wesley said sharply.

Spike did the thing with his eyebrow that meant he totally didn't believe Wesley, but Angel stepped forward before the real prissiness could get started. "We need information on how to find a Kungai horn."

And Wesley did the blinking thing again. "Yes... quite... but I hardly think that's wise."

"Listen up you gormless prat," Spike threatened, but it didn't carry as much weight with Spike still standing at the top of the stairs.

"Spike." Angel stopped Spike's rant before it got started. "Wesley, U'talaba said that you may know where we can find a Kungai horn."

"He did." Wesley looked toward the door like he might go up there and give U'talaba a piece of his very stuffy, English mind, but he had a couple of vampires between him and the guy, and from the way his fingers kept twitching toward his one pocket, Xander was guessing the guy only had one stake. Not that Wesley was particularly scary, even with a stake. However, pushed hard enough, Wesley might try to do something, and given Spike's current mood, Xander was guessing that would be of the bad. Okay, Wesley trying anything with Spike would always be of the bad, but right now, it would be of the bloodletting worse.

"So, Wesley, you're working for a demon. Way to go with the opening of your mind. Demons are people, too." Xander shouldered past Angel and reached for the first thing on Wesley's desk, which turned out to be a huge book that smelled like crayons. "Cool... basement." Xander couldn't quite say that last bit with a straight face.

"That is an original text of the Nor-ck prophesies of Oru!" Wesley sounded so much like Giles for that one second that Xander was almost homesick as Wesley darted out from behind his desk and snatched the book away, clutching it to his chest like it was the baby Xander had been about to sacrifice to some hellgod. "Don't you three have some evil vampires to slay? I assure you that I have no idea where one might find a Kungai. They are a particularly violent and thankfully rare species, and I have not heard of one in this area for quite some time. There was one in Phoenix if you are particularly interested in tracking one down."

The words hit Xander like a punch in the guts. He looked over expecting Angel to have the big brood on, but instead he had that calculating scary look, like when he'd figured out something that you really didn't want him figuring out. Angel moved forward slowly while he shook his head sadly.

"Wesley, Wesley, Wesley." The tone sent shivers up Xander's spine, and Xander wasn't the one getting looked at like the mouse in a cathouse... a house full of cats. "What do you know about the power in a Kungai horn?"

Wesley swallowed several times and held the book closer as he backed away. Ignoring Xander, he focused totally on Angel. "Well, it's rather well known that the Tac horn has the ability to drain life force of a living creature. Parker Fitzwater recorded the phenomenon in the twelfth century. He was a monk. I read his original diary. I was headboy, you know." Wesley's words tumbled out, but then if Angel was looking at him like that, Xander would have developed diarrhea of the mouth, too. "I am quite good with books. In school, they afforded me quite a few privileges normally reserved for full Watchers." Wesley finished weakly.

Angel nodded. "U'talaba is very impressed with your work. He says you have a talent for it." Angel reached up and put his hand over Wesley's. Xander opened his mouth, and for a second, he wasn't sure if he was upset about Angel intimidating Wesley or him touching Wesley.

"Wesley's all kinds of talented." Xander stepped forward and gave Angel a nasty look as he planted himself right next to the big dork. "Well, except when it comes to weapons. Seriously, no offense Wesley, but you're not really big with the weapon talent."

"Yes, quite. I had realized that, thank you for the enlightenment. I assure you that after having a seventeen year old boy who describes his fighting skills as 'marginal' show me up multiple times, I do not have a lot of illusions left on that front. It's one thing to be shown up by a slayer, but to be shown up by—"

"Be careful of the words ye choose, there," Angel warned softly. He pulled the book out of Wesley's hands, and now Wesley's hands hovered in the air. "You see, I would hate to be offended. And U'talaba has assured us that you know where to find a Kungai horn since we need one to undo a spell that removed life force from my friends. If U'talaba was lying, I would be offended. And if yer keeping something from me, I would be even more offended." Angel leaned in, trapping Wesley up against his desk. Slowly, Angel put the book down on the desk, and Wesley started sweating and went absolutely still as Angel had to lean way into his personal space to add the book to an already dangerously high pile.

"But if you were to tell me where to find a horn, I would be grateful. I have no doubt Giles would also be grateful since Buffy was also hurt by this spell."

"Buffy?" Wesley straightened up at that name. "Is Faith alright?"

"What do you care about that? You're not her soddin' Watcher anymore," Spike called down. Yep, it was a good thing for Wesley that Spike was up there and not down with him, and from the startled look on Wesley's face, he knew it.

"I am quite aware of that, but I do still care. Despite the fact that I was sacked over her disappearance, I would not want something to happen to her... her or Ms. Summers."

"Sacked like a funky English fired?" Xander asked.

