Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Angel or Buffy related characters. They are property of Joss Whedon and Twentieth Century Fox. They are created by Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt. I also do not own any of the Highlander characters. They are based on a concept by Gregory Wilden and own by Rysher Entertainment.
Author's notes: This story takes place after "Hero", and poor Doyle's just pushing up daisies, but Wes hasn't made an appearance in Los Angeles yet. Spike's still "fixed". Since "Highlander" doesn't air anymore, and we're awaiting the movies, it doesn't matter when it takes place, I've just moved MacLoud, Joe Dawson and Methos to L.A. E-mail all comments to Elf, Jennifer Bratcher, at slayerbrat@yahoo.com. Violence and language is present, as well as child death, so it's rated about a PG-13
Another Angel/Highlander Crossover
Angel looked at where Cordelia Chase was sitting at her desk. Mascara was dripping unnoticed down her face as she sniffled softly. Doyle's death was fresh in all of their minds. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to go be a martyr? That was Angel's style, not "I'm not combat ready" Doyle's.
Doyle was his only friend that wasn't connected to Buffy in the beginning. The half-breed had came to him first, standing boldly in Angel's "batcave" and telling Angel his life story. Angel didn't throw him out, there was something about the little demon that he liked at that instant. He could tell Doyle things, and the demon wouldn't be shocked or angry with him. In fact he tried to push him into society, into people's lives.
In short, Angel was grieving. And so was Cordelia.
Angel said, "Cordelia, you have the night off. With pay."
That didn't get the reaction he wanted. She looked up at him, black streaks ran down the California tanned skin of her face. She asked, "Why did he have to do a thing like that? I mean, what's up with you?"
"What do you mean?" Angel asked, knowing that Cordelia would get to her point when she was ready.
She stood up and smoothed her long dark hair away from her face. She started to pace as she exscalamed, "I mean, you're always willing to die. You're like 'oh, the world's in trouble, it needs me to die to save it', I mean, you'll die saving the world without flinching."
"I don't feel dead, literally," Angel replied as he watched her.
"No, I just mean, you're too good for your own good. You'll come up when some vamp's trying to bite someone you don't even like and get shot multiple times in the chest for her. Then you get the bullets pulled out without any pain killers. I mean, I don't think I could do that," Cordelia explained.
Angel bitterly half-smiled as he replied, "Oh, yeah, I'm so good that I let my friend die. It wasn't his job to fight. He was just the messager."
"Ohhhhh, I don't know what to do with you. You and your depressed brooding ways. And your good guy complex," Cordelia exclaimed, highly frustrated.
Angel said, "Go home, go see if your agent called. You have the night off, with pay. Or, better yet, get some sleep, it's been . . . hard for all of us."
"All of us being you and me," she wearily replied as she stood up. She slid into her jacket and said, "Bye Angel."
"Be careful," he told her as she began to walk out of the door.
She asked, "What are you going to do?"
Angel pulled a wooden steak from his desk and answered, "Some hunting."
"Oh, have fun," she wearily replied as she sauntered out of the door.
Angel took a katana from its place on the shelf and slid it into his duster, a trick he had picked up from MacLoud. He wondered for a brief moment on how MacLoud was doing. The Immortals were an interesting subject, too bad he had given him that book back in exchange for the painting. The painting was worth it though.
He locked up the office and turned on the answering machine. He walked out into the humid night air. It was one of those nights, warm, humid and no breeze to cool the streets. It was the type of night that was just so . . . unpleasant that you would just know something would happen. He started to walk the streets, heading to a local bar that vampires hanged at.
Then, as he walked past one ally, someone grabbed his arm and jerked him in. Angel grabbed his assailant's arm and slammed him into a brick wall. Then he noticed it was Spike. Angel shoved the younger vampire to the ground. He had recently gotten a call from Xander saying if Spike showed up in L.A. don't kill him.
Angel snarled, "What the hell are you doing here?" In my town, near my office, and waiting for me, you bastard.
Spike stood up and looked Angel in the eye. He answered, "I need your help you bloody bastard."
"Why the hell should I help you?" Angel spat. Last time Spike made an appearance he had another demon torture Angel. Not the briteist idea. Angel had spent a very *long* time in Hell, and some little bald bastard of a demon wasn't going to faze him. Cause him physical pain, yes, but not get him to break. Later on that same day, Angel killed the demon and walked out into the sun for the first time in over 200 years. He should thank Spike for that, but he wasn't.
Spike would have been some cocky peasant boy back in London covered in filth if Angel hadn't of found him. He taught Spike how to be a vampire, how to rise above most of the undead and rule on his own. How to hunt, how too out smart one's opposite, and how to kill. Not just the mindless feedings of most vampires, but with skill. The thing was, that Spike always had some weakness. It had been one of Angelus's key lessons, "Never show any weakness, because your enemy will take advantage of it." It was the only thing that Angel agreed with the demon inside him: that one lesson.
Then Angel noticed something, Spike made no move to fight back, and he seemed gaunt, there were hallows carved under his eyes. Angel knew the look of a starved vampire when he saw one, because he had looked that way once himself not that long ago. Angel relaxed just a bit, dropping his fighting stance.
He asked, "What do you need Spike?" Why the hell am I doing this? Spike's my enemy, but he's also my creation, I made him, so I'm responsible for him. And Spike wouldn't starve himself without reason, maybe something happened to him.
Spike pointed to his head and answered, an annoyed tone to his voice, "These wacked scientist bastards put this blood thing in me. I can't hurt any living thing, if I try I get these bloody painful pains in my head. It hurts, mate, nearly knocks me down in the beginning and keeps on going until the person's not in any danger any more."
Despite Angel's mood, he smiled at the irony. He asked, "So, you're unable to perform then?"
Spike bristled. He snarled, "Yeah, that's it mate. I've been neutered."
Angel chuckled, he couldn't help it. Which was worse the Curse, or the Implant? The answer to that was simple. It was the curse. The only suffering Spike was going through was the fact that he couldn't feed. That was something that could easily be remised.
Joe Dawson, Watcher to Duncan MacLoud, and his best friend, watched as Methos did some creative searching on the computer. MacLoud leaned up against the table and watched as well. One of MacLoud's friends, a pretty decent Immortal name Braden, had been going on a killing spree lately, rashly beheading any Immortal that came within distance. Methos frowned as he scrolled through the morgue reports, more beheadings.
MacLoud leaned over and saw the name: RUSSEL WINTERS scrolled on the screen. Its date was a few months ago, in October. MacLoud said, "The millionaire, click him up Methos, I've think I've met him before."
There was a picture of a decent looking, middle-aged man dressed in an Armani suit and tie. He had this devilish smile on his face. Recognition blossomed in the Immortal's eyes as he said, "I've met him before, like a two hundred years ago."
"Immortal?" Joe asked.
"I didn't sense him," MacLoud said as he motioned for Methos to research the beheadings again.
There were six more. Joe recognized all the names. They were Immortals.
Braden hurt. He suffered. His wife had been murdered by an Immortal to get to him, and his daughter had been killed by a vampire. Braden didn't know who the Immortal was, he never met him, but he knew what killed his stepdaughter. Her name was Drusilla, and she was insane. He was going to make the fiend suffer, then kill her. While he was doing this, he was also killing his kind, until there was only him and some others he was absolutely sure of left.
Maybe he might be the last One. It didn't matter. The power that he received wouldn't bring Sandra or Helen back. The fighting just kept the pain away for a short time, gave him some sort of release. He did know how to get Drusilla though, and the answer was in this city.
He had found a girl named Willow who lived in a little town called Sunnydale on the Net. He had inquired about vampires and she innocently gave him the address of a catalogue of vampires on the Net. He had found that the insane vampire was also physic and that there was two people that she cared about more than the world. Her sire, Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, which Braden had heard of before, and William the Bloody, also known as Spike. From the profile, it said that she shared this strange bond with Angelus, and almost killed her paramour, Spike, because he had threatened Angelus. Angelus was the key, and Spike was just for an added bonis. He knew Angelus had come to Los Angeles, and he was going to find him.
Spike said, "I'm hungry, and your ex isn't feeding me."
Angel gripped his left hand so hard that his fingernails bit into his palms. Anger and sorrow started to rise up through his normal cool, cautious exterior. Spike looked at him, sorrow actually clouding his icy blue eyes. "Sorry mate, now I'm getting why you're like this all the time."
"Like what?" Angel sneered, looking up into the sky's orange glow. Like I care, Angel told himself as he awaited his fledgling's answer.
Spike waved a hand indicating Angel. He answered, "Brooding and crap. Not that I'm the type of person to brood, but I'm starting to get the gist of you now." The white-haired vamp leaned his head up against his wall and looked up in time with Angel.
Spike asked, "So, where's your little demonic partner?"
"He died," Angel answered sharply.
