50 feet below Sunnydale High, January 1996.
Heinrich Joseph Nest was a patient man. He had learned this in his seven centuries, to make long-term plans, to think before he acted. To make sure no matter what happened he would have another plan ready to set in motion.
When he had been trapped here on the Hellmouth, he had several contingency plans. While he had lost Angelus to something unknown, and Drusilla and Spike were off gallivanting in their youthful rebellion still, he had two children who were still loyal.
Until that numb-skull Luke had caused Darla's demise with his incompetence.
Luke was a formidable warrior. His skill at using the Aurelian bloodline's mind control power to make his opponents think they were weaker was superb, and had made certain he had only lost a single battle in his unlife, against a hunter who had caught him sleeping. But he was often arrogant and impetuous, and his appetite was sometimes too great.
He blamed himself for that one. When choosing a future Vessel for ritual purposes, Luke had been an excellent choice. The hunger would serve him well...but it had also caused Darla's death.
No, he was quite sure he would have to kill Luke sooner or later. After all, Darla had been his favorite.
But the Harvest was not too far off. A year, maybe less. Perhaps a little more, that depended on several other factors. He did not like that there were prophecies suggesting he would fail that first chance, but that was what contingency plans were for.
He paused in his internal monologue. "What was that?"
The minion in question jumped, probably not having expected his Master to actually be listening. "We, uh, we think we saw Angelus a few times. He's hanging around one of the residential areas."
"Really?" Well, now, this held promise... "And you're sure it's him?"
"Yeah. We checked with Willy, it's really him. Buys pig's blood from a local butcher."
"Interesting. Would someone be so kind as to fetch Luke for me?"
Several minions immediately rushed out, struggling only briefly to be the first one into the tunnels. So good to have obedient cannon fodder. And if Angelus was here...
It would be quite delightful to have his grandchild back.
.
.
Elmore Heights, basement apartment of 'Gabriel Himmel'. Early February.
"...and one-two-three, one-two-three, that's right, you got it!" Angel grinned.
Xander rolled his eyes. "And when am I ever gonna need to know the waltz? Or the foxtrot or tango?"
"You'd be surprised. The basics of dance are extremely good for balance and rhythm in all sorts of things." He guided him through the spin and twirl, then separated. "Very good."
He switched off the music as Xander went for a towel. Dancing was a sweaty business, for humans. To be honest, the real reason he taught Xander these dance moves was because anything more modern than that was...let's just say the last time he tried the jitterbug, the results had not been pretty. He was not a dancer in the modern sense, no. And he had to admit, performing the girl's part to make sure Xander learned properly was a bit embarrassing, but Angel was secure enough in his masculinity to not let it get to him...much.
"So, uh, have you found a date for the next dance yet?"
"No. Figure I'd go alone again." Xander frowned. "So, uh, I've been taking martial arts lessons."
Angel raised both eyebrows. "Really? Where?"
"There's this Aikido dojo down in Parkhurst, near Crest View cemetery."
"I know the place. He's good, focuses on the practical rather than the showy stuff. How do you like it?"
Xander shrugged. "It's okay. I dragged Jesse along the first time, he took two lessons then quit. I think I might continue, though. If nothing else I might get Larry off my back."
Angel didn't mention that from what he'd picked up on the Blaisdell kid, the guy was acting out because he was blatantly feeling arousal towards other boys. That would entail admitting he spied on the people who hurt Xander. And that he could smell things like that. "So why Aikido?"
Again a shrug. "Not the biggest guy around, me, and I like the idea of letting the other guy do the work for me."
"Right. I could show you some moves, too, if you like?"
"You know martial arts?" The question was honestly surprised.
"I've picked up a little over time. I could teach you some dirtier tricks that'll work on anyone, no matter how tough?"
The happy grin made his heart sting a little. No, the spell still worked, he'd checked with the Furies only last month, when Whistler brought him to check out the future Slayer. Cute girl, bit ditzy though. Anyway, even if anything happened, he'd go boom the moment Angelus dropped in.
"Cool!"
"Drop in tomorrow, and we'll split the lesson, half ballroom dancing, half martial arts." No need to mention the tricks would work on most demons as well. Going for eyes, nostrils, ears, balls, kneecaps, hamstrings and ankles. Getting out of clinches and choke holds. Stuff like that.
"Awww, more dancing?"
"It's what's good for you." He grinned at the reaction. Oh, in a few years he wouldn't be complaining.
Not that Xander had any reason to, now. The fact that the kid considered himself a dateless wonder probably had a lot to do with Tony's continued campaign of terror against his son.