Wesley blushed. "If you must know, yes. I lost my slayer, which made for a rather questionable employment history. Now if I had simply gotten her killed, they would have welcomed me back into the fold. Cecil Burward's slayer died in her first encounter with a vampire precisely fifty-three minutes after he had taken his position. However, he was welcomed back with open arms. I, on the other hand, committed the ultimate offense. I lost my slayer in that I could not find where she had been placed, which is, apparently, a far greater sin than getting one's slayer killed. We had a difference of opinion over that exact point, and they sacked me. I would have been in a right mess had I not found employment with U'talaba which included room and board. So, yes, I am now a free agent. A man without ties to the old world. A researcher of some repute who has chosen to live free of the constraints of the Council's dictates, and I do still care very much about Faith and Buffy being weakened by a spell. What exactly happened?"

Xander really didn't think it was fair to let Angel bully Wesley, not when the guy had been clearly bullied all the way out of his job, so he started to explain. "We were fighting a group called the Scourge..."

Wesley's gaze snapped over to him. "Paramilitary demons?"

"With delusions of Nazihood," Xander agreed, "very bad taste in uniforms, and a big tinkertoy that threatened to turn all humans into goo. Only there was a witch..."

"A witch? Within the Scourge?" Wesley interrupted again.

"Um, more like a three sided fight with a witch on one side and Scourge on the other and a whole lot of people you know on the third side. But the witch, she cast a spell and it made Faith and Buffy sick. We really need the Kungai horn because U'talaba thinks that with a Kungai horn he can undo the spell because it used Kungai skin."

Wesley looked around, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times before he visible straightened. "Good lord, any part of a Kungai joined with a magical enchantment could wreck havoc in the hands of the wrong practitioner. Do you know what type of spell might have been used? A chaos spell, necromancy, aeromancy, voodoo?" Wesley looked almost excited.

Xander looked at Angel, not sure how much to tell Wesley. It wasn't like any of them had been around to know how close Wesley might have been to Jenny, and Xander really did not want to get Wesley all defensive so that Angel and Spike went back to bullying. Not that Spike bullied. Angel bullied and threatened, Spike just ripped guts out.

"Cyberwiccan," Angel said without emotion.

The energy drained from Wesley immediately. "Good lord. Jenny Calendar."

"Jenny Giles," Xander corrected him.

Wesley flinched. "I hadn't received that memo. Not that the Council sends me many memos these days. Surely Mr. Giles didn't participate in such an unwise endeavor."

"He didn't," Angel agreed. "Jenny has vanished, and we are both search for a cure. Right now, you are standing between me and the chance that U'talaba can find a cure if he had access to a Kungai horn."

"Oh, right." Wesley almost sounded like he was surprised, like he'd forgotten the question Angel had been bullying him over. Turning around, he pushed aside several notebooks filled with odd symbols until he found a blue folder. "I'm not absolutely sure that I'm right, you understand. The last sighting of a Kungai truly was in Phoenix, and it's pure speculation that his horn might show up in L.A. with or without him, but I had noticed a pattern. Not to boast, but my research skills are quite formidable, and so when I noticed that a number of mystical murders were spaced the exact amount of time it would take one to drive from one location to another, I developed a theory."

Wesley pulled a map out of the folder and unfolded it to show red circles and lines traced over highways. "This is a nasty bugger. He left a trail of bodies, demon and human, with one common denominator... they all had powers. A Peto demon with a poison tongue cut out, a clairvoyant with his head ripped off, a woman with healing hands who had them pulled off her body..."

"Okay, someone killed a healer? That's sounding like something that needs a good slaying," Xander said. There was killing, and then there was the killing of children and healers and priests, which just really was so very wrong.

"While I would normally agree, this particular healer sold her talents to a local mob in Chicago. Those she chose to heal were not the sort of which you and I might approve," Wesley explained. "That is one more reason why I believe the deaths were connected. This killer targeted supernatural beings who had extensive human defenses, but he avoids anyone with a supernatural support network. It does mean that the hunter normally targets the more evil among us since beings who fight for good typically have alliances while evil is more..." Wesley glanced at Angel, and Xander could practically read his thoughts. Yep, Angel had been evil, and from the stories, evil Angel had not been nearly as good with the alliances. Heck, Darla and him kept trying to leave each other to get killed. Spike was about the only evil person Xander knew who did the family thing. Actually, Spike was way better at the family thing than Xander's father, and that was not saying good things about the nature of his father's soul.

Wesley cleared his throat. "Three days ago, the Kungai rumored to live in south Phoenix disappeared under suspicious circumstances, and the killer appears to be working his way back to California."

Wesley started spreading newspaper clippings out over the desk. "And this is the third time I've seen this pattern. Someone starts on the east coast and then works his or her way back to California, collecting various powers on the way. If this person did kill the Kungai as I hypothesize, then he is somewhere near here with the horn."

"So, someone is collecting powers." Angel leaned over the desk and studied the maps and articles spread out over it.

"More than likely. And if that is the case, the demon will be a formidable opponent," Wesley said.

Angel shook his head. "That many powers would have side effects. But there is more than one reason to collect powers. U'talaba is willing to try a counterspell if he gets the horn. How much would something like that sell for?"

