Plot incoming...


Legacy Chapter 4 – Harmless Deceptions

Once we reached a little town in New Hampshire called Peddleford, Spike's visions stopped. At least that's what he said. But every now and then as we went about finding someplace to stay, I caught him zoning out, staring off into space until he shook himself out of it. When the innkeeper showed us to own room in the little bed and breakfast Fred had insisted upon, I saw him snap out of another as we walked.

After the woman had left, I asked him, "You okay, cor?"

"Mmm?" he asked, looking up at me as he started to undress. "Aye. I'm okay, luv. Just need a little shut-eye."

"Well, you've got some time," I told Spike, watching him sit down on the bed to unlace his boots while I made sure all the windows were covered. "I didn't see a way to get into the car without frying, so we'll get to work tomorrow night."

"Wuss," he muttered, collapsing back onto the bed, crosswise. "Bothered by a little sunshine."

"Hey," I cried, smiling as I caught on to his joking tone. "Here I thought you'd want to keep me from ending up as a pile of ashes." And with a sigh, I collapsed down onto the bed beside Spike.

"Mmm, aye," he grinned, poking me in the ribs. "You're much better solid and whole."

Lacing my fingers with his as we stared up at the ceiling, which had an antique-looking fan and lamp, I asked Spike, "How d'you think Fred's doing?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. "But until coming on this trip, we've less and less of Illyria around. Haven't we?"

Thinking back on it, I replied, "Yeah. You're right." Turning to face my boyfriend, I added, "Wonder if that means she's starting to get over Wesley?"

"Oh, don't hold your breath for that to happen, pet," Spike scoffed and I chuckled at the expression, since I don't breathe. Rolling his eyes at me, Spike said, "Well, you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," I agreed. "They weren't even together for that long, but she must've loved him so much."

"World comes to an end, you lose someone like that," he mused.

Noticing the pain in his voice and wafting from his skin, I asked softly, "Buffy?"

Nodding, Spike turned over to hug me, and I wrapped my arms around him. I knew that pain, probably as well as he did. Sadly, I flashed back to that moment, when Willow had told me, words unneeded, that she was gone, and it hurt again so much, that I had to tighten my grip on Spike further, to remind myself that he wasn't going anywhere and that Buffy was alive again.

So for a few moments, I breathed Spike in, feeling his body relax beside me with every second that passed. Just being here in this town made him so much less anxious that I felt myself grow less anxious in turn. His emotions tended to cloud mine more often than not these days, to the point where I wasn't quite sure where he ended and I began. Until he did something stupid, that is.

"Pet?" Spike asked after a few moments, mumbling into my shoulder.

"Yeah, hon?"

"Order up some scotch and some Buffalo wings, would you?"

"Tell you what," I said, sitting up. "It's still somewhat early. I'll go out and get them, see if Fred and Xander want to come along to get the lay of the land."

"And leave me here all by my lonesome?" he asked in a mock-frightened tone.

I laughed and stood up, stretching quickly before turning to face him. "You can barely keep your eyes open, Spike," I chuckled. "You get some rest and I'll be back in a few hours.

"Yeah, okay," he said, crawling under the covers. I always find it funny how much less contrary he gets when he's sleepy, like he hasn't the energy for it. Spike's contentiousness had been such a big part of his personality for so long, since I'd known him, it was an entertaining surprise to find he had to work at it.

I hid my smile at the thought and bent over Spike, giving my boyfriend one last kiss. After making sure I had everything, I left the room and took my phone out of my pocket because I had several calls to make.

I hated the fucking thing. I hated it with a fiery passion that I usually reserved for demons bent on destroying the world. I hated the way it beeped and rumbled and had buttons entirely too small for my fingers. But I needed it – to keep in touch when things went to hell; to find people around the castle without using smell, since Buffy says it's too creepy; to talk to Buffy, even though she was so far away.

Making my way outside, into the darkness and fresh air, I wrestled with the stupid thing until it called Buffy. While it rang, I paced around and hoped she wasn't still sleeping. But when she answered with a cheery, "Hi, Angel! What's up?" relief and a smile washed over me.

"Spike says we're in the right place now."

"Finally!" she scoffed brightly. "So, where are you?"

"It's a small town called Peddleford, New Hampshire. He can't narrow it down more than that."

