Part Three

Cordelia was breathless from dancing. She tried to get Doyle to leave the floor and come and get a drink with her - but he barely even looked at her, so intent was he on his hand jiving big fish little fish cardboard box - so she just laughed and left him to it. Lindsey joined her at the bar and ordered them both a drink. 'Is this the greatest party or what?' she said, sipping on her cocktail. 'I haven't had this much fun since… I don't know when, before daddy got busted by the IRS and we lost everything, and I had to move here.'

'It's certainly been an interesting night,' he agreed, smiling his most charming smile. 'Hey, Cordelia - what do you know about that guy?' He nodded towards Spike, he was stood in a corner - a massive grin on his face, his eyes closed - moving his head in time to the beat.

Cordelia giggled. 'That's Spike,' she told the lawyer, 'you ever hear of him?'

'Tell me about him?'

'Where to start…' she took a deep breath. 'He used to be totally evil - he even killed two slayers, way back when - did I tell you I'm a vampire slayer now?'

'Huh - I didn't know that.' Lindsey smiled at her, 'so what were you saying about Spike?'

'Well - he was this big, bad ass vamp, back in the day. Tried to do Buffy in a whole bunch of times. Back when they were all scourge of Europey, him and Angelus were totally tight. But then Angel got his soul and relations … soured. But then Angel says Spike has a soul now, and he's in love with Buffy too. Oh - and I think he's a ghost.'

Lindsey nodded thoughtfully, and took a swig of his beer. 'So you do know his backstory - OK. That's quite the resumé he has. When was the last time you saw him - before tonight I mean?'

'Oh,' she wrinkled her brow as she tried to remember. 'Years ago now… that time with the gem of Amara. It was only a couple of months after me and Angel had first got to L.A. We barely even knew Doyle back then… weird to think.'

'And was that the only time Doyle met Spike?' Lindsey asked her, casually.

'Well 'met' might be pushing it - it's not like they were formally introduced or anything.'

'Right,' Lindsey laughed, 'here - let me get you another drink, doll.' Her ordered her another cocktail and she took it from him, slurping at it greedily. 'I'm having such a wonderful time,' she said - and then staggered a little on her heels, as she felt the alcohol take effect. Lindsey wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. 'Steady there.'

Cordelia was laughing so hard she was in danger of spilling her drink. She struggled to straighten herself up, whilst Lindsey held on to her. 'oh hey - look,' she said, nodding, 'Spike's coming over.' Her knees wobbled and she leaned against Lindsey for a bit more support.

'Cordelia!' Spike greeted her - a giant grin on his face. 'You look smashing! Haven't seen you in an age. Is this the greatest party or what?'

She giggled again, 'it's wonderful. Hey, Spike - I heard you weren't evil anymore. Doesn't that make your hair a little silly?'

But Spike wasn't really listening. 'This is just the greatest song,' he shouted over the music, grinning widely. 'I can't get over how fantastic this music is.'

'Everyone's having so much fun!'

Down on the dance floor, the surly lawyer from earlier was whooping it up and starting a conga line. He led a train of people round the dance floor; whilst in the middle of their path, Doyle did the twist.

Even Fred and Wesley were dancing now - awkwardly, and not very coordinated - and close to the edge of the dance floor, but still very much joining in with the whole Halloween spirit.

...

Across the lobby, Archduke Sebassis watched the ongoing party with narrowed eyes. There was more to this than what could be seen on the surface, of that he was sure. The vampire had not invited them all here so they could writhe to these repetitive human beats and consume salted snack products. This … din was a distraction, carefully crafted to lower their defences, make them all soft before Angel's sudden yet inevitable betrayal. The trap was laid … but when would it spring?

He spoke to one of his entourage, 'find Artode.' The demon nodded and walked away, and Sebassis frowned. His bodyguard had been missing too long, and this celebration of the vampire's grew too wild. Caution would only take him so far, it was growing near the time for action.

...

The demon crossed the dance floor, on his search for Artode, walking briskly even though he had to keep dodging wildly flailing dancers. He skirted round Doyle, who was now dancing like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever - strutting and pointing, and bumped into Fred. He walked off without looking back at her - but she stopped dancing and starting yelling after him. 'You want a piece of me?' he ignored her - and she nodded, satisfied, 'yeah - that's right, buddy, keep walking.' She pointed after him, 'you walk alone! You walk alone!'

Wesley wrapped his arm around her waist and hoiked her backwards, 'careful,' he said, trying to balance her back on her feet and struggling - because he was having enough trouble balancing himself. 'That things fully loaded.'