Spike grimaced as he offered, "You're constantly getting screwed, aren't you? This bloody world just likes to torture you. Been in Hell, left your true love, but that's understandable. Even though she was a pretty decent kisser."
Angel looked at him, his rage uncontrollable. He snarled, "YOU WHAT?"
Spike's eyes got huge, like he was saying, "Oh, damn, I just made a big mistake." Angel slammed him up against the wall, trying to crush his throat with his bear hand. Angel smashed the other vampire's head agenst the wall. Spike flinched and grabbed Angel's arm. Angel shook him off and snarled, more quietly, more dangerously, "You did what?"
Spike managed to shake Angel off. Angel pushed him back, strait into a tower of garbage cans. The cans fell all around the leather-clad vampire, some of them hitting his head. Spike stood up and took a stance. Angel knew that he didn't have a chance. Spike was half-starved and Angel was strong and healthy, along with being very pissed.
"Now you know how I feel," Spike spat at him. Angel knew that he was talking about Dru, but he didn't care. He kept advancing.
Spike tried to ration, "Okay, mate, do you think your little Slayer would kiss me? She would rather send me to Hell, like she did you! Do you think I would want to kiss her, your castoff? Nope mate, I would rather rip her throat out! But I can't."
"Why not?" Angel asked quietly. Real fear flashed in Spike's eyes. It was a tone that meant death to anyone who had angered Angelus. It meant that they were going to get a slow, very painful death.
"Because her little witch gel pal smacked a double whammy on us!" Spike shouted.
Angel told Spike with a deadly calm, "Willow would never cast a love spell like that on Buffy."
Spike replied, "But, she did cast a wish spell that went wary. Anything the little witch said came true."
Angel sarcastically asked, "So she said that you two should what? Fall in love?"
"Get married, actually," Spike meekly answered. Angel slacked off. It was nice to know that he wasn't the only vampire suffering emotionally.
"Why did Willow do such a thing?" Out of all of Buffy's friends, Willow had been the nicest to him, and the closest to Buffy.
Spike took a cigarette from his duster and lit it. He sucked smoke into his dead lungs as he answered, "She's upset. Her Wolfe left her, just up and left Sunnyhell without a word, not as much as a note."
"Oz left Sunnydale?" Angel asked in disbelief. Oz left Willow?
Spike nodded. "Yep, killed another werewolf and left because he 'didn't know who' he was or some garbage. Not pretty, mate."
Poor Willow, Angel thought as an image of the pixie-like witch in training entered his mind. Spike said, "So, I came here to see if you could help me." Then he quietly added, "Or just get me something to eat."
Angel just shook his head, not knowing what to say. Then, he sensed something, and so did Spike. Angel tensed up. Suddenly, a figure jumped at them, swinging a sword at them.
Spike jumped away shouting, "Bloody Hell! Angelus, who is this person?"
The swordsman came at him again. Angel swerved gracefully away and drew the katana from his duster. The guy came at him again and Angel blocked his blow, then pinned him. The swordsman snapped, "I'll kill you demon." Then he took one look at Spike and added, "And you too."
Angel shoved him against the wall. The guy slumped in some trash and stood up, holding his sword at him. Spike shouted, "What are you waiting for? Kill him!"
Not that easy, Spike. Then he came at Angel again. Angel blocked the blow, but the swordsman was good. He swept Angel's feet from underneath of him. Angel fell to the wet pavement but the vampire was up instantly.
He has to be an Immortal, I'll bet my soul on it, Angel thought as he blocked another blow. He then lunged, sending the blade into his opponite's stomach. The swordsman looked down at the blade and jerked back, fresh blood seeping from the wound. Angel stared at the blood in fascinated hunger for a moment as the man slumped to the ground.
Spike walked over to Angel and looked at him. The other vampire said, "Took you long enough, but thanks for the meal." Spike's face transformed and he went to the dead man. Angel jerked him back and slammed him into the trash cans.
"Touch him and I'll kill you. Just because Xander called me up and told me that I couldn't doesn't mean I will," Angel told him dangerously. Then he turned his attention back on the Immortal.
Angel's hunch had been right, the Immortal was starting to wake up. Spike cursed, "Bloody hell, I saw you kill him."
Angel walked over to the Immortal, getting a good look at him. Early thirties, dark red hair, angular features, probably Celtic in origin. He bent down and took the Immortal's head in his hands. Then, with a sharp twist, he snapped his neck. The Immortal slumped to the ground. Angel lifted him up and told Spike, "Come on."
Spike cursed, "Listen Mate, if you think I'm gonna take orders from you like some freshly dead vamp, then your wrong."
"Do you want to live?" Angel told him sharply.
"I'm not afraid of you, mate," Spike bantered back.
Angel smiled grimly at the Immortal he was holding. He said, "Look Spike, when this guy wakes up he'll kill you. And you won't be able to stop him, even if you didn't have the implant."
Spike was curious. He asked, "What do you mean?"
Angel just smiled and walked out of the ally. He knew that Spike was following him.
MacLoud was about to close the antique shop when Angel walked in, carrying Braden over one shoulder. A shorter, slender young man with platinum blond hair followed him in, smoking a cigarette and observing the room with a head strong definence.
Methos asked, "Oh my god, Angel what happened?"
MacLoud walked over to Angel and helped the vampire slump his friend in a chair. Angel asked, "Is he a friend of yours?"
MacLoud nodded and answered, "Yes, his name's Braden."
The blond man snapped, in a thick Cockney accent, "Well, your mate tried to chop off our pretty heads tonight without any reason." Then he moved threateningly twards MacLoud.
Angel said, "Spike, you don't wanna mess with this guy."
"Oh, shut your hole Angelus," the Brit snapped at the vampire.
Angel shrugged and replied, "Well, I'll be sure to tell Dru the next time that I see her that you died because you were stupid."
Braden was waking up. He looked up at MacLoud and asked, "Duncan?"
MacLoud knelt beside his friend. Angel wasn't the type to keep a dangerous enemy alive, and if what the Brit was saying was true, Angel had saved him for a reason.
He saw a hole in Braden's shirt rimmed with blood. A stab wound. MacLoud answered, "Yes, my friend, I'm here."
He looked up directly at the vampire and his companion, which MacLoud was getting the feeling that Angel didn't like too much. Braden stood up and shouted, "You bastard! I'll kill the both of you! Exspecaly you Angelus!"
Angel asked, "I don't even know who you are, and you want to kill me."
"You're a blood sucking fiend, that's enough reason," Braden spat viciously.
Methos slammed a heavy book on a table and shouted, "Okay, just everyone stay calm and we'll discuss the problem rationally." Just like Methos, trying to avoid a fight.
MacLoud waited. Angel said, "Oh, this is Spike. He's a vampire, but you can't kill him." Then he added, "Regrettably."
"Shut up you wanker," Spike spat.
"But he can't hurt you either, but that's a long story that I don't know the whole of," Angel added, "He's been fixed. He can't hurt a living being or something like that. He doesn't have a soul."
Angel probably wanted Spike dead. Or hated him with a fiery passion.
Spike asked, "What the hell is going on?"
Angel ignored him and told MacLoud, "Your friend attacked us, I had a hunch that he would be an Immortal, and I was right. So I brought him here."
"You killed her," Braden sneered quietly.
"I haven't killed anyone in along time. I don't know what your talking about," Angel quietly told MacLoud's friend.
Angel waited for Braden's answer. Braden spat at him, "You made the thing that killed my baby girl."
Angel wasn't sure that he had heard the Immortal right. Immortals couldn't have children. He had read that and MacLoud had told him that. He looked at MacLoud and Methos for conformation. MacLoud looked as puzzled as Angel felt, and Methos only shrugged. "What do you mean? I thought Immortals couldn't have children," Angel asked gently.
The Immortal's pale green eyes flared as he sneered, "She was my daughter in everything other than blood. My wife was pregnant with her when we were married and I raised her as my own. I loved her almost as much as I loved Cara."
MacLoud said, "Braden, you never told me."
Braden looked down at his hands then back up into Angel's eyes. Angel recognized the look that Braden was giving him. It was the same look that MacLoud had given him the time that he had fount out what Angel was. The look vanished as easily as it came, anger and hate replacing it. Braden snapped, "I married my Cora seven years ago, and Samantha was born six months after that."
"How did Cora get pregnant?" Methos practically asked. One thing that Angel had learned about Methos, other than he liked to piss people off, was that he was very practical.
Braden looked down, hurt. He quietly answered, "Sam was the product of artificial insemination. We were already engaged when it happened, and we were wed soon after that." Angel felt sorry for the other Immortal. He had everything someone could ask for, and he loved it with all of his being, and it was taken from him.
Braden stood up and closed the distance between him and Angel. Angel held his ground and stared him strait in the eyes. Braden stated, coldly, his voice filled with hatred, "Recently Cora was murdered by another Immortal, I don't know who, but they killed her to get to me. Soon after, Sam was playing outside when this woman walked up to her. She started to sing to Sam, and I thought she looked pretty harmless."