Wesley blinked. "I hadn't considered it."

"What? We're looking for a retail shop of evil?" Xander frowned at the idea of his two worst nightmares shoved together into one thing. Shopping with Buffy and Willow had been bad enough, but retail of evil was sounding infinitely worse.

"Makes sense," Spike agreed from his post at the exit. "If demons are involved, the green bean will know where to find them." Lorne really was like a demon Switzerland, neutral and knowing way more than he ever admitted.

"So, we find the collector, get the horn, and Faith is safe as houses in no time," Spike said, and for the first time since Jenny's spell, he actually looked pleased.

"Faith and Buffy and Doyle and that guy from Riley's unit with the rash," Xander corrected him. Spike gave a snort that made it pretty clear he didn't actually care about anyone other than Faith, but that was Spike for you. As good as he was doing the family thing, he didn't really do friendly alliance well.

"To attempt to use the horn in any sort of palliative or curative measure could prove counterproductive." Wesley stopped when Angel moved forward, his shoulders rolling like a panther that just found a bunny rabbit in his cage with him. Actually, Angel was moving in a way that Xander normally associated with Spike and imminent death.

"We will get the horn, and if U'talaba needs any assistance, you will make sure that this is not a counterproductive spell." Angel gave a real Angelus smile, one that made Xander's mouth go dry and that made Wesley lose all the blood out of his face. Xander should probably explain to Wesley that vampires had more fun playing with you when you looked like you were about to pee in your pants.

Xander cleared his throat. "Um, shouldn't we be doing something about evil retail?" he asked Angel.

At first, Angel didn't seem to have heard. He just continued with the Angelus smile, but then he shook his head, like he was just coming up from under the water, and looked over at Xander. "Which part?" Angel asked. "If we shut down the evil buyers, the sellers will just find more. If we shut down the sellers, then they stop taking out the original owners of the evil objects. If we try to confiscate every evil object—" Angel didn't finish, but Xander could see where that was going.

"Oh bloody hell. If you lot get off on that, we're never going to focus on getting the bloody Kungai horn for the spell. We can worry about the rest of the moral shite later. So, are we going to take the horn away from the wankers or pay for it? I know which one I prefer." Spike smiled and morphed into gameface. Wesley didn't scream or squeal or do anything too unmanly, but he came close. Xander remembered a day when that had been him, and he was clearly a bad person because watching someone else deal with Spike was amusing him.

"What if the guy who grew the horn wasn't evil? I mean, are we sure these are evil people torturing evil people?" Xander asked.

Surprisingly, it was Wesley who spoke up even if he was still looking like he was close to the peeing of his pants. "It is quite admirable to question the moral turpitude of those involved in such nefarious goings on, but..."

"But we don't bloody care," Spike cut him off.

"You don't bloody care. I kinda bloody care," Xander said with an exasperated glare. Sure, he didn't understand anything Wesley was saying, but at least he was willing to talk about this.

"Xander." Angel stopped and just looked at him, and now Xander knew he finally had Angel's attention.

"I know we need the horn, and hey, I am totally okay with taking the horn or buying the horn or if someone gets in our way letting Spike eviscerate them for the horn." Spike's smile made it pretty clear which option he'd vote for. "But should we leave the auction up and running?"

Angel frowned. "There might be a few good people involved. Some buyers could be looking for cures." His frown deepened. "However, some of the merchandise might be stolen from demons who were fighting evil," he admitted with an unhappy expression.

"So, the Kungai could have been a good guy and someone ripped his horn off his head... please someone tell me we are talking about a horn on a head." Xander looked around, but before Spike could start making up some story like he had with the enné, Wesley nodded.

"Indeed, right in the center of the forehead."

"Okay, then how do we know we aren't buying the body part of some poor demon who was just walking to work one day when 'bam' some horn collector jumped out from behind a bush because that...." Xander eeped when Spike caught him by the front of the shirt and dragged him forward until they were nose to nose. Okay, clearly Spike had moved away from the door at some point.

"I don't soddin' care if I have to find some git walking to work and rip something off him myself, I'm getting Faith her fucking cure."

"Spike," Angel warned. Out of the side of his eye, Xander could see Wesley's hands fluttering like he didn't know what to do with them. Xander just reached up and patted Spike. Father Peter might say that love required a soul, but Xander knew two things: Spike didn't have a soul and Spike loved everyone in his odd little clan.

"And I am oddly okay with that plan. We need the Kungai horn, so we'll take it," Xander promised him. "I'm just wondering if we shouldn't burn the auction down or do some slayage while we're there."

Spike frowned at him for a second and then let go. "That'd be a bit of alright," Spike said with a casual sniff like he hadn't been thoroughly pissed off two seconds ago. He let go of Xander, but he slung an arm over Xander's shoulder and pulled him close. Angel's eyebrow went up, but he didn't comment.