'So am I,' she giggled. She wrapped her arms around Wesley's neck and pulled herself close to him. 'I am totally…' her fuzzy mind couldn't think of the right word, 'drunk faced,' she finished up, giggling again.

'That's because you can't hold your…. What are you drinking?'

'Nothing.'

'You can't hold that,' they started to stumble their way through the crowd, clinging to each other for support.

'Oh yeah? Lightweight?' she slurred, 'how much have you had?'

He held the beer bottle up in his hand. 'Including this …' he took a moment to get his tongue around the right words. 'I've had…' he peered at the beer, blearily. 'About a third of a half of this beer.'

Fred scrunched her nose up - and felt the gears in her brain move very very slowly. 'That's weird right?'

'Yes, I think so,' Wesley nodded, he was still trying to sound serious - he was pretty sure he was getting away with it, no one could tell how … drunkfaced, that was the word, how drunkfaced he was really. 'I think that's weird.'

'There's Gunn,' Fred pointed - and dragged Wesley across the dance floor, 'let's ask him if it's weird.'

Gunn was standing across the lobby from them, near a potted plant, his back was to them as they stumbled over to him. 'Hey. Hey. Gunn, is something weird going on?' Wesley asked him. Gunn turned round - and the three of them stared down as a golden trickle splashed across the floor. Wesley peered at his shoes and then squinted up at his friend. 'Charles you just peed on my shoes,' he slurred.

'Well I'll be damned.' Gunn hastily zipped up his fly. 'That's weird.'

Spike and Cordelia came to join the little group - they were giggling away and having an argument about who was having a better time. 'Hey, is this a great party or what?' he greeted the team.

'I never knew Wolfram and Hart threw such amazing hootenanny's,' Cordelia grinned, 'no wonder you guys came here - it's a blast. I can't wait for the Christmas party. Oh - maybe you guys should do a Wolfram and Hart Thanksgiving dinner? And invite all these wonderful people?'

Fred frowned. 'OK - something is wrong with this picture,' she said, concentrating very hard to make sure she got her words in the right order.

'This might be the greatest song ever written!' Spike announced, he closed his eyes and grinned, bobbing along in time to the beat.

Through the fog of his mind, something - slowly, slowly - was becoming clear to Wesley. 'We appear to be under some kind of spell,' he told the others.

There was a sudden loud groan, followed by a hiss of commiseration from the people on the dance floor. Doyle had just jumped in the air and tried to land in the splits … it hadn't worked out very well. But he got back to his feet - and was shaking it off. He squatted low on the floor and kicked out his legs, before bounding upwards, like a Cossak dancing. The people around him began to clap again. Cordelia crinkled her brow… maybe Doyle was under a spell too - it really wasn't like him to be all King of the Swingers like this. But she didn't understand - how could chicken little be cursed? She wasn't under any spell - she felt fine. Better than fine. Brilliant even. She'd never had such a good night surrounded by so many lovely people … maybe it was because she was the slayer, she must have some kind of natural immunity to whatever the hell was affecting everybody else…

Gunn tore his eyes away from Doyle, wincing in sympathy for the splits gone wrong, and spoke to Spike, trying to make some sense of the situation. 'How long have you been - you know … this.'

'Great isn't it?' Spike grinned, still waggling his head in time to the music. 'I don't know - happened a bit after I talked with Angel and Lorne.' He thought harder, 'yeah - Lorne told me to think positively.'

Somewhere - in the great rolling fog of Wesley's drunk brain, something suddenly made sense. He snapped his fingers and pointed, 'Lorne!' he pronounced to the group.

The demon himself danced up to the team, cheering and smiling. 'That dance floor is something,' he said, wiping the sweat from his brow… then he noticed the way they were all staring at him, 'what?'

The team bundled Lorne away from the dance floor - still ruled over supreme by Doyle - and pushed him into Angel's office. He protested the whole way - whatever they thought was going on, he hadn't done anything. He swore it. But the other's - even trapped in their various Lorne induced fogs - weren't listening. They knew something was up.

'Angel you in here?' Fred shouted out - her voice over loud now she was in the quiet of the office, but too drunk to alter her volume. She tripped over her own feet. 'Ange-...'

Angel's head popped up from behind the couch - looking startled. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow.

'What are you doing down there?' Cordelia asked, she wrinkled her nose, 'are you naked?'

'Hey - Angel's getting some!' Spike roared delightedly, as Lilah's head popped up over the side of the couch as well. 'Good on you mate!'

'Don't you guys knock?' Lilah asked them, she sounded annoyed. Wesley squinted at her, having trouble focusing his bleary eyes. 'Lilah?' he said - and even in his drunkenness, there was a definite note of hurt in his voice. She wrapped her arms across her body, covering herself and didn't say anything. Though she looked down - and her expression was more than a little guilty.