Oh, god, it was Dru, Angel thought with rising horror. Braden's voice choked as he went on, "Dumbest mistake I made in my life. I heard Sam scream. You know when you hear something and you suddenly know you're never gonna forget it, that was one of those times.
"I ran out side to see Sam draped in the arms of the woman. Her face was horrible, and she had fangs . . . There were two puncture marks in Sam's neck, her eyes were blank. I knew she was dead. I ran over and grabbed Sam from her. I was too late, Sam was dead. The woman laughed at me as I started to cry and she sang to me, 'Run and . . ."
"'Catch, the lamb is in the blackberry patch,'" Angel finished bitterly. It was the song that Drusilla's mother had sung to her when she was still alive.
Spike murmured, "Dru . . ."
Sheer hatred burned in Braden's eyes. "You know who she is, you *made* her!"
Angel stood there, absolutely silent. He was too over ridden with guilt to answer. He seemed to do this a lot with a question he didn't want to answer. It was a bad habit.
Help came from an unexpected source. "Shut up you wanker, the man who changed Dru and myself is dead. Angel was once the baddest blood sucking bad ass out there, but now his fangs have been trimmed. He's got a soul, mate, a guilty conscience so to speak. That means, he's some sniveling, brooding shell of a man that he use to be," Spike snapped.
Angel looked over at him. Oh, he was pissed as hell at the other vamp, but he was also grateful. Braden went on, "I know who the both of you are. Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, and William the Bloody. I know * what* you are as well."
"So do we, mate," Spike sarcastically quipped.
MacLoud asked, "Angel, what is he talking about?"
Angel looked away, into the display case that once held the family portrait that he had painted. MacLoud, Methos, and Braden cast a refection, Angel and Spike did not. Angel swallowed, even though he didn't need to, and began, "When . . . I was at the height of my wickedness I met this girl in 1861 London. Her name was Drusilla. She was pure, pious, religious and chaste. As well as being physic and beautiful. She became an obsession for me. I drove her insane. I visited every mental torture I could devise for her. I seduced her, then started to play mind games with her. I killed all of her family and friends. She eventually fled to a convent. So, on the day she was taking her Holy Orders, I killed her."
Spike took up the tale, "I fell for her, mates, and hard. She was my baby. I would do anything for her and you know what? Angelus was always first. You know, I could kill a whole army of people and Angelus could always do something to top it off." Former mentor and student met each other's eyes. Anger and hatred brewed between them. Angel wanted to lop off Spike's blond head, and he figured that Spike wanted to do the same to him. Spike added, "Wanker."
Angel just ignored him. He was above name calling. Or so he would like to believe. Angel looked at MacLoud. The Immortal was so much a boy scout that Angel was afraid that he might try to kill him right there. They had engaged in a fight once, but Methos had stopped it before either one of them could gain the upper hand.
MacLoud just looked back at him. Suddenly, Angel felt a strange kinship with the Immortal. It was if he was saying, "One is a demon, and the other is a man. I'm looking at the man."
Angel smiled gratefully at him. Braden jumped at him and shouted, "Yeah, you made the thing that killed my baby girl."
Spike blew a ring of smoke into the air and observed, "I've think you've said that a few times already."
Methos asked, "So your going after this Drusilla by killing her ex-boyfriends and killing other Immortals just because you want vengeance?"
Angel looked at Methos. The Immortal shrugged and said, "Yeah, Braden's been on a killing spree lately. Vampires aren't the only thing he's been hunting."
Angel looked at Braden increadously. He was a killer. A guy seeking vengeance in the wrong manor. After he had killed everyone, what was he going to have left? Nothing. Angel knew this from experience. Spike took another drag and asked, "So this wanker isn't 'Mr. Goody-Two Shoes' then?"
"Like you have room to talk, you bloodsucking fiend!" Braden snapped back.
"Bite me," Spike replied with a puff of smoke. Then he added, "I'm a vampire, mate, I'm supposed to be bloody evil."
"Angel isn't," MacLoud said defensively. "Look, my friend, we fought together, and we didn't exactly see eye to eye, but I can tell you that Angel is not evil."
Sometimes I wonder that, Angel thought. He crossed his arms and looked away. Sometimes he did wonder. Sometimes he fount himself asking himself, "Why should I help them? They've brought me nothing but pain." Then Doyle would talk to him, or he would see Cordelia working in his office, or he would remember Buffy and her friends. Those were the types of people that Angel was working to save.
Methos said cryptically, "At least he wasn't one of the Four Horsemen." Angel looked at him and Methos grinned back. He was going to ask the ancient Immortal about that later.
Spike asked, "Hello, can anyone tell me what the bloody hell is going on here?"
Angel glanced at him and answered, pointing at each of them in turn, "That's Duncan MacLoud, and that's Adam Pericen, and they are far older than us. That's all you need to know."
Methos blinked, he must be surprised that Angel had covered him like that. Angel knew if Spike was ever returned back to normal and he knew about Immortals that there was going to be a war. Spike would probably blab to every vampire about what he fount out, or to Dru, which would probably be worse.
Methos replied, "My real name is Methos, Adam is just the name I use."
Braden's eyes widened as he glanced at Methos. He asked, "You're Methos?"
Methos nodded and said, "The one and only."
Braden shook his head in disbelief and said, "I expected something different from the oldest Immortal."
"Not so much as a smartass, huna?" Methos replied with a grin.
"You could say that," Braden replied as he sat back down in the chair.
MacLoud said, "We have to do something about Drusilla. She's dangerous."
Angel shook his head. He couldn't kill Dru; he had caused her so much pain already. He said, "It's not your place MacLoud."
"Like it or not, she's dangerous, you said it yourself," MacLoud replied.
"I don't care. If anyone's going after Dru, it's gonna be me," Angel all but growled. He was starting to loose his temper. So, who cares?
"No one's gonna hurt a hair on my Dru's head," Spike snapped.
Braden said, "She took my little girl."
Then Angel realized something. Dru had always loved children. She loved to play with them, loved to taunt them, and loved to eat them. She also always would have loved to change one but Angelus never let her. Angelus had thought that child vampires were a waste of time, and a pain to take care of. Angel now thought that a child vampire was discussing. They were vicious and dangerous.
He looked at Braden and said, "I don't think your daughter's truly dead then."
*************
Drusilla smiled down at Samantha. She was a truly lovely little girl and very well behaved. Not at all like Miss Edith. The child raised her curly blond head at Dru and looked at Dru with her huge liquid brown eyes. She sang, "Momma, I'm hungry!"
Dru flashed a smile at her, taking her small, cool hands. She told her, "My pet, we will get something to eat soon."
Samantha smiled and motioned Drusilla closer like she was going to tell her a secret. Dru did love secrets. She lowered her head as Samantha whispered, "My Daddy's special."
Dru had sensed that. Sam went on, "He can't die, unless you . . ." She made a macabre motion of her chopping off someone's head before she went on, delighting Dru. Sam went on, "And there are more like him, and Daddy could sense them."
"Do you think they want to play?" Dru asked. Sam nodded and smiled. Dru was delighted as she cooed, "Oh, goodie."
Hand in hand, fledgling and sire left the abandoned mansion that they had taken residence up in.
"What do you mean?" Braden asked.
Angel turned toward him and simply answered, "I mean that Drusilla changed your daughter. She's probably a vampire now."
Spike seconded this by saying in a puff of smoke, "By damn, he's right. Your brat might be one of us."
Angel stared at Spike, his fury rising. He had the urge to behead the vampire right then and there. Spike was taking some pleasure in all of this. Angel knew what he was thinking: That Spike was going to see his precious "Ducks" soon. Angel felt the demon stirring in him. A cruel remark was forming on his mouth, one that would really anger and hurt Spike.
Ah, what the hell, why not, Angel thought before he cruelly quipped, "Spike, she isn't going to want you. You can't even hurt a fly without getting a migraine. Why would she want a demon who's been 'fixed'?"
Spike's icy eyes sparked in rage. That's what I wanted to see. Spike snarled, "Shut your bloody hole."
"Or what? You're gonna curse me? Call me a wanker? Tell me to go to 'bloody' Hell?" Angel easily replied.
Spike's eyes narrowed as he approached Angel. Methos said, "Okay children, enough. Play time's over."
Angel looked at Methos. The ancient Immortal backed down. He said, "No, I wanna hear this."
Braden said, "Yeah, maybe you could kill each other."
"Go to Hell!" Spike snarled.
Angel's smile was bitter as he answered, "Been there, done that."
MacLoud stepped between them. He said, "Enough you two. If we're gonna work together to help find this Drusilla, we need to get along."
"We're not gonna hurt a hair on my Duck's head," Spike snarled.