"A Kungai is evil by definition," Angel said, stepping closer. Reaching out, he caught Xander by the arm and pulled him away from Spike. For a second, Spike held on, his lips curling into a smirk before he let go. With an oomph, Xander hit Angel's side, and then Angel's arm was over his shoulder and pulling him tight. If vampires were cats, he was the catnip ball. "Like vampires," Angel continued, totally ignoring Spike's smirk and Wesley's slightly panicked expression, "a Kungai lives by draining others, but they drain the lifeforce and leave nothing but dust behind when they feed. If we had a Kungai was in the area, I would track it down and kill it."

"And you would have left the soddin' horn behind, so that would have been a waste," Spike interrupted.

"Yes, well, I would certainly not want to distract you from your imminent battle with the nefarious forces of evil." Wesley gave a ragged laugh. "I have some translations to tend to. Very difficult. A rare dialect of Fil'ta. Quite a daunting task." He was backing away, and Spike cocked his head.

"Wesley, thank you," Angel offered. Spike gave Wesley a thorough and predatory looking over, and Wesley lost what little color he had in his face. Spike smirked before heading for the door without a word.

"Quite alright." Wesley sat down so fast that Xander thought his knees had probably failed him. Angel and Spike had sort of left him alone back in Sunnydale. He was in Buffy's camp, and that made him persona non toucha. Not so much now.

Angel turned around and started for the door without letting Xander go.

"Hey! Thanks and it was really nice seeing you," Xander called over his shoulder as Angel pushed him toward the stairs. Wesley just waved his hand with a vague gesture. Yep, he was freaking in his own very English sort of way.

Upstairs, U'talaba sat on a low bench and twirled two strands of something stringlike together. "He is good, yes? Very smart."

"If this information turns out to be good." Angel stopped, his arm tightening around Xander protectively, but it was just U'talaba and his stool.

"He always gives good information. More people should get themselves an old Watcher. They make good workers." U'talaba sounded very friendly, but something about the way he said that made Xander's arm hairs stand up and start looking around. "The Watchers have the patience to train them right."

"It probably helps that he worked for the Slayers," Angel offered mildly, but the deathgrip on Xander arm didn't exactly support the idea that he was feeling mild.

"You know how it is. People like to brag. They had their translation done by a minion of one of the great Slayers." U'talaba smiled showing teeth that were too pointed for a human. "Good for business, but it is the Watchers who trained him to be so good a worker." U'talaba nodded. "His information good. Go find the horn, and I will undo what the clumsy witch did."

Angel tipped his head in U'talaba's direction before pushing Xander out into the night air. Outside, Spike was leaning against the car with barely contained impatience.

"Don't bloody care if you want to burn the place down after, but you get Lorne on that phone and find out where we find this demon with the horn." Spike took a deep drag on his cigarette so the end lit his face with a demonic glow... or that might have been the fact that he was still in gameface.

"Are we going to burn them down?" Xander asked. He pushed the seat forward so he could climb in back.

"Seems pointless. We might need 'em later." Spike slammed the door closed and then leaped over it to land in the passenger seat. "Then again, a good fire is a right treat—all that screamin' and burnin'. I bloody loved China with the whole fucking country on fire and everyone tryin' to kill everyone else."

Angel gave Spike a dirty look before he moved to the front of the car to talk on the phone. Hopefully Lorne would help without them having to drive down to Caritas to sing or threaten Lorne.

"You do know I'm not really into randomly burning things down." Xander thought back to his early days with Buffy, back when he'd been as dweebish as Wesley and he'd been pretty much into burning any and all demons he could find. He definitely would have burned down U'talaba's place, and now he was wondering whether his new or his old instincts were better. "Anymore," he added. "But if they're evil..."

"You're as bad as Peaches, some days, pet. They're evil the way Wall Street or the soddin' Congress is evil. They spread shite around and try and suck up all the money and every once in a while, someone good gets chewed up and spit out. If ya want to bloody burn them to the ground, I don't really care, but don't go getting your knickers in some sort of moral twist. That's Peaches' job."

Xander pulled the seatbelt across his lap. "Is it a bad sign when the soulless demon makes sense?"

Spike blew a cloud of smoke out into the night air. "I always make sense, pet. I don't have all that guilt clogging up my brains."

"Hey, guilt is not what's clogging my brains." Xander frowned because that wasn't exactly what he'd meant to say. However, he didn't have a chance to correct himself—Spike was laughing too loudly.

"Hotel Ramsey," Angel said as he got in behind the wheel. "A demon named Barney runs a regular auction offering up magical parts. So, are we taking them out when we get the horn?"