Angel watched.
He lurked.
He knew at least half the girls in school were starting to throw eyes after the boy. He was growing up a strapping young lad, taking after his old man. His real old man. Sure, the looks were mostly from the Harris family, but the eyes were his. The eyes were the windows to the soul, was what they said.
And if he ever noticed that his best friend Willow had not only become a very pretty girl but also was head over heels infatuated, well...
"See you tomorrow." Xander waved as he headed off into the early morning light.
Angel stared at the space his son had been in only moments before, then ducked his head down to start cleaning up.
His son. Technically, Xander was the flesh and blood of Anthony and Jessica Harris, he knew this. But the soul inside of there...Whistler had never lied to him, yet. And yeah, he wasn't too happy about what they'd done. But if it was this or his son being lost forever due to him and Darla not knowing about it, he'd pick this any day.
.
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Sunnydale High. Mid-May.
Xander plopped himself down on the bench, peering curiously at the LA Times newspaper Jesse was reading. The headline read 'High School Fire!'
"Dude, morbid much?"
Jesse folded the front page down, grinning. "Aw, come on. Somebody did the unthinkable dream!"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, county examiners are saying mice chewed on electrical wiring, but some of the firemen said it looked more like arson. Man, I wish I lived in LA."
"You shouldn't wish things out loud." It came automatically, as always.
"Yeah, yeah. So, did you see Cordelia's new look? Wham! Right between my eyes!"
Xander gave him an amused look. "Dude, you're totally obsessed. Might as well start stalking her now and get it over with."
"Nah. I'm waiting until her ten thousandth refusal for that." Jesse grinned. "So, any girls on your horizon? Figured out who to chase for the autumn bonanza?"
"Yeah, I figured Amy Yip was currently not seeing anyone..."
"Aw, man, you know you could just ask any girl, why you do this to yourself?" Jesse rolled his eyes and rolled up the newspaper to thwack him with it. "Bad Harris! Bad!"
"Ow! And that is so not – dude, I've asked, don't you think I've asked? Girls hate me."
"You asked like three years ago. Get over it. Besides, I even caught Harmony checking you out the other day."
"Oh, ew. I wouldn't date her if she was the last girl on the planet." Xander scrunched his face up in disgust.
"That's your problem, man, same as mine. Your standards are too high." Jesse waggled his eyebrows.
"If you think stalking Cordelia is having high standards, I know this perfectly lovely compost heap I could introduce you to..."
"Hey guys!"
They both turned. "Willow!" "Girl of the hour!" "The Will-meister!" "Hugs!"
The barrage of hugging, noogies and tickling soon had the redfaced girl gasping for breath. "Ack! Stop it, I said stop it!"
"Methinks she doth protest too much! More tickles!" Jesse brought his hands up in evil tickle-claws.
"No! I'll pee my shorts!"
"Really? Let's find out!"
A few minutes later she was crying 'uncle', and the two boys backed off. Willow glared at them. "I hate you guys."
"She hates us?" Jesse adopted an exaggerated pout. "She don't wuv us any mow!"
"No, not the baby talk!" Her face was going terrified.
"Yeah, Jesse, not the baby talk. Ribbit." Xander grinned.
To Willow's growing horror, Jesse nodded. "You're right, that'd be cruel. Ribbit."
"Stop it! You know I hate frogs!"
Jesse nodded. "But they looove you, Wills. Ribbit. Ribbit."
"Ribbit!"
By the time the bell rang, Willow's face was a deep crimson, a nice match to her hair. Mission complete.
.
Math was boring. French the same. Spanish sucked, though Xander stumped the teacher by asking her if she could teach them to say 'Pardon me, officer, but I think I just saw some illegal immigrants approaching the fence over there.' Apparently such useful phrases weren't in the curriculum.
By the time they got to history, Xander was drooping off, thought partly that was due to the huge lunch he'd had.
"...now, Washington and his advisers weren't entirely sure if the British were really going to hold that area, so they..."
Jesse leaned over, poking him in the ribs, whispering frantically. "Dude! He's gonna notice!"
Xander's head jerked up and he blinked blearily. "Whuh? Oh. S'rry."
"Just don't fall asleep. I can pinch you if you want."
"Yeah. Great."
.
Twenty minutes later, they were in the hallway. Xander leaned against the doorway. "So tired."
"What do you do all night, man? 'Cause it sure isn't sleep." Jesse slapped his arm lightly with his notebook.