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully before taking a sharp breath, like something had just occurred to her. "Willow wants me to ask, have you ever had something like this happen before? With Cordelia?"

Wow. It had been entirely too long since I'd thought about her, and the realization made my mood even stormier than it had been. Was I forgetting about her? Had Spike truly replaced her in my life? For a second, I thought, maybe that was okay. In a completely, incomprehensibly wrong sort of way. But, to answer Buffy's question, I said, "No. Not that I know of. Usually the Powers send us enough clues to find the trouble right away. Not necessarily how to beat it..."

Buffy chuckled, "Alright. We'll work on it here. Look for any patterns in your area using the newspapers and online reports. You know how good Willow is at those things."

"Yeah, I know," I replied. "My team'll cover the work here on the ground."

"Good," Buffy agreed before asking, "How're you getting along with Xander?"

"Okay, I guess," I told her, carefully not mentioning how I'd almost killed him. She'd find out soon enough, and I didn't want to be the one to tell her. "He still seems a little uncomfortable around me and Spike. But he and Fred have been getting along well, I guess. Spike would be able to tell you more, if he was still awake."

"Good. I was hoping you guys wouldn't break his brain right away."

Chuckling, I replied, "No. The road trip wasn't much fun for anyone, but we got through it." Changing the topic swiftly, I told her, "We're staying at a bed and breakfast here," and I gave her the all the information, including the name – Snooze and Snack by Helen and Jack. I shuddered, just having to say it out loud.

"Is it super girly? Like tiny flowers on all the wallpaper?" she asked with a laugh.

"It's absolutely awful," I told her, smiling when she laughed. "But Fred insisted, since it's the only place in town, and Xander agreed. So here we are. The lady at the front desk was nice enough."

"She didn't have a problem putting you and Spike in the same room?" she asked me gently.

"Not that I could tell," I replied truthfully.

"Good. I'm glad," she said. "You two cause enough trouble around here."

"Hey!" I laughed. "We don't cause that much trouble."

"Do I have to remind you –"

"Okay, okay," I smirked. "I get it."

"Just try to be good, okay? No sex in public."

I chuckled again. "Right."

After a moment, she said softly, "I kinda miss you."

"Yeah?" I asked, wondering where she was going with this. "Why kind of?"

With a little snort, Buffy replied, "Okay. I miss you. Both. Even if you've only been gone three days."

"And who knows how much longer..."

After a sigh and a short span of silence, she took a quick breath and said, "How's Spike doing, sweetie?" Buffy had been using these terms of endearment more and more lately, and I couldn't decide whether or not I liked them. But it was just like I couldn't really decide one way or the other to be with her, though things had been moving more towards with as the summer progressed. The indecision gnawed at me a little, especially at times like these, when she expressed affection for me so easily, because I hated the chance that I might be jerking her around emotionally. Buffy deserved so much more.

Remembering that Buffy had asked a question, she'd asked after Spike, I sighed. "He's been better," I told her softly. "I don't think he's really slept more than a few hours since the visions started, but they seem to have stopped for now."

"Good," she answered. "That's good. You'll let him sleep before you take him out to look for clues, won't you?"

"Already on it," I assured her. "I know how to take care of him."

"Alright, Angel," she replied, and I could tell she was trying to be perky for my sake. "We'll work the problem from our end. And keep me updated, okay?"

"I'll do that," I promised, feeling the conversation draw to a close. "Talk to you soon."

"Bye, Angel," Buffy whispered, and then hung up and for a second or two, I wished she was there with us. Especially since I was sure she'd help me watch Spike's back. I wasn't so sure about Xander, the person I called next.

"Yeah?" he answered the phone and already I felt annoyed.

"I'm going for supplies and thought I'd scope out the town. You in?"

Xander's silence told me he was thinking twice about being anywhere near me since the incident that afternoon. Well, fine. Let him think twice. I'd only offered because he was Buffy's friend, and I had to be nice to him, if I wanted to be with her. Which I still wasn't sure about. I was just about to retract my offer, when Xander decided, "Sure. Where should I meet you? What room are you?"

"Seven, but Spike's sleeping. Just meet me out front."

"Be there in a minute," he agreed, hanging up on me without so much as a goodbye.