He started the car and checked over his shoulder before pulling out into traffic. Xander didn't realize Angel was asking him until he reached up to adjust the rearview mirror so he could see Xander's reflection. Part of Xander wanted to play hero and rush in there and do the slay thing... or the watching vamp backs while they did the slay thing and he stood around with his cinquedea. They were evil, and evil should die. But if they stuck with that rule, they'd have to track down most of the politicians, and Xander was pretty sure those guys were human and killing them was on the 'no' list. He was a big fan of less evil in the world, but he wasn't the one to be making the big decisions about who was evil enough to deserve getting taken out. He wasn't even sure that getting rid of Barney would mean less evil because Wesley made it sound like he was pretty good at killing evil, even if he was kinda evil. For that matter, Spike was evil, and if they let Spike do his Spiky thing, it seemed unfair to not let Barney to his Barney-y thing. Unless he did something particularly evil to them, anyway.

Xander sighed. "You could just make up your own mind... you know, without making me question my moral boundaries." Since Angel didn't have a reflection, Xander couldn't see his face, but he knew what the silence meant. "Fine, we get the horn and let Barney be Barney, but if he tries selling me or, you know, someone not evil, he gets put on the slay list."

Angel nodded and hit the accelerator.

Chapter 26

Angel pulled Xander closer as they walked through the hotel's back room. Demonic chests, body parts, shriveled heads and idols were strewn across folding tables, each with a small number on a tag attached. He could smell Xander's distress, and he wondered if Xander had changed his mind about burning the place down once they got the horn. Angel could feel the violent glee at that prospect, and he reminded himself that he would have to pull the fire alarm and give the humans in the rooms above a chance to get out first.

"Creepsville," Xander said softly. "It's like paradise only for really twisted people who think Poe and Quentin Tarantino make for good bedtime stories."

A young man went rushing by them, his arms held out like he was about to hug a long-lost friend. "Oh! Look! I really want one of these." He stopped just short of a mummy, which was good because it was covered in rotting bandages. "Buy me this one."

An older woman in spiked heels and a business suit followed. She had an indulgent look on her face as she agreed.

"Bloody idiots," Spike said softly.

"Oh yeah. Fools in fool's paradise, and please tell me that fool can't use the mummy to end the world or perform any apocalypsy fun." Xander turned to Angel.

Angel looked at the misshapen artifact. "It might eat him," Angel finally concluded.

"And I'm thinking that's only fair in a Darwinian kind of way."

Angel didn't know how to answer that. Certainly he didn't feel any sympathy for the young man who was almost dancing around the mummy, but Angel was a demon. Xander was a human, and he still wasn't bothered by the high likelihood that this overly enthusiastic young man was about to become part of the food chain.

"Bloody hell, let's just get on with it," Spike said, and that effectively interrupted any introspection on Angel's part.

"This way." Angel started walking toward the office area. Smaller artifacts were lined up on tables in this area. It occurred to Angel that this Barney would pay a lot to get the Gem of Amara, and Angel calculated the cost of adding a little more security onto the hotel.

They definitely needed to either bring in more guests or go raid some treasure. Angel had heard rumors of a necromancer who had a very large treasure and an even larger library. Of course, it was insanely dangerous for vampires to go after a necromancer, but Spike was nearly dancing with glee at the thought of trying, and if this worked, Faith and Graham would be available for a raid. It would solve both their current difficulties with dwindling finances and provide them with more research material. And it would make Cordelia happy. Angel had quickly discovered that the entire hotel tended to match Cordelia's mood. If she was stressed over money, Spike would break something, Xander would get upset about whatever Spike had broken, Graham would get tense around Spike, and Faith would snap at Spike for making Graham uncomfortable. Life was easier when Cordelia was happy. Sometimes it worried Angel just how much Cordelia and Darla had in common, but at least this time he wasn't sharing a bed with the queen bee.

Angel glanced over at Xander who was looking around, his expression caught between horror and fascination. The idea that Xander would be in his bed within days... within hours... it was terrifying. Angel knew how to dominate Spike and he knew how to get dominated. Darla's training wasn't something he cared to think about, but he certainly knew how to placate a dominant lover in bed. However, Angel wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with Xander.

"Okay this place? Officially weird," Xander said with an exaggerated grimace. "And if you lose me the way my mother lost me in K-mart when I was seven, I'm never forgiving you."

Angel blinked, shocked at the evidence that Xander would ever suspect that. Reaching out, Angel caught Xander by the neck and pulled him close, enjoying the warmth. "If you wander more than two steps, I'll track you down."

Spike smirked over at them. "We could probably pick the boy up a leash if you'd like," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. Spike was enjoying Angel's discomfort a little too much, and the worst part was that he probably understood the dilemma that Angel was in. After all, Spike had already made the transition to having sex with humans... sex that didn't involve broken bones and bloodletting. Angel glared at the younger vampire.

"You try it and I'll... I'll..." Xander sputtered, struggling to come up with a threat good enough. "I'll tell people you're addicted to Passions!" Xander finally blurted. "I'll have Graham put it on the webpage!"

"You soddin' little..."

"Enough," Angel cut them off before they could get into a war of mutual threats and blackmail. A woman was walking straight toward them, her dark eyes focused right on Angel, and this did not look like a casual interest.