Angel smiled. He was enjoying this. Maybe a little too much, but the vampire didn't care. He wasn't in the mood to care. He had been screwed over so many times in the past years that he couldn't, and did not want to, keep count. He had been sent to Hell, he had been taunted with the images of what he had done in the past by the First Evil, been tempted in a way that if he had succumbed to it the world could have ended, the one sweet day that he had became human with Buffy, what they had shared, only to give it up because if he wasn't a vampire, with all of the strengths and power, fighting for the side of good, she would die alone, and Doyle's death. He deserved this.
Then what Spike said next brought his soul back to its normal grieving state, "You made Dru, and you made me, we are only products of you."
Angel looked down, grief struck. Damn him, damn that little white haired vampire to hell and back. Let him suffer this much.
Then Braden said, "I don't know about your friend, I'm loathe to admit this, but you're not the same creature who made what took my baby away." Angel looked up into the Immortal's green eyes. Braden looked down ashamed, saying, "You're not the same creature. I can see that now."
"That's what he's been trying to tell you," Methos pointed out.
MacLoud asked, "What about your friend?"
"Spike's not my friend," Angel sharply replied.
"I'm not that wanker's friend," Spike said pointy.
Angel's head was beginning to hurt. He didn't want any more of this. He just wanted to rest and be rid of this, all of this. Exspecaly the damn Powers that Be. He answered, "He has an implant that harms him whenever he tries to hurt someone. He's harmless and helpless. He's been fixed."
"Could everyone quit saying that?" Spike cried.
Angel shook his head, and looked back at Braden. He asked, "What do you want to do now?"
Braden asked, "Would she be Sam still?"
Angel shook his head. Child vampires were usually vicious and animalistic. They were true fiends. Angel answered for him regretfully, "No, she wouldn't. She would have all of Sam's memories and even parts of her personality, but she would be a demon." He added, "And, in my experience, child vampires are usually monsters, more so than most. They are angry that they're never gonna grow up and being stuck as a child forever." Then he remembered the Anointed One.
Spike said, "The Annoying one wasn't, he was kind of spooky though." Angel was glad that he had never met the Anointed, or Annoying One, as Spike liked to refer to him as. But the Anointed One was special, a chosen demon in a prophecy. Spike grinned as he added, "But he made a nice piece of toast, though." Angel shook his head. Spike was never going to change.
"Who's the Annoying One?" MacLoud asked.
"A child vampire really called the Anointed One. He was supoce to be used as a secret weapon, but Spike killed him," Angel answered.
"Damn strait. I wasn't going to allow some bloody brat control over Sunnyhell," Spike replied.
MacLoud looked at him quissicaly, but Angel just shrugged his shoulders in reply. Then, the door opened, revealing Joe Dawson hobbling into the shop. Joe looked at Angel, then Braden, and finally Spike. He asked, "Okay, what the hell is going on?"
Methos answered, summing everything up in less than six sentences, "Oh, Angel made this vampire a really long time ago who killed Braden's daughter and probably changed the kid as well. Before this happened Braden's wife was killed by an unknown Immortal. Braden's been killing Immortals, while hunting these two vampires. The white-haired Brit is a vampire, his name's Spike, but he's supposably harmless. He tried to kill Angel, but Angel figured out that he was an Immortal, killed him, and brought him here."
Spike asked, "Who the hell is he?"
MacLoud answered, "Joe Dawson, he's a Watcher."
Spike's eyes widened in disbelief. Angel felt his lips tug into a grin. He knew what Spike was thinking as the vampire asked, "There's another Slayer in L.A.?"
Angel just grinned and shook his head. He said, "It's a long story that you wouldn't understand, Spike."
Joe asked MacLoud, "How long has he been here?"
"Fifteen minutes," MacLoud carefully answered.
"Then Braden isn't the only one on a head hunt then," Joe said.
"There's been another killing?" Methos asked.
Joe nodded and answered, "Yeah, Heather Williams."
"Heather is only fifty years old, and she lives in a convent. How did he get her?" MacLoud asked.
Angel crossed his arms. He didn't like how they kept referring to this Immortal killer as a "he". MacLoud probably didn't know that some of the most dangerous people out there were women. Faith. Darla. Drusilla. Buffy. Any other Slayer. Angel spoke up, "How do we know this killer is a male? We don't have any proof exactly."
Every Immortal and Joe looked at him. Spike just took another drag of his cigarette and looked up at the ceiling. MacLoud asked, "Why do you think that this Immortal is a woman?"
Because it smacks of an insane woman's emotional games. Angel shrugged and replied, "Just a thought."
Then MacLoud and Methos looked up and around. They had probably sensed another Immortal. Spike rolled his eyes, stood up and said, "It's been fun mates, but I'm leaving now." He looked at Angel and said, "I'll be waiting for you back at the office." With that he strutted out of the shop.
Spike walked down the streets of L.A., looking curiously at all that was going on. It would have been a marvelous feeding ground if it wasn't for that bloody implant. He was getting hungry. He could feel it.
He thought about what Angel had said in the shop. The bastard was right. How did Angel do that? He was *always* right. Spike took out a cig and lit it, heavily puffing it in frustration.
Who was the Scot? What was the whole "Immortal" thing that they were talking about? What the bloody hell was going on? Who was the cripple? How did Angelus know them?
Bloody hell. This was much too complicated for Spike's taste.
Her name was Illiana Shorski, and she was 209 years old. She was born in Russia and raised by the Cossacks. They taught her how to fight, how to live, and how to exact vengeance. Braden had recently killed her lover, so she was getting her revenge. She had killed his wife, and someone else had killed his daughter, saving her the chore.
She was also taking the heads of any weak Immortal, like that Heather woman. The nun. She looked into Duncan MacLoud's shop, at the three Immortals and the two mortals. One of the mortals was quite handsome. He was tall, broad shouldered, dark haired and there was something *otherworldly* about him.
He wasn't going to die, that was for sure. MacLoud was. That was a definite. MacLoud was too dangerous to live, and so was Braden, but she was going to make sure he suffered for sure.
She looked over at the white-haired man who walked out of the shop. He was handsome as well, but she didn't really care for his looks. He didn't have that otherworldly grace about him.
She moved closer, making sure that Braden and his companions could sense her. Then she felt a sharp tug at her cloak. She spun around to see a small girl sitting on the pavement in a flounce of peach silk. She had curly blond ringlets and huge brown eyes. She was a pretty child, but Illiana didn't care.
She said, "Go home little girl, this is no place for you."
The little girl moved up quickly and smoothly. There was something wrong with the child's smile. It was evil. Not that Illiana was a saint, but the look puzzled the Immortal. Then the child's face changed into something hideous with yellow eyes and glittering fangs.
The child snarled before she struck. Illiana had no time to react. The girl sank her fangs into her throat. Illiana could feel her drinking deeply as she began to die. A *vampyre*. The creatures were real.
Illiana thought about this for a moment before she plunged into darkness.
Sam licked her blood stained lips, clearly enjoying the taste. This blood was richer than any other she had tasted, other than her momma's . Momma walked over to her and took her hand. She mumered in her pretty singsong voice, "She was a pretty thing luv."
Sam thought she might be like her old Daddy was. She took Momma's hand and whispered secretively to her, "Wait."
Angel just wanted to leave. To shut himself out of the damn world and not let it touch him. Or go find some vampires and beat the living shit out of them. Where was Spike? Like that he cared, but he could be somewhere, doing something to someone. Braden was giving him a hard time by just being there, being a reminder of all the things Angel had done in his horrible life.
MacLoud looked over at him, so did Methos. Angel looked down at the display case and ignored them. There was something in there that made his heart twist suddenly though. An antique Claddagh ring glistened up at him, nestled in crimson velvet.
Damn, this has not been my night. Or my week. Or my year. Or my century. What's that human phrase? Yeah, that I should go take a short walk off a long peer, or something like that.
"Okay, that's just *wrong*," he murmured to himself. Luckily only Methos heard him, but the ancient Immortal wasn't paying any attention. MacLoud asked, "What is it?"
Angel quickly turned away from the symbol that brought up so many painful memories for him. He quickly answered, "Nothing."
He wanted to go home, or out hunting. Not for Dru, well, he would ask a couple of local vamps if they had seen her, but not exactly for Dru. Yet. He said, "Look, I know somethings that you don't, and have some connections that you don't. I'll let you know if I find anything about Drusilla." With that he strolled out of the shop.
He didn't notice the pretty blond girl sprawled out on the ground with a child and a grown woman in a burgundy gown standing beside her.
Dru grabbed Sam's hand. She had just seen Angel. Her daddy, her sire, her greatest love. She pointed to his walking figure and asked, "Isn't he beautiful luv?"
It was a rush to see him like this. He was alive. That horrible bitch who made the stars scream in pain didn't kill him. The moon suddenly started to sing to Dru, singing to her about her Angel's pain, how he needed to be comforted.
Sam asked, "Who is he?"