I called Fred down, too, and glared at Xander until he gave me the keys to the car. We all piled in, and I drove away from the inn, feeling Spike's presence retreating as we left. The warm feeling I got whenever he was near faded and the lack felt distinctly uncomfortable. Damned family blood. Wretched souled-vampire blood which tasted much better than it should have. Christ, now I was thinking about it, and my stomach rumbled audibly.

"Time for some dinner?" Fred asked me from the passenger seat, with a grin.

"Think there're any butcher shops open this late?" I asked hopefully.

"Doubt it," Xander scoffed from the back seat.

"But, when's the last time you ate, Angel?" Fred asked me, concern drawing together her brows. "I saw you giving your share to Spike. Don't think I didn't."

"Cleveland," I confessed, trying not to think about it too much.

Shaking her head, Fred muttered, "Oh, lord," and went back to watching the buildings drift by as I drove the short distance to the tiny downtown area.

"Why?" Xander asked, leaning forward in his seat. "How often do you normally eat?"

Shrugging as I made a turn and crawled along the main street looking for parking, I replied, "Once or twice a day."

"Yikes," he cried. "Just remember fangs off, okay, buddy?"

"I'm not going to eat you, Xander," I scowled, parking the car and killing the engine.

In her Illyria voice, Fred pointed and said, "There is a butcher shop, half-breed. We shall investigate."

"Geez," Xander whispered, as we followed Illyria. "D'you ever get used to the switching back and forth?"

"Not really," I replied, watching the guy's face as he studied Illyria. Of course, she still looked like Fred, but in the light her eyes would have been flecked with blue. Fred tried to give me an explanation for the phenomenon more than once, but I still found it as creepy as hell.

Peering in the window, Illyria told me, "There are no life forms in this building."

"I'm guessing plenty of dead ones, though," Xander joked.

"I'm sure," was Illyria's off-the-cuff reply. Was she developing a sense of humor? Or borrowing Fred's? I found that possibility even creepier than the eye thing.

"Don't break in, please, Illyria," I almost begged, pulling her away from the glass with a hand on her shoulder. "We don't need the attention."

"But how will you protect my pet without nourishment?"

With a sigh, I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, drawing another breath to explain, "For the last time, Spike is not your pet, Illyria. He's mine. And I can protect him just fine, especially if you let Fred come back here in the morning to buy blood."

"Your insistence on using currency, when you are perfectly capable of quietly taking what you need, is foolish and misguided."

"Yeah, thanks," I said, shaking my head and walking away from her. I'd found that, in the end, it was usually the best strategy. It kept me from hurting Fred on accident.

Xander caught up to me shortly, walking down the sidewalk beside me for a few steps before saying, "You know, I don't think I've seen more of Illyria on this trip that I have the whole time since you guys came to Scotland. Does that mean she's getting worse?"

"No," I growled. "She gets this way when Fred's tired."

"What way?"

"More blatant," I shrugged. "More combative. More fond of pissing me off."

"So how do you know it's Illyria," Xander said, looking over his shoulder where the demon followed behind us, studying a dead leaf very intently, "and not just Fred yanking your chain?"

"Because I know Fred," I told him, trying to let my voice convey the fact that I wasn't to be argued with. But this was Xander.

"You knew her before she went all bad-ass demon. That changes a person."

"And how would you know?" I provoked him harshly, wishing for just a fraction of a second that my unconscious attempt to kill him earlier had worked.

"Uh, hello?" he said. "Possessed by a hyena."

"That doesn't count!" I argued, and thankfully, Xander just scoffed and let it drop. After another glance behind us to make sure Illyria was still following, I took a look around the town. The main part was small, just a few square blocks, and when we came across a liquor store, I ducked in.

"What are we doing here?" Xander asked me, following me in.

"What do you think?" I snarled back at him, really just wanting to get this little mission over with and get back to Spike.

"I don't really see copious amounts of alcohol and getting this mission done mixing, per se..."

"It's for Spike," I told him, finding the scotch section and picking out Spike's second-favorite brand. They had his favorite, but if I bought that, he'd just tease me for knowing him so well and being a thoughtful poof. Who was fat and had bad hair. So, second favorite it was.

On the way back up to the register, Xander said, "So, Angel? When you say you know Fred ... does that mean you've, like, known Fred?"

"What?" I asked, coming to a dead stop, my eyebrows as high as they could go, and my mouth hanging open slightly.