"Ah, Mr. Angel." The woman walked up to them, and Angel stepped forward to get between her and Xander. Her tailored suit and briefcase suggested that she was a broker or a buyer, and if she wanted to buy Xander, Angel was going to have her for lunch. It would distract him from his aggravation with Spike. Xander sighed, but since he didn't loudly complain and poke Angel in the ribs, Angel assumed that was a sort of tacit agreement that this woman was dangerous.

"Yes?" Angel narrowed his eyes and looked at her. He considered the length of time it would take her to die if he started stripping off her skin. While he didn't actually plan to try that, Spike and Xander agreed that tended to have his most intimidating expression when he indulged in that fantasy, and he needed this woman to understand that he didn't want her near. Unfortunately, she didn't seem bothered by his expression.

"I'm Connie Whither, from Wolfram and Hart. I wanted to introduce myself." She put her hand out and offered him an unctuous smile. Angel stared at her. Russell Winters had used the law firm before Angel had killed him, and there were rumors of other demons hiring the lawyers. As far as Angel was concerned, working for demons put you on some pretty thin ice. He was fairly sure Xander would approve of terrorizing the woman since her law firm had tried to defend Winters when he'd kidnapped Cordelia.

"Whoa, the crazy vampire businessman's law firm? The people who tried to defend the vamp who grabbed Cordelia?" Xander asked with a fear coloring his voice. Angel didn't like that tone. He also thought the tone pretty much confirmed his first guess. This woman was on some thin moral ice. One wrong move, and Spike would be having fresh blood for dinner.

Angel narrowed his eyes and took a step toward the woman. "If ye have something to say, say it quick." Angel noted that Spike had moved back to Xander's side, defending him.

"Yes, we did represent Mr. Winters, but there are certainly no hard feelings there. Vampire culture has its own laws, and while we would have attempted to negotiate on his behalf, you were clearly well within your rights." Angel could hear the strain in her voice. She wasn't lying... not outright, but not everyone agreed with that assessment. Taking another step forward, Angel moved within inches of her. Tiny drops of sweat gathered at her hairline, and she smelled of the musk that came not with terror, but with the emotion that preceded it--a sort of nervous awareness of mortality. "We simply wish to offer our services to you."

"Services?" Spike asked, and the sarcasm in his voice made it clear what he thought of that offer.

"An evil door-to-door salesman in an evil auction, who woulda thunk?" Xander said quietly, echoing Spike's displeasure with his own odd sort of mangled English.

"We offer a wide range of services beyond the normal legal firm. For example, we have an establishment that presents demon gladiator fights. Normally, vampires are not a popular attraction. While I would never want to offend you, the fact is that the normal minion does not present any sort a challenge for the demon fighters. However, if you are interested, I'm sure the crowd would love to bet on a Master Vampire, and we could arrange a profit sharing plan for our mutual benefit." Angel sub vocalized a growl, warning Spike to stay out of it before he signed himself up. By insulting vampires as a race, she was clearly attempting to manipulate Spike. The boy simply could not resist any challenge to his strength. Of course, Angel understood that insecurity entire too well since he had created it.

"I don't see any reason why I would be interested in your profits," Angel pointed out coldly. She simply smiled.

"I would not expect you to take any interest. That's the advantage of our law firm. We are a neutral party out to secure profits for ourselves and our clients. We have no political motives other than money, so you can be assured that we will always act in the best interest of our financial future. You would be a significant draw in the fights--you or Master Spike--and we would be willing to share those significant profits in order to secure a share for ourselves."

Angel studied her. From what he'd heard in the demon communities, Wolfram and Hart was far from neutral, but then evil people shied away from announcing their own nefarious motives. Certainly Angelus had only showed his true nature once he has his prey in the trap. However, that left him wondering what trap Wolfram and Hart was preparing. "Not interested," Angel said shortly.

"Or," she hurried to say as Angel started to turn away, "we could arrange to use your hotel for accommodations. From what we've heard, you have done a remarkable job with the restoration." She smiled at Xander, and Angel growled, his eyesight slipping into the gray, sharp-edged vision of the demon. The woman had the grace to turn pale and take a step back. "We represent a number of politicians, demonic clan leaders... diplomats. We would pay top dollar for a demon-friendly luxury hotel."

Angel studied the woman, but her vacuous smile didn't reveal anything of any interest.

"Master Angel!" A floppy eared demon who clearly shopped for obnoxiously colorful shirts at the same stores as Xander hurried up to him. Reaching out, he grabbed for Angel's hand without even pausing. Clearly he was stupid. "U'talaba said to expect you, and can I just say I am really excited about doing business with you. You are just the hottest thing to hit L.A. since pastel colors during the Miami Vice craze. So, I hear you're looking for a Tak horn, and I have just the merchandise for you. That boy of U'talaba's really knows his business if he spotted my trail from the newspapers, huh?"

Angel's vision turned human again as he studied the strange demon that was shaking his hand enthusiastically. If he didn't know Xander was completely human, Angel would have been tempted to assume that they were related.