Angel glanced between the two of them. 'We were just … we were…'

'They must be under the effect of Lorne as well,' Wesley told the others, though he still sounded injured. 'Presum … presumally…' he gave up, words were hard. Fred snorted with laughter. 'Prezoomally.'

'Lorne's doing something to us all,' Wesley told Angel, his words still slurring. Lorne immediately protested - he was not - wouldn't he know? But Wesley shook his head. Everything Lorne had told them to do, they were doing. Spike was acting positive, Gunn was peeing all over the office…

'The only one of us unaffected is me,' Cordelia told her naked friend, 'I'm just having a great time with all your lovely clients. Wolfram and Hart is just the best.'

Lilah raised a sardonic eyebrow. 'Yeah, you're completely unaffected, twinkie,' she said. Cordelia completely missed the sarcasm. 'I know right? I'm thinking it must be because I have some kind of natural immunity on account of being…'

'Me and Wesely are a little bit drunk,' Fred interrupted in a loud and inebriated stage whisper. Wes nodded in agreement. 'Yes - but not because we drank, because Lorne told us to be drunk.'

'He told us to put our heads together and move on,' Lilah pointed out to Angel - she pulled him back on top of her, 'like this…' They began to kiss again.

'Guys!' Cordelia shouted, and they snapped apart. Wesley was once more looking a little hurt. 'Some kind of spell,' he muttered, 'magic of some sort… that's what it is.'

Angel, apart from Lilah once more, stared at Gunn in confusion. 'Lorne told you to pee all over the office?'

'Lord I hope so.'

But Lorne was still shaking his head. There had been no spell - there was no magic. He wasn't doing this. He would know if he was doing it. He didn't even know what this was.

'You know, I really love your desk,' Spike said to Angel, ignoring the conversation in favour of admiring the furniture.

'You know, this doesn't make a whole lot of sense,' Lilah pointed out. 'Lorne's an empath demon. He reads people. He doesn't make them…'

'Territory!' Gunn suddenly yelled out, everyone turned to stare at him. But that was it, he had just realised. Lorne had told him, just that morning, to stake out his territory … though it was a command being taken a little too literally.

Angel and Lilah took the opportunity to grab at each other and start kissing again. 'Guys, keep it in your pants,' Fred yelled, giggling. Lorne stared around at them. Sure, they weren't wrong - everyone was acting like an oddball, one way or the other, but he didn't see how they were laying the blame all on him. 'Hey - I did not tell Gunn to water the ferns!' he protested. 'I didn't do anything.'

'You had your sleep removed,' Gunn groaned in realisation. 'He hasn't slept in a month,' he told the rest of the team. Lorne looked irritated, 'what has that got to do with it?' he asked.

'Something… apparently,' Fred giggled.

'Lorne,' Angel tried to stand up, but Lilah was pulling him back down on the couch, 'why would you let them do that to you?'

'Well I had to do something!' the empath demon blurted out. He stared around at his friends - and saw their blank, staring faces. They had no idea what it was like. What he had to deal with. He was the centre of gravity in a town full of borderline disorder celebrities and powerbrokers. All that hand holding and ego stroking, 4 am jacuzzi sessions - models pulling out of gigs that you worked your horns off to book for them - he nodded at Cordelia …

Wesley caught Gunn peeing in the corner.

'I just couldn't keep up with it,' Lorne admitted, 'even without sleeping.'

Angel looked concerned - and more than a little put out - Lorne should have come to him, told him he wasn't coping. They could have helped. 'Which is what I'm gonna do now,' he said, standing up. He glanced down and realised he was still completely naked - and hastily grabbed a couch cushion to protect his modesty. Cordelia chuckled to herself. 'It's a good job it was you Lorne told to boff Lilah, and not Doyle. Chicken little hates public nudity. He'd never get over this … he has these recurring dreams about being in the ice cream section at the grocery store…'

'Cara Mia,' Lorne interrupted her. He was rubbing his temples. 'I told you to let your walls down, remember? You need to stop talking, sugar. You'll have been giving away personal info all night - and now you're giving away Doyle's personal info. So zip it - for both your sakes.'

She laughed, 'but I've not been affected,' she told him, 'because I'm the - ' her eyes went wide and round, as her brain caught up with her mouth and then got just ahead of it. 'Oh right. Zipping it.' She mimed pulling a zip across her lips and then throwing it over her shoulder.

As they talked, Angel had worked out a plan. He was sending Fred and Wes down to Wolfram and Hart storage to see if they could find Lorne's sleep and figure out a way to restore it. Wes saluted clumsily and stumbled his way from the room, dragging Fred behind him. Meanwhile, Lorne was to stay inside Angel's office and try not speak to anyone - or at all.