Drusilla smiled as she began to waver to that special music that she could only hear. She could hear the stars singing to her as well as the moon. She answered, "My Angel."
"Angels are real?" Samantha asked doubtfully.
Dru nodded as she took the child's hand and spun her into a dance. She looked into Sam's huge brown eyes and answered, "Yes, and they are very dark."
Then there was a sword pointed at both of their throats. Dru saw that the blond woman had indeed awakened, and that there were dragons in her nightshade eyes.
She hissed, "What are you?"
Samantha asked her, "You're an Immortal, aren't you?" She asked it in a sing song voice like it was some all big game, which it was.
The woman blinked in surprise, the nightshade in her eyes clouding in confusion. She asked, "Your Braden's daughter, aren't you?"
Sam rocked gleefully on her heels. Dru stroked her hair as she looked down at the pretty, little blond maiden with the eyes like the purest nightshade. The woman smiled and asked, "Are you hunting him as well, little demon?"
Sam nodded. Dru had thought right. The Immortals did want to play their game. Dru leaned closer to her and asked in a conspiriting whisper, "Would you like to play?"
The Immortal smiled, the dragons flashing in her eyes. She said, "I am Illiana Shorski."
Sam giggled and said, "I am Sam, and this is my Mommy, Drusilla."
Illiana smiled, and so did Dru. It was like all one big tea party without any of the mess and the horribly wicked guests.
"Don't we need Angelus here to find Drusilla?" Braden asked.
Methos looked at MacLoud with a "Whatever" shrug. Joe scratched his head and asked, "Mac, what just happened here?"
MacLoud quickly Joe everything that had happened. Joe looked confused as he said, "Another vampire, great."
Methos shrugged and said, "Well, at least he'll be fun to bother."
MacLoud looked at Methos, the older Immortal just grinned. Braden asked, "I mean, what if Angelus gets killed . . . We'll have no way in hell to find Sam."
MacLoud felt a chill down his spine. The thought of turning an innocent girl into some *monster* was sickening to him. He was raised as a Catholic. Vampires weren't real. Well, Angel and his companion Spike were obvious proof of that. First, he wanted to know a little more about this Drusilla.
Angel threw the vampire into the bar, shattering the various bottles of whisky and other hard liquors around him. The vamp stood up, shaking glass and liquor off of his demonic features. He snarled at Angel, "I told you Angelus, I don't know who your talking about."
Another vampire jumped up to help his friend. Without turning, Angel reached out and slammed his body into the pool table to his left. The creature snarled and broke a pool Que in half, fashioning it into a steak. He charged at Angel. Big mistake. Angel released the steak in the mechanical mechanism in his arm and slammed it into the bastard's heart.
He exploded into a cloud of ash around Angel. Angel calmly walked over, grabbed a shattered bottle, and lifted the vampire off the ground. He slammed his body into the bar and looked up around at the several pairs of glowing, golden eyes starring at him.
Angel calmly demanded, "Now, if anyone has any information on Drusilla, I would gladly appreciate it."
"Go to hell, Soul Boy," the vampire he was holding down snarled at him.
Angel shook his head. He flipped the broken glass bottle in his hands and moved it threateningly to the vampire. He reasonably told him, "I can do all kinds of painful things to you with this bottle. I don't want you dead." Angel smiled at him kindly, which made the vampire back up in fear. He said, "I'm not nice enough for that."
The vampire blurted out, "Dru's running around L.A. She's got some brat with her, you know how she is, she's cooky. Wacked severely in the head. I know. I use to work for Spike."
Angel sensed as Spike entered the bar. He watched out of his prorifial vision as the white-haired vampire cockily approached them. Spike slapped the vampire in anger. Apparently, he could hurt other vampires. He said, "Allo, Kento, long time no see, ehe?"
The vamp named Kento tried to squirm away. He shouted, "Spike, man, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to abandon you like that. The Slayer was gonna kill us all, along with her lap dog."
Angel punched him for the insult. Spike leaned up against the bar, took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag. Puffing the smoke out, he said, "Well, Angelus here is no longer anyone's lap dog. If you had a brain in that swollen head of yours, you would have already told him where my baby was at."
Angel looked over at the fledgling curiously. Spike shrugged as he took another drag. Angel slammed Kento on the wooden bar. He asked, "Do you know where Drusilla's at?"
Kento nodded as he answered, "Yeah, she's at that abandoned mansion near Chinatown. You know, the black one that was home to that one artist before he committed suicide."
Angel looked at Spike. He told the other vampire, "I know where that's at."
Spike said, "I don't care, we're not gonna hurt Dru."
Angel rolled his eyes and asked, "Didn't she leave you with some chaos demon, or something?"
Spike looked embarrassed as he answered, "It was a fungus demon this time."
Angel shuttered, that was just discussing. He admitted, "But Dru can do so much better than that."
Spike nodded and looked over at the pale bartender. He asked, "Human blood? Got any?"
The bartender looked nervous as he held out a green bottle from the refrigerator. Spike took it from him and smiled. Angel asked, "Why didn't you just get some from Willy?"
Spike uncorked the bottle and said, "Willy's not scared of me anymore."
Angel chuckled as he shook his head. The bartender asked, "Would you like anything sir? It's on the house."
Angel shrugged. Why not. He answered, "Pig's blood." Spike looked over at him and grimaced. Angel shrugged as he took a matching green bottle away from the bartender. He hadn't touched human blood since . . . He wasn't going to think about that now, or ever again. Well, he was going to try not to.
He uncapped the bottle and stared down at the red liquid. Hunger rushed through him like a freight train. He felt his face began to transform when Kento grabbed his arm, growling.
Angel saw the makeshift steak in his hand. He twisted the other vampire's hand around and slammed it into his unbeating heart. In a shriek, Kento exploded into a cloud of ash and settled to the grimy floor. Angel watched the last traces of the ash settle and said, "Idiot."
He licked his lips and looked over at Spike. Spike said, "Thanks for the free meal, Mate."
Great. He had killed two vampires and terrified a bartender all in the last ten minutes. It must be some kind of new record for him. He stood up from the bar. The blood was untouched. He walked out, out to find Duncan MacLoud, the Highlander.
Illiana looked at the two vampires. Vampires, they really do exist, she thought with awe mixed with horror. Sam and Drusilla, and they were hunting Braden as well. This was all too perfect. They were also quite insane, and she could use that to her advantage. She tossed her long hair and watched them.
They were playing with a set of dolls. Illiana sat down on the floor, closing her eyes. She smiled as she thought of what she was going to do to Braden.
MacLoud had fount Angel fighting four others of his kind. He was about to move in and help the vampire when Angel rolled away, sealing two of them as he went down. On his way up, the other two found wooden steaks in their hearts.
MacLoud watched in fascination as the bodies exploded into a cloud of greyish ash, floating to the ground. Angel dusted himself off and turned to see MacLoud.
The vampire asked, "How do you do it?"
"What?" MacLoud asked, truly puzzled.
Angel pulled a katana from his duster and absently checked his blade for blood. He said, "The damn sword keeps stabbing me. How do you hide it?"
Despite himself, MacLoud chuckled. He answered, "It's a talent."
Angel looked down at the blade of his sword for a moment. He looked back at MacLoud and asked, "Well, how do I keep it from stabbing me in the leg?"
MacLoud shook his head and answered, "Just be careful with it."
Angel smirked, "Careful, not really one of my strong points."
MacLoud looked at the piles of ash caused by the scuffle and thought for a moment on why he had tracked the vampire. It was hard. It wasn't like another Immortal that he could sense, so he had been trying to think like a vampire, which wasn't easy.
He asked, "Any word on this Drusilla?"
Angel nodded as he placed the sword back into his duster. He answered, "Yeah, she's here. With a kid. She's been making rounds lately." He shook his head and said, "I didn't even get wind of it."
"Los Angeles is a pretty big city," MacLoud told him.
Angel shrugged and said, "Well, there's that, and Dru's not your ordinary vamp."
"What do you mean?" MacLoud asked as they began to walk down the dirty streets. Things were starting to sound a lot worse than before.
Angel answered, a little ashamed, definitely very guilty, "She had visions, still does. She's a physic. That's one of the reasons I changed her in the first place. She can hypnotize her victims among other things."
MacLoud felt a shiver down his spine. He hadn't quite believed that Angel was truly evil in his day when he told him about the curse and everything else. Now, he wasn't so sure. Angel chuckled and looked up to the sky.
The vampire asked, "Are you going to cut my head off now, or do you wanna wait?"
MacLoud looked at him and asked, "Why do assume that I want to cut off your head?"
Angel smirked as he answered, "You're an overgrown boy scout, and, to you, I'm some wicked monster. So, what do Knights in Shining Armor do?"
MacLoud asked innocently, "Get the damsel in distress?" He knew what the vampire was getting too. They had that in common. They both protected the innocent, but they just did it in different ways.