Willow reached up to feel his forehead. "No fever." Then she seemed to realize what she'd done and blushed furiously, yanking her hand away.
"No, I go to bed early and all, just been getting up real early in the mornings is all." He rubbed the bridge of his nose a little, then moved on to cheeks and temples to get the last tiredness out.
"Yeah? And do what?" Jesse leered. Everything was a dirty joke to him.
"I jog. And eat breakfast. There's this all-night bakery I know that has awesome Danishes, they give free samples to early birds like me."
"Aren't you the one who told us never to go out alone after dark?" Jesse exchanged a look with Willow.
"Mornings are okay. It's late evening to about two in the morning that's not safe. Check the statistics, man."
"The ones that say we have a huge amount of wild animal attacks and accidental deaths by barbecue fork? Statistics around here are whack."
"...'whack'?" He grinned at Jesse. "You applying for token black guy?"
"Hey, nowadays the token black guy lives through the movie, I figured I should hedge my bets."
"You're as white as they come, Jesse. Hey, Wills, wanna head to the study room? I need my daily Twinkie rations."
"O-o-okay."
The trio continued down the hall, bickering amicably all the way.
Yellow eyes peered out through the slightly open boiler room door.
.
.
Below Sunnydale High. Night-time.
"Master, we have found a weakness. Angelus frequently spends time with a young human boy, who goes to the local school."
Nest raised a grotesque eyebrow. "Really? For lunch?"
"No, Master. He...talks to him. Teaches him to...to dance, and, uh, to fight."
Several of the vampires nearby looked puzzled by this. Nest, on the other hand... "Ah. A protegé. How interesting. Keep an eye on them both, but be subtle. And if any of you makes even the slightest move, I will personally see to their punishment." He turned. "Luke, my boy. I want you to find the best fighters in our ranks and prepare a strike team."
Luke, a veritable mountain of a vampire, came out of the shadows, smirking. "It shall be done, Master."
"Of course it will." Nest waved them away, busy in thought.
A protegé. A weak spot. Yes...if they had this human at their mercy, would Angelus not come back to the fold? They might even turn the child, bring him over. Give Angelus a fresh uncle. Yes...this was becoming more attractive a notion by the minute.
The Master began to smile.
After a while, the minions in the room began edging away from the ghastly sight. Even vampires have limits to the horrors they can take.
.
.
Late November, 1996. The Bronze.
"Okay, you walk Wills home, okay?" He nodded at Jesse, who rolled his eyes.
"Dude, we're fifteen. She can handle herself."
Xander just gave him a Look. "Cordelia left ten minutes ago."
"Oh. Okay, then."
He watched them for a while, then shook his head in amused disbelief. That boy had it bad.
Turning around to head homewards on his own after a quick stop-over at Angel's, he never noticed the silent entourage he had acquired.
.
They grabbed him just minutes after he left Angel's mansion, just as he turned down the street towards the housing district. There was a confused blur of immovable strength, horrifying yellow eyes and ridged, grotesque faces, and then...
...nothing.
.
"...Master said to bring him straight to him, no tasting!"
"You kidding me? Can't you smell that? Like fine wine! He won't notice if we avoid the neck, have a little back bone will ya!"
"I do, I just don't want Luke to rip it out! We're in trouble enough as it is, grabbing him before getting the go-ahead!"
Xander raised his head. He was lying in a heap in the middle of the cemetery, hands and feet bound at the wrists with sturdy but old rope. His head felt sore. And the two things arguing right next to him weren't human.
Oh, a first glance could probably fool you, from a distance. Until you saw their faces. Bumpy, ugly, ridged foreheads, cheekbones so sharp you could cut a log with them, and big, sharp teeth. And sickly yellow eyes.
...real vampires get yellow eyes and their faces change when they get ready to bite...
Holy God. Angel hadn't been telling stories to an impressionable kid. It was real. It was all real. They were...
A roar like a lion punctuated the thought as a dark shape soared in from the side, grabbing onto one of the demons and slamming it into a headstone so hard the stone cracked. This was followed by a lightning quick backhand to the second one that sent it spinning in the air on the spot almost like a cartoon. A hand whipped out, holding a sharp wooden implement, the hand plunged down, and one of the vampires vanished in a faint wail and a cloud of black and gray dust.
By the time the second was on his feet, the sharp wooden pole had found that one as well, and it vanished in the same way.
Xander stared at the shape that was so familiar and yet so monstrously wrong.
...Angel?
There were monsters out there. Real monsters.
And Angel was one of them all along.