"Barney?" Angel asked.

"That's me. Your procurer of all things of power. Healing hands, visionary eyes... Tak horns—I have it all. But for you, I'm just your good old buddy, Barney."

"Is it just me, or did anyone else expect bigger, musclier and scarier when Wesley described a killer of killers and other really big, scary stuff?" Xander asked in a slightly bewildered voice.

"Hey, kid, don't go judging a book by his skin," Barney suggested. "Of course now that I know how U'talaba's ex-Watcher tracked me, I clearly need to change my MO a little."

"Ex-Watcher?" Connie Whither's face grew speculative. Angel mentally cursed. Barney might not be as physically intimidating as Xander had expected, but Angel suspected he had just done far more damage than a rampaging Moira demon. Damn. Clearly, they would have to move to get Wesley out of U'talaba's place more quickly than Angel had planned. And hopefully, he could do it without Xander realizing that U'talaba had effectively enslaved Wesley. Xander would consider that a sin worthy of slaying, and Spike always wanted to kill, so that would make it two against one in favor of killing U'talaba. Angel would prefer to avoid that. The demon had connections, and more than that, he had power that Angel still didn't understand, and that made him nervous.

"Some new slave U'talaba picked up," Barney said dismissively. Angel kept his best stoic face on, even when Xander turned and looked at him with undisguised horror. Damn it. If Xander weren't here, Angel would wring Barney's neck like one of his grandmother's cheesecloth bundles with the curds tucked inside the rough fabric. Only, Angel would squeeze until Barney's brains started leaking instead of whey.

"How interesting," Whither said as if Wesley and U'talaba were the least interesting topics in the world. Angel wasn't buying her faked disinterest. "Do consider our offer, Mr. Angel. Wolfram and Hart is always looking for profitable partners, and we could make a lot of money together." She looked over at Xander and Spike and tipped her head in respect. "So nice to meet you Mr. Harris, Mr. Pratt." Angel could feel every muscle tense at the evidence that this lawyer had done her research. No one alive knew Spike's original name, and she threw the name around as if the information were so easily come by that it didn't matter. That kind of arrogance suggested that either Wolfram and Hart was far more powerful than Angel had thought or that they had paid dearly for that information, and they'd been waiting for a chance to drop it into some conversation just to convince Angel of their power.

Angel traded looks with Spike. All the playfulness had vanished, and Spike was dangerously still and ready to attack. Angel weighed the dangers. Whither was just a minion of the real power, however. Killing her would only serve to give Wolfram and Hart an inflated sense of their own ability to worry Angel.

"Don't expect a call," Angel said shortly. Barney looked from the lawyer to them and back in clear confusion. "Let's discuss the terms of sale on the Tak horn," Angel said, facing Barney even though he tracked the lawyer's every move with his hearing.

"The auction is tomor—" Barney choked off the last word, probably because Angel had reached out and grabbed him by the throat.

"Let's understand each other," Angel said in a friendly voice. Spike gave a little bounce. "I've had a really difficult day. A technomage attacked my clan, and when I find her, I'm going to pull her intestines out the smallest possible hole I can make in her stomach." With his free hand, Angel reached out and slipped a finger between the buttons of Barney's shirt and stroked the skin beneath. "I'm having fantasies of eviscerating something with a beating heart, and I can either take the Tak horn and work on undoing the technomage's spell or I can indulge in a little torture while I wait for someone to find this woman for me." Angel smiled and let that piece of information soak in. "How would you like me to spend the next hour?" Angel tilted his head to the side and considered Barney. His pinkish skin was turning a much brighter shade of red and he was making little inarticulate noises.

"Um, I think he needs to breathe, Angel," Xander said softly.

"Oh." Angel tried to hide his own embarrassment at forgetting that. He loosened his hold, and Barney noisily sucked air in.

"But for you, we can do a private sale," Barney said, his voice a rough whisper. "How does $10,000 sound?"

"Unreasonable," Angel said sharply.

"Because it is," Barney agreed with a strained smile, patting Angel on the forearm. "Because we're friends, and we don't make a profit off each other... or kill each other. I would never charge my friend more than $4,000. I have it right over there," Barney waved his hand toward a table. Angel looked over, and he could see the Tak horn with its tag. Angel nodded and Spike headed for the table, pulling Xander along with him.

Slowly, Angel let go of Barney's neck and patted him on the shoulder, mimicking Barney's desperate and placating gesture. "It's good to have friends," Angel said as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

Barney was holding his neck with both hands, but he nodded his agreement. Angel pulled the money out and counted out the hundred dollar bills. "I'm five hundred short. I'll have to have the last part of the payment sent over." Angel handed Barney $3,500 and watched for any sign that the demon was about to call in security. For a second, Angel thought he might be considering it, but Angel reached over and patted Barney on the cheek the way one might a child. "After all, friends trust each other, right? If you didn't trust me, you wouldn't let me leave without the last of the payment and if I didn't trust you, I'd rip you apart and throw your decapitated head at the first guard to show his face."