Angel answered, "I wish. Besides, I don't go into the whole distressed damsel routine, not my type. Anyway, they fight and slay demons."
MacLoud frowned, the vampire did have a point. They looked at each other, two sides of the same coin, working differently for the same goal. Then he asked, "The Knights or the damsels?"
Angel looked up to the sky. The vampire did that a lot, MacLoud noticed. He looked back at MacLoud and answered, "Sometimes both."
MacLoud had to smile. He suddenly knew the reason that the vampire had immigrated to Los Angeles. He asked, "Is that why you came here?"
Angel shrugged and said, "That's a story for another time." Then the vampire smirked, "And a few pints of beer."
MacLoud chuckled and couldn't believe him. Misery loved company, he guessed.
Angel asked, "How did you find me?"
They started to walk again. MacLoud thought of the irony of a 400 year old Immortal and a 200-+ year old vampire walking the streets of L.A. unnoticed. MacLoud shrugged and replied, "Lucky, I guess."
"Sure," the vampire drawled. Then his eyes narrowed as he saw something. Then MacLoud sensed it. His whole head started to buzz with the presence of another Immortal.
Angel asked, "Can you see them?"
"Who?" MacLoud answered, peering into the darkness and seeing nothing.
"Damn it!" Angel cursed as he took off in that direction. MacLoud followed him, trying to keep up. The vampire was fast, and he easily out distanced MacLoud into the ally they were just peering into.
MacLoud ran in after him to see something horrible. There was a child and a young woman holding another young woman, an Immortal. The Immortal was in her late teens, maybe early twenties with long, pale blond hair. The other young woman was dressed in a crimson gown, her face twisted into the demonic features of the vampire, her dark hair tumbling into her glowing eyes.
Angel snarled, "Dru, let the girl go."
The child giggled, tossing her blond ringlets, displaying fangs and glowing eyes as well. MacLoud felt physically ill. How could someone do that to a child? What kind of monster could . . .
The Immortal screamed. Where was her sword? Why wasn't she fighting the vampires? Something was wrong, and MacLoud couldn't put his finger on it. The Immortal cried out, "Oh gods, don't let them hurt me!" She wasn't talking to macloud. She was talking to Angel. Then MacLoud suddenly got it. She was new to the Game.
Angel moved closer and glared at the one called Drusilla. He snarled, "Let the girl go, Drusilla."
Both vampires giggled. Angel tensed up. This was the vampire's turf, but there was another Immortal involved now, a damsel in distress. Drusilla rolled her head and said, "You've been a very bad Daddy, you know. I know how she hurt you. You've seen the Flames. I can see it in your eyes."
Angel's eyes narrowed as he snarled, "Leave her out of this Dru. She's not part of my life. Not anymore."
Drusilla shoved the Immortal girl to the ground. The child fiend, who was probably Samantha, growled, twisted her hand in the girl's long hair, and jerked, bringing her neck to fang level.
Drusilla approached him and murmured, "That's why you came to the City of Demons, to get away from her. You didn't hurt her. She hurt you. How does it feel My Angel?"
Angel didn't move. He just stood there and glared. MacLoud took it to himself to save the young Immortal. He brought his sword out from his coat and said, "Let the girl go."
Then Samantha buried her fangs into the young Immortal's throat. MacLoud watched in horror as the child drained the Immoral dry. Her body hit the ground with a wet slump, and she looked up at MacLoud and licked the blood off her lips.
Angel looked at the girl then back at Drusilla. He snarled, "This isn't over yet, Dru." He ran past, pushed the child fiend to the ground, lifted up the young Immortal, and ran toward MacLoud. He grabbed MacLoud and sprinted out of the ally, dragging MacLoud with him.
MacLoud jerked out of his grip and asked, "What the hell are you doing?"
Angel looked back into the ally. He wasn't afraid. Macloud could see that. He looked down at the young Immortal in his arms, checked her pulse and cursed, "Damn it, I was too late."
MacLoud replied, "No, she's fine."
"What the hell are you saying MacLoud?" Angel snarled. He must have lost a friend recently. I was like this after I killed Richie, MacLoud realized.
"You lost someone recently, didn't you?" MacLoud asked sympathetically.
Angel looked down at the girl like he was about to say, "Yeah, her." But she started to stir, and he looked up at MacLoud in surprise. He said, "She's an Immortal." Then he looked down at her small form. MacLoud did as well. She was a pretty thing, little, young, delicately formed. He asked, "Why couldn't she fend them off with her sword?"
"I'm thinking that she's really new to the Game. That she has a teacher and doesn't know all the ropes yet," MacLoud answered.
The girl woke up screaming.
****************
Methos watched in surprise as the vampire known as Spike walked into the shop. He sat down, looking pissed, and grunted, "I lost Angel. So I decided to wait here till the wanker comes back."
Methos smiled wickedly at his computer screen. Joe had to go back to the bar and shut it down, so here he was alone with the vampire. This was going to be fun. Methos asked, to get the ball rolling, "How did you lose Angel?"
Spike took a cigarette from the long leather duster he wore, lit it and took a drag. Smoking was a discussing habit in Methos's opinion. He answered in his thick Cockney accent, "I got a bite to eat. Angel bailed."
Methos raised an eyebrow at him and replied, "Guess Angel wasn't hungry then."
Spike shrugged, taking another drag and blowing the smoke out. He said, "Well, you know. He's a white hat, and was defanged."
"By what?" Methos asked curiously.
"Love, and a pesky curse," Spike answered in a cowboy's drawl.
Methos spun his chair to face the vampire, who seemed so out of place in this environment. He asked, "So you and Angel use to run together then?"
"And Dru," Spike answered nodding.
"Use to be a badass."
"Still am," Spike replied through a cloud of smoke.
Methos smiled and drawled, "Oh, really, then why are you here?"
Spike rose up, ready to tear out Methos' throat. The ancient Immortal wasn't scared. Spike reached out for him, then crumbled to the ground in horrible pain. "Look like a real bad ass to me," Methos drawled as Spike got up.
"Shut up you wanker," the vampire spat.
Oh, this was all too easy. Methos smiled, leaned back into his chair and replied, "Or what, you're gonna bite me?"
The small Immortal woke up in Angel's arms, shrieking at MacLoud. She tried to scramble higher in Angel's arms. He almost dropped the small blonde. He stroked her long, pale hair and said, "Shhhhh, it's okay. Duncan's not going to hurt you."
She looked warily at MacLoud and gripped at Angel's duster. She said, "Those things . . . Where they what I think they were?" She had a pleasing voice, soft and melodic if she wasn't shrieking in terror.
Angel nodded and said, "But we won't let them hurt you." She looked up at Angel with wide violet eyes. Trusting, frightened eyes. Angel knew that moment nothing was going to get the girl.
MacLoud gently asked, "What's your name, who's your teacher?"
She ran a small hand through her pale hair. Angel sat her to the ground, waiting for what she had to say. She answered, "My name is Illiana Shorski, and my teacher was Heather Williams. She was killed tonight . . ." Her voice choked as she started to sob, turning to Angel.
Angel blinked in surprise as she wrapped her arms around him and started to cry. He held her back, gently stroking her hair. MacLoud gave him a look like he was saying, "Yeah, like you *really* doesn't like the damsels in distress."
Angel gave him a "Why me?" look in return. The damsels just sort of flocked to him. But, this girl who was soaking his silk shirt wasn't meant to be a damsel. It would get her killed.
"He's hunting any Immortal, just to get the Quickening," she murmured, grabbing fist-fulls of Angel's shirt like he was her only salvation. Angel gently pulled her away and looked down into her huge dark violet eyes.
He asked, "Who is? What's his name?"
Illiana chewed on her lip and played with the cuff of her purple sweater. She answered, "I don't know his name. I don't know who he is. I just remember his face."
"What does he look like?" MacLoud asked carefully. He went to the girl, probably wanting to comfrote her, but she shrank back against Angel. Why did they always do that? She was safer with MacLoud than she was with him.
MacLoud, the world's most overgrown boy scout VS. Angelus, the most vicious vampire whoever lived. Himmm, easy choice there.
"Don't let him cut off my head," she begged to Angel, glancing nervously at MacLoud.
Angel bent his knees so he was at eye level with her. He was tempted to brush the strands of hair out of her large eyes. She looked a little bit like Buffy, he realized. If her hair was cut shorter, and her eyes weren't violet she could be Buffy's older sister. Maybe that reminder of her made him feel a little more protective toward her than most of the young women he saved.
He said, "Duncan won't hurt you. No one's gonna cut off your head here. I promise."
"Really?" she asked as hope bloomed in her violet eyes.
He couldn't help but smiling at her as he answered, "Really."
She looked over at MacLoud nervously and the Immortal smiled in return as he said, "Hi, I'm Duncan. You don't have to worry anymore. I don't want your head."
She turned to Angel. Angel smiled down at her once more, held out his hand for her to take, and said, "I'm Angel."