"Like," he said, suddenly looking like he wished he hadn't asked, "did you two ever...?"

"No!" I cried, setting the bottle down near the register. And then, under Xander's disbelieving gaze, I thought about it again. "After Pylea," I sighed, handing the clerk my credit card, "she had a crush on me. But that's all it was. Oh," I added, "and she kissed me once, but we were undercover, so..."

"Good," he nodded, watching me thank the clerk and take my bag.

"Why would you even think otherwise?" I hissed at him, still incredulous. And why would he be asking anyways? Had Spike actually picked up on something between the two of them and was that why he teased Fred about it? Then, since Xander didn't seem to have anything left to say and I still had to fulfill Spike's second request, I asked the clerk, "Can you recommend someplace to get good Buffalo wings this time of night?"

"Sure," the girl replied, giving me that smile I'm used to deflecting, like she'd be happy to join me in finding them, if only I'd ask.

I'd started to hate that look. It had been an unwelcome reminder of how easily I used to feed before the soul. Of how many of those victims came willingly. Pissed off at Xander and now pissed off at this girl, an idea snapped into my head and came out before I even thought it through. "Thank god," I told her, with a put-upon sigh. "If I can't bring him some wings, my boyfriend is gonna be pissy with me for a week."

That seemed to startle the smile off her face pretty effectively, so I filed that trick for future use and took her directions to a pub around the corner. Just one more stop, one Illyria to collect, and another drive through town, and I could get some real sleep, in a real bed. Maybe if Spike's visions really had stopped, we could have a nice day together, too. I mean, we certainly couldn't leave the building until sundown came around again. Maybe we'd make good use of it.

In the morning, or I guess it was around noon, Xander and I drove in to town, to start asking around for anything that might have caused Spike's visions. "So," I asked him as Xander found a parking place on the main drag, "any ideas where to look first? Or how to ask around?"

"I've got the perfect idea," Xander replied, leading the way from the car and into the shop in front of us.

"A comic book store?" I asked him as he pushed open the door, a bell jingling to announce our presence.

"Sure," Xander shrugged, speaking to me in a low voice. "If anyone would be looking for weird stuff going on, it would be these guys."

"Greetings," a young man called to us as he emerged from a room in the back. He had a long pony-tail and a surprisingly well-kept goatee, though his clothes left something to be desired, since they were rumpled and his black T-shirt had more than one hole in it that I could see.

"Hey, man," Xander called back casually with a tiny wave before picking up a comic book near the door, flipping through it quickly.

Growing confused, I asked Xander quietly, "I thought we were here to get some answers, not to shop."

"Just gimme a minute, okay?" he replied, taking the book up to the counter, while I stayed back at the rack, picking some of the books up and studying the brightly colored covers. "Hey," Xander said to the clerk, holding up the comic, "have you gotten the next one in yet?"

"No, dude," the clerk said, shaking his head and shrugging. "Supposed to be here yesterday, but the trucks don't always deliver on time way out here."

"Yeah, I suppose not," Xander agreed, matching the guy's shrug.

"Hey, nice eye patch," he continued, nodding at Xander's face. "Real, or just to impress the ladies?" I heard him whisper to Xander, flicking his eyes toward me.

"Real," Xander whispered back. "Though it does give me a Nick Fury sort of air that my girlfriend likes."

Girlfriend? I thought nervously. Was I supposed to be acting like his girlfriend? Oh, wait. Renee. I'd heard her talking to Andrew about all this comic book stuff more than once when taking my turn at the monitors in the Control Room. Renee liked his eye patch? I suppose it did give him sort of a mysterious look. If he wasn't smiling and joking around like usual.

"Can I ask what happened?" the clerk said somewhat self-consciously, like he knew it was rude to ask but couldn't help himself.

"Well the real story is pretty boring," Xander insisted, "but I've got a few alternatives. Which one do you want to hear? Fishing accident? Bomb-squad drop out? Murderous crows? Insane preacher? I can keep 'em comin'…"

The clerk laughed at Xander's easy smile and said, "Okay, okay! Forget I asked, man!" Chuckling to himself again, the clerk straightened some of the displays on his counter and asked, "Anything else you're lookin' for?"