For a second, Barney didn't breathe. Hell, most of the patrons who were inspecting the exhibits held their breath. "Of course. I have absolute trust in you, Master Angel. You're quickly becoming the most important Master in L.A. You certainly run the only traditional court on the West Coast. In fact, I insist that you take the horn for $3,500. It's more than fair. Maybe you could let me leave a few brochures at your hotel? Advertise my services? You know, one friend helping out another?" Barney's words tumbled out, and he smelled of desperation and hope.

"Call Cordelia. If you can get her to agree, you have my permission." Angel turned toward the exit, but he kept an eye out for Barney. Unless Angel missed his guess, Angel didn't have anything to fear from him at this point, though. Barney was looking at him with awe and excitement. Angel jerked his head, and Spike took point, Xander right behind him as they headed for the exit. Angel kept to the rear, covering their retreat. He wasn't even all the way to the door before Barney turned to a human who'd been hovering in the background during the entire conversation.

"Do you hear that? Master Angel is going to let me advertise in his hotel if I can get past his major domus."

Angel sighed, wondering if it would placate Cordelia to know that the demon community was about to promote her from human slave to majordomo. Probably not. The title wouldn't reduce her work load, but maybe Angel could do something about that, too.

Outside, Xander moved away from Spike and back to Angel's side. Angel raised an arm and let Xander slip into place against his side. The warmth of Xander's body reminded Angel that he wasn't the demon he once had been, no matter how good it felt to intimidate Barney and feel the awe and respect as people looked at him and saw a Master Vampire—not a souled abomination known for crawling through alleys for a century.

"U'talaba thinks he owns Wesley?" Xander asked.

"Ya just now figuring that one out, pet?" Spike turned around and looked at Xander like he was a particularly cute and slightly stupid dog. Angel glared at Spike, silently warning him to play nice. Spike was probably still stinging from Xander's threat to publicize his Passions obsession.

"Hey, I think I'm figuring it out way faster than Wesley. You do know that Wesley doesn't know that he's U'talaba's slave, right?" Xander looked from one of them to the other. "We aren't going to just let him stay enslaved, right?"

Angel sighed. He was aware. "We'll deal with that after we get the spell we need. We're not going to abandon Wesley," he promised. They reached the car, and Angel looked back at the hotel.

"Should we take the auction out?" Angel asked. He'd asked Xander before, but now Xander had seen just how much power and how many dangerous artifacts were together in this one place.

Xander sighed and shrugged and gave a lop-sided grin that looked like the one he used when he'd performed particularly badly on a test at school. "Lots of things creep me out. Like the Barney that's on TV. That's way worse than this Barney. There is something very wrong about getting kids to hug a purple dinosaur. If you see a purple dinosaur, running and screaming in terror would be way better reactions than hugging. So trust me, you are not going to be able to uncreepify the world."

Angel tightened his arm around Xander's shoulders. He remembered a day when Xander would have asked for exactly that. He wasn't sure whether it was good or bad that Xander was willing to accept a certain level of evil in the world.

"Let's go get a cure for Faith," Angel said.

"About bloody fucking time." Spike leaped over the door and landed in the passenger side seat and propped a boot on the dash of Angel's car.

Angel walked around to the driver's side and opened the door and pulled the seat forward so Xander could climb in.

"Harry will be very happy if Doyle gets well enough to travel, because I really think they're going to get back together, which is hard to do if Doyle is here and Harry is off learning demon table manners," Xander said. "Although I'm almost a little sorry, because Harry and Blair would have been really cute together. They would have had kids so smart that the rug rats would have been making fun of me before they got to the third grade, but Blair and Harry would have been cute together."

Angel listened to Spike and Xander chat about who should pair up with whom as he pulled into the traffic. Considering his own fears that he would not live up to Xander's expectations, that was not a conversation he planned to join in. Besides, right now, he couldn't think past getting Faith her cure. That and trying to figure out a way to get Wesley away from U'talaba and Wolfram and Hart.

Life was just never simple. He remembered Whistler once warning him about perfect happiness. Angel certainly didn't see himself being in any danger of that. If he didn't get Wesley before Wolfram and Hart bought him, he doubted he was ever going to be even slightly happy ever again. Sometimes it occurred to Angel that Spike and Xander were not all that different. Inside the auction, Xander had walked away from a young man who was most likely going to get eaten by a demon mummy, but he wanted to save Wesley from a situation where he was safe and happy and enslaved. Yeah, Xander was far more protective of his people than of people in general, and clearly Xander wanted to save Wesley. So, they'd be saving Wesley.

If life got any more complicated, Angel was going to have to start keeping "To Do" lists. Save Wesley, make Cordelia happy, figure out what Wolfram and Hart was up to, and do it all before they ran out of money. No wonder he'd spent a century living in alleys; it was simpler.

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