Angel, Illiana silently said the name, letting the letters roll off her tongue, liking the sound of it. She licked her lips as she looked up at the tall, dark, broad-shouldered, and handsome young man who was holding her hand. He had the most exquisite brown eyes, extremely dark and focused. His hand was cold, but she didn't mind, it was slightly chilly out anyway.
Her neck was still tingling a little bit. She didn't like having her blood drained from her twice in one night. It just wasn't a pleasant experience. Hopefully the insane vampire and her demon brat would be happy to play with MacLoud for a while. She wanted this mortal for herself.
She saw the flash of recognition in Angel's eyes when he looked at her. She obviously reminded him of someone who he cared about, so she could use that to her advantage if she tried to seduce him. She looked up at his profile and shoulders once more. Try nothing. She was.
She asked, keeping the scared little girl routine up, "Where are we going?"
Angel smiled down at her reassuringly, like he had rescued a lot of damsels before. He answered, "To MacLoud's shop, that's all. You'll be safe there."
She bit her lip, picked at her sweater, and looked up at Angel. She shyly asked, "Will you be there?"
He smiled down at her and simply answered, "Of course."
Illiana tucked strands of her hair behind her ears in a nervous gesture. She looked around, still pretending to be frightened. She said, "Good, I feel safe then."
Angel, for some reason, rolled his eyes. Like he didn't believe that he was a safe person to be around. Intriguing. Illiana studied him for a moment quissicaly before he looked down at her and flashed that sweet, reassuring smile of his. She couldn't help to smile back, as she thought of what fun she was going to have with him.
MacLoud unlocked the door to his shop when he heard two voices arguing.
A male voice, unmistakingly Methos, said smugly, "You're not much, are you, child?"
A thick Cockney accent shouted in return, "I'll rip you limb from limb, you wanker." Then a few threatening footsteps and a cry of pain.
Illiana looked at Angel fearfully as she sensed Methos. MacLoud was use to the powerful buzz of Methos in his mind, so it wasn't a really big shock to him, but to a new Immortal like Illiana it could be over whelming. Angel bent down and reassured her, "He's a good guy, I promise."
Methos hissed, "Shhush, you idiot, I sense someone."
"What the bloody hell are you . . . Angel's here," Spike replied. Both vampire and Immortal emerged from the office. The vampire seemed very angry, and Methos seemed just a smug and pleased with himself as normal. Then Methos frowned as he saw the girl.
Spike's eyes widened as he looked like Illiana. Then he looked at Angel as he said, "She looks like . . ."
"I know," Angel cut him off as he moved protectively beside the girl.
There was something about her that MacLoud couldn't place, something not right. More than four hundred years of experience made one a good judge of character. Now he was unsure about the helpless blond girl standing beside him by the vampire.
Angel said, "Illiana, this is Spike and Adam, they won't hurt you."
"Hello Illiana," Methos said to her like he was talking to a small child. Which he probably thought he was. To someone as old as Methos everyone seemed like children and every mortal was dying around him, it was just a matter of time.
She tugged at her sweater and backed against Angel. Angel, probably unconsciously, protectively placed his hands on her small shoulders. She was looking at Spike wearily. Angel glared at the other vampire, and Spike just grinned back. MacLoud knew that they were bitter rivals and enemies, but were at once friends, and Spike harbored a bit of grudging respect for the older vampire.
Angel said, "Spike's just harmless, really. He couldn't hurt a fly. I promise."
Illiana still looked nervous. Methos smiled and then mentioned MacLoud into his office. He really didn't like it when people ushered him into his own office or were waiting for him there like they owned the place. Unfortunately, most of his friends did that.
Methos shut the door and said, "Okay, little lost Immortal again MacLoud."
"She needed help," MacLoud sheepishly replied.
"She needed Mr. Tall-Dark-Brooding-Good-Guy-Creature-Of-The-Night out there, and Angelus isn't even noticing it," Methos replied with gesturing to Angel and Illiana.
MacLoud couldn't help but to notice that Spike said that she looked like someone, and Angel's reply that made it sound like she looked like someone whom he had cared deeply for, that might be dead. MacLoud had fallen for that trick once, and was afraid that the vampire might be falling for it now.
MacLoud said, "Spike mentioned that she looked like someone, and Angel cut him off before he could finish."
"A mortal love affair that ended badly?" Methos asked.
MacLoud nodded. Then he said, "I don't think that there was a coincidence that her Teacher was Heather Williams, and that we found her under Braden's daughter's fangs." He noticed that Braden wasn't there. He asked, "Where did Braden go?"
"With Joe. And I'm surprized that your chivalry hasn't kicked in yet," Methos replied.
MacLoud shook his head and said, "Or maybe I'm wrong. She's just a girl."
"So was Kiristen," Methos smoothly replied. MacLoud glared at her.
Angel handed Illiana a cup of tea and she looked up at him. She asked, "Are you going to stay with me tonight?"
Angel shrugged as he sat down beside her in the shop. She put her hand on his shoulder and said, "I didn't mean it that way. I just don't want to be alone after what happened."
Angel nodded, and an uneasy silence fell across them. He asked, "So, when did you become an Immortal?"
Illiana took a sip of her tea and answered, "Umm, about two months ago. It was in a car accident. I died and I woke up on the corner's slab. I just grabbed a lab coat and ran. It was so frightening."
"I can imagine," Angel told her sympatheticaly.
"How do you know about Immortals? You're not one," she asked.
He wirerly smiled and answered, "Oh, it was a chance meeting with MacLoud and Adam." He was protecting Methos, and he knew it.
Illiana looked to the office where Methos and MacLoud were still talking. Spike was wandering around the shop idely. She said, "Heather talked about MacLoud. She said he was a huge boy scout and was a good as he was handsome."
"I wouldn't of noticed," Angel concluded with a grin.
She giggled and replied, "I would hope not." Then she looked over at Spike and asked, "Who is he?"
Angel looked over in Spike's direction and answered, "That's Spike. He's a vampire, but I promise, he's completely harmless."
She turned white and asked, "Like the girl and the woman in the ally?" Her voice had a nervous tremor in it.
Angel shook his head and answered, "No, he's not. He's harmless. He can't hurt people, I promise you, Illiana."
"So, then you're just some mortal then who hunts vampires?" Illiana asked as she took another sip of tea.
Angel nervously swallowed as she watched him with exspressed interest. There was something wrong he couldn't put his finger on, and he couldn't figure anything out about it. He answered, "Okay then. Something like that."
She looked at him with raised eyebrows as she wrapped her fingers around the warm mug. She looked around and asked, "Is the thing true that a vampire can't come into one's house unless they are invited?"
Angel nodded and answered, "Yeah, that's true. But they can cross running water, and they can and do move during the day, just as long as they they avoid direct sunlight."
"Ohhhhh, uumm, will I be safe if I do go home?" she asked.
Angel looked around nervously. He knew that she would be safe from Dru, but what about other Immortals? The solution was simple, he was going to play bodygaurd till this was all figured out.
He answered, "I'll take you home."
"Really?" her whole demenor brightened.
"Sure," he said as he stood up and pulled on his duster. He held out his hand to her and helped her up. Spike was watching them as they left the shop.
MacLoud watched doubtfuly as Angel left with Illiana. The vampire named Spike looked at him and said, "The gel reminds Angel of someone."
"I saw that. Who?" MacLoud replied.
Spike grined and replied, "A lost love. A Slayer."
"What's a Slayer?" MacLoud was unformealer with the term.
Spike answered with a grin as he took out another ciggerete, "You'd like her. She's a white hat, like you and Angelus out there. They're also fun to kill."
MacLoud glared at him. Angel had said that Spike was harmless, but he was definately evil. MacLoud didn't like him one bit, but he couldn't kill someone who couldn't defend themself.
Spike went on, "They kill vamps, mate, and other demons."
MacLoud watched as the vampire pulled a ciggerete and lighter from his jacket. MacLoud said, "I don't allow smoking in here."
The vampire shrugged and lit it anyway. He puffed out the smoke and went on with the story, "One girl chosen to fight the forces of darkness, a lot of mystical rhyming crap, and when she dies an other one is chosen. They've got the streanth to kick vampire and demon ass. I've killed two of them in my time mate."
MacLoud narrowed his eyes at the vampire in anger. How could someone talk about killing so easly? Spike grinned and went on, "The big Poof's got it bad for one. Loves her with all of his undead being, or some poetic crap like that. That's why he came to L.A., he's afraid that he's gonna bloody `urt her. The funny thing is that she's picked up a new lover double quick, and he's still moping over her."
MacLoud looked at the smiling vampire. MacLoud sensed Methos enter the room. Methos looked at Spike and asked, "What about Drusilla preferring Angel to you?"
Score one for Methos. Spike bristled and answered, "He's just got her brains all twisted up, that's all." Methos smiled and leaned up against the door.