"Yeah, actually," Xander said, looking my direction, and I got the impression that he wanted me to join him at the counter. "My friend Fred, here, is kind of a conspiracy nut."

I am? I thought, oh wait, "Sure am!" I said proudly, with a smile.

"And we heard," Xander said, keeping his voice low and mysterious, "that something strange has been going on here."

The guy opened his mouth, eyes lighting up like he had something great to tell us, until he stopped. Now, he suddenly reminded me of the guy who owned the LA bookstore where I shot Jasmine and Angel. He'd been into all sorts of conspiracy theories. But here, this man eyed us suspiciously and asked, "Where are you from?"

Quickly, before Xander could answer, I replied, "Well, originally I'm from Texas, but I've lived just down the road in Marlow almost eight years now. Where are you from?" Now I felt somewhat glad that we'd been zig-zagging around the area for so long, since I'd just about memorized the geography.

"From here," he replied slowly, before asking, "You aren't reporters, are you?"

"No, silly," I said, giving him my brightest smile. "Just two friends looking for something interesting that might be going on. I'm a professional researcher, you know. And I just found out that my last subject of interest, the government addition of mind-altering drugs to potato chips, was just a bunch of hooey. Oh, god," I said, acting severely disappointed. "What's going on here isn't all a bunch of hooey, is it?"

"No, ma'am," he said, shaking his head furiously, trying to alleviate my disappointment. "Something's definitely going on." Xander and I shared a hopeful look before I gestured for the man to continue. "Alright, so I had this friend, Debbie." He waited for us to nod, and so we did, urging him to continue. "And she had just started going out with my friend Rich, when she found out she was pregnant. Now, Rich swears he never slept with her and Debbie swears she never slept with anyone, ever."

"Uh-huh," I replied, trying to hide the skeptical tone I felt creeping into my voice. However, I also had to push down Illyria's urge to ask why procreation seemed to be such an important subject to lower beings, so I'm sure some of the skepticism sneaked in there.

"Right, so Rich breaks up with her, because something's not right, and then, when Debbie has the kid? It killed her."

"She died in child birth?"

"Yep, and you might be asking, 'What's so special about that?' but it's happened again and again in the past two years. Girls getting pregnant without knowing how. Of course, not all of them die of it, but many more than should be, have been."

Xander gave me a look, like he wanted to gauge my reaction, before asking, "How do you know it's not just a trend? Blame the kid on something 'weird' happening, so no one has to take responsibility?"

"Debbie wasn't like that," the man insisted. "She was a true blue as they come."

"So what do you think it is?" I asked him, trying to sound excited about the possibilities. "Something in the water? Oh! You don't think it could be…?"

"Aliens," the clerk nodded, completely seriously. "I saw Debbie's mom with the kid a few months ago at Cherry's. Cherry's Diner? There was something just … off about him."

"Aliens," I whispered, giving Xander an excited look to tell him to play along. "Do you think we could talk to Debbie's mom?"

The man shrugged, "Don't see why not." He jotted a telephone number and an address down on a piece of paper, demanding just before he handed it to me, "Just don't tell Mrs. Gage I sent you. She doesn't take kindly to me since I told her little Billy was probably an alien."

"Great," I smiled, taking the information. "I'm Fred, by the way. It was nice to meet you."

"Garrett," he replied, waving as Xander and I left. "Pleasure was all mine."

"So," Xander began as we got back in the car and pulled away from the curb. "What are the chances this guy's story is something we should look into?"

"Well," I said, fingering the scrap of paper still in my hands, "as conspiracy theories go, it sucks."

"It sucks?"

"Well, yeah," I nodded. "He gave us a specific time-frame and it happened to a friend of his, not a friend of a friend, with a specific name and everything. He gave us a phone number, Xander," I pointed out.

"Right," Xander nodded, making a turn into another parking lot so we could stop the car and talk. "So you're thinking?"

"This could be it," I told him, but then hedging my bet, I continued, "or this could be a complete waste of time."

"Well, it's the best we've got so far, right?" Xander asked with a sigh, rubbing one of his eyebrows.

"Right," I nodded. "Wanna start with little Billy Gage?" I held up the piece of paper, waving it a little as if to tempt Xander, and he smiled back at me, getting into the spirit of the investigation.

"What's our cover going to be this time?"

Are you intrigued? I hope so! Don't forget to review...