"Or maybe she has better taste," Methos simply replied.
Spike grumbled something under his breath and sat down away from the two Immortals. MacLoud crossed over to Methos and asked, "Are you sure we should keep him here?"
Methos grinned and replied, "I don't think that Angel wants to even keep him here."
Angel felt Illiana tightly grip his hand as she fumbled for her key. She lived in an upscale apartment building that was so common in Los Angeles. Angel heard something from within the room. He froze and expanded his senses to their fullest. She froze when he did.
She looked up at him with her huge violet eyes. Suddenly, Angel sensed something wrong with *her*. The look in her eyes wasn't right. She wasn't afraid, in fact, she seemed very calculating. Angel stepped back.
Then the door shattered behind him. He spun around to see Dru, the little brat, and two other vampires, junkies in life, come at him. Illiana stepped back and laughed. Angel spun out of the way and looked at Illiana.
He said, "You bitch."
Drusilla stood beside the tiny blonde and smiled. In that insane way of hers, she said, "My Angel, I'm surprised that you didn't see it sooner."
Angel grabbed one of the junkies and flipped him into the demonic pair. He took off running down the hall, making sure that they were chasing him. The junkies were, but the three females where going in the opposite direction.
Angel slid into a shadowy in bank and waited for the vampires to run past him. There was a wooden broom propped up in the corner, so Angel grabbed it and snapped it in half, fashioning two steaks.
They ran past him, Angel emerged from the shadows and plunged the shards of wood into their hearts. He said, "Sorry boys, this is where you get off," as they exploded into ash. Angel slipped one of the makeshift steaks into his sleeve and chased after Dru and Illiana.
When he rounded down the hall, they were gone. Went so far that Angel couldn't even sense them. "Damnit," he cursed as he looked for the trio in vain. Grumbling curses under his "breath", he started for MacLoud's shop as fast as he could.
Angel had it figured out. Illiana was the Immortal on the killing spree, she was the one who had killed Braden's wife. The little bitch. Drusilla had found the girl somehow, and they had become allys with the same common goal: To Kill Braden. Dru wanted to kill Braden only for the fact that her fledging wanted her father killed. Well, since Dru only knew about Immortals from what the little demon brat had told her, and she probably killed Illiana, and Illiana woke up, and POOF! Instant partnership.
"Damn it," Angel cursed as he rounded the corner at inhuman speed. He saw MacLoud's shop up ahead. Why didn't he see it sooner? He should have known that Illiana was on the Dark Side, but he didn't figure it out until it was almost too late. Maybe it was a pair of violet eyes, or maybe she looked like Buffy, or maybe he was caught off guard with Doyle's death. Who knew?
Angel's expression became harder as he reached the last few steps to MacLoud's shop. Thank God, made it, he thought as he stormed in through the doors. He bellowed, "Braden? Where is he?"
Methos looked startled, which Angel figured was something unusual for Methos, and dully answered, "With Joe, why?"
Angel ignored him. A cripple with Dru, a demon brat, and a physco Immortal running a round was not a good combination. MacLoud looked at him worrily, he had an idea on what Angel was coming to. MacLoud looked over at his friend and said, "Call Joe, now."
Methos whipped out a cell phone from his jeans pockets and dialed a number. MacLoud asked, "What happened?"
Angel quickly told him about Illiana being evil, the attack at her apartment, and their plan. Spike chuckled from where he sat. Angel wanted to slap that smug look off his face.
MacLoud looked over at Methos, who was talking on the phone. He said, "We're gonna go find Joe. Now."
"Damn it," Joe grumbled as he stepped out of the bookstore. Braden was waiting there, as patent and as quiet as he had been all night.
"Nothing?" the Immortal asked.
"Illiana Shorsky," was Joe's answer. Illiana was a manipulative little bitch. Her short history was a bloody one. She went on killing binges, like now, or she liked to mess with male Immortals with emotional ties to female mortals, like Braden. Braden's eyes narrowed. They must have tangled with one and another in the past.
Joe went on with the short synopsis that Methos had given him, "She joined forces with the vampire that killed your daughter, and they're both hunting you."
Braden gritted his teeth. Not the first time, Joe was glad he wasn't an Immortal, and that he didn't have to deal with all that crap. Braden said, "Come on then, I'm gonna go look for . . ."
He stopped in mid-sentence when a small girl with curly blond ringlets wearing a frilly peach dress stopped in front of them. She smiled, waved at Braden, then ran back to the shadows that she came. Braden cried, "Sam!" Then the Immortal ran after her.
Joe cursed, "Son of a bitch." Then he limped after the Immortal. Well, until MacLoud's T-Bird pulled up in front of him. Joe was glad to see his two friends there.
Methos asked, "Need a lift."
Joe scrambled into the front seat beside MacLoud. Methos and the two vampires were scrunched in the back seat together. Angel was a rather large vampire, and he looked a bit uncomfortable while the other two seemed comfortable in their surroundings. Angel pointed, and MacLoud floored the gas.
Braden followed Sam to the warehouse district of Los Angeles. She stoped and looked at him. Braden caught his breath as he reached for her. "Daddy," she cried as she leapt into his arms. Braden held her tight. Then something was wrong; she felt so cold.
"Sam?" he asked. She giggled, then it turned into a growl. Her grip became like steel as she sank needle-like fangs into his neck. His blood was quickly drained as he crumpled to the ground, in the child-fiend that was once his daughter's embrace.
"We're too late," Methos said grimly from the back seat. MacLoud watched as the Quickening pulsed through the night, shattering windows and breaking street lights. Angel was silent from where he sat. MacLoud was stunned.
He pulled the T-Bird into the ally between the two warehouses. They were quiet as they stepped out of the car. Drusilla, Samantha and Illiana stood there beside Braden's headless corpse. He heard Spike gasp as Drusilla looked in his direction.
Spike rushed up, only to be grabbed by Angel. Spike shouted, "Run Dru! Run!"
Dru did just that. She gathered up Sam in her slender arms and took off. Well, Angel, apparently had other plans.
His aim was deadly. MacLoud could throw a spear, but not with the accuracy of which the vampire produced a splinter of wood from his duster, tossed it, and hit the child-fiend's chest. Drusilla growled and looked sharply at him.
MacLoud drew out his sword and Angel placed his hand on his arm. Illiana was running away. Angel told him, "This is something I have to do." MacLoud understood as the vampire chased after the two women.
Spike moved to stop him, but Methos punched him hard. Spike growled as he crumbled to the ground. Then he stood up and started to walk in the other direction. MacLoud let him go. There was nothing that the vampire could do, so it would be a waist of energy to do so.
Angel couldn't kill Drusilla. He knew that. No matter how much he hated Spike, he couldn't do that to him. No one had to go through that sort of suffering, no matter how evil. So, he was going after Illiana.
That damned sword had been poking him in the leg all night. Well, he was going to use it. Illiana gasped as he caught up with her. She panted, "You're not human, are you?"
Angel smirked. He was in one of those moods. He drew his sword and said, "Well, I'm not your kind of Immortal either, but I am an immortal, just different."
Realization dawned in Illiana's violet eyes. She snarled, "You're a vampire." Then she said, "I thought all vampires were evil."
Angel just smiled as she drew her sword. She came at him, but he was faster and stronger. Her head bounced to the ground and Angel went to seek for cover.
The next afternoon Angel went to his office. Cordelia already had a cup of her so famous coffee ready for him. Angel took it, needing the caffeine so dearly, and gulped its contents in one swallow. He didn't tell MacLoud what happened last night, and Spike had gone back to Sunnydale. He had grumbled something about being grateful about Angel not killing Dru, but Angel didn't really hear him.
Cordy asked, understanding in her voice, "Tough night?"
"You could say that," Angel answered as he propped his feet on his desk. Then MacLoud walked into the office.
For once, Cordelia was smart, and she left the office. MacLoud asked, "Did you kill Illiana?"
Angel nodded. He felt responsible for everything that had happened last night. Angel said, "I'm sorry about your friend. I know what that's like." He was referring to Doyle then, but MacLoud didn't know that.
MacLoud asked, "So, I guess it's over then?"
"Until an Immortal makes an appearance in my life or some vampires start bothering you, yeah, it is," Angel answered. He still wondered what the Giant Boy Scout thought of him.
MacLoud smiled and said, "I'll take that as a yes."
"Good call," Angel replied.
MacLoud leaned up against the doorframe and said, "You know we're gonna meet each other again."
Angel nodded and replied, "Yeah, that's a given." They both fought evil. They just had different ways of doing it.
MacLoud said, "Well, good bye Angelus."
Angel looked up and glared. MacLoud smiled as he left the office, like that amused him in some way. Angel watched the Immortal leave. He leaned back in his chair and wondered when the next time he was going to see the Immortal was.
The End
I'm gonna do a lot of these crossovers, incase you haven't noticed.