But Lorne could see there was a snag in that plan. The party was still going on out there - it still mattered. Someone had to play host, make sure there was ice in the drinks.

'Oh me me!' Spike stuck his hand in the air, volunteering himself. 'I'm your people person.'

But Angel chose Gunn and Cordy instead. 'Go on the floor - see if anyone else is under the Lorne effect,' he told them.

'I can think of one person, alright,' Cordy muttered - as through the window she watched Doyle dance a very wild and uncoordinated highland fling. She headed out of the door.

'and Gunn -' Angel called after him, 'stop with the…'

He nodded and looked uncomfortable, 'do my best.'

'And Lilah,' he looked down at the last person, 'you stay here with me and we'll have more sex.'

'I'm on it.' She dragged him back down on the couch. Spike perched on the edge of the desk and grinned around the office. 'Brilliant plan,' he gave Angel a thumbs up, 'excellent.'

Archduke Sebassis and his entourage stood inside the bathroom, his minions examining the destruction. The door was smashed in, the mirror cracked and blue slime was smeared all around the stall; all that remained of Artode. Murder. The Archduke looked grim - so this was what the vampire had planned?

Wesley and Fred found their way to the Wolfram and Hart Psyche Component Storage Facility. This should be where Lorne's sleep was being kept. The room was filled wall to wall with massive refrigerators with glass doors. They separated and started at opposite ends of the room - searching. 'Lorne's sleep,' Fred muttered in the most serious and determined voice she could muster, 'looking for Lorne's sleep.'

She took hold of the fridge's door handle and held tight on to it to try and steady herself. But when she didn't find what she was looking for immediately, she allowed herself to swing from it. 'You know I think we have pretty interesting lives,' she said to Wesley.

'Oh I should say that's true,' he rushed to agree, 'given the average.'

'And I'm having so much fun right now,' she said, still dangling her weight from the door handle, and grinning. 'We should do stuff like this more often.' She abandoned her search and walked up to Wesley. 'You know - just hang out like we used to. Friend stuff.'

'Absolutely. Frankly I always … I always thought we'd be better friends than we are.'

'Oh we should be! Let's be better friends than we are right now,' she wrapped her arms tight around his neck and giggled. 'You know, share stuff; talk to each other, tell each other what we're thinking ...we could be confidantes. Confiding confidentially.'

'I've been wanting to do that for some time now,' he whispered into her ear.

She pulled away from a little, still laughing, so she could whisper into his ear. 'What do you think about Knox?'

Cordelia crossed the dance floor and grabbed hold of Doyle. He tried to shake her off to continue his Irish jig - his arms were clamped by his sides but his legs were flailing around like they had a life of their own. 'Doyle - jeez - you need to stop this.' She exerted some of her slayer strength on him to hold him in place. His legs stopped moving and she nodded happily.

'You've been put under a spell,' she told him. 'It's Lorne - he's making people…' she felt him start to moonwalk from out of her grip. 'Quit it!' she yelled, grabbing him again. 'Lorne is magically controlling people. He told you to dance and now you think you're, like, James Brown or something. It's completely tragic - you have to stop.'

Doyle frowned, he was still trying to wiggle to the beat even under her super strength hold on him, though he couldn't really move. 'You know that does kinda makes sense … I've been wonderin' what I'm doin' for a while now.' His legs suddenly buckled underneath him, 'and now I've stopped I'm completely knackered,' he puffed. 'Help me off the dance floor?'

She wrapped her arm around him and started to drag him away from all the other dancing people. He stumbled along and she glanced down at his feet. 'You're skipping,' she told him.

'I'm tryin' to stop myself from dancin' … it's like my brain's sayin' 'no' but my feet aint listenin'.'

'Well maybe if we can just get you into a chair,' she said, scanning the lobby for a seating area. She found what she was looking for and dragged him over to a chair. Lindsey arrived at her side and she asked him to go and get Doyle a drink. 'I'd get it myself,' she explained, 'but I don't trust that, if I leave him alone, he won't be back out there - dancing the foxtrot.'

'It's OK, Cordy,' Doyle told her wearily, leaning back in his seat - his feet still tapping in time to the beat - 'I don't know the foxtrot.'

She sat beside him, one arm wrapped around him to hold him back from the dance floor, the other pinioned to his knee to try and keep his legs from moving. Lindsey arrived with a glass of water and a beer, 'wasn't sure which you'd want,' he said, holding them both up.

Doyle grabbed them both and alternated between the two. Across the room - a group of demons stormed across the dance floor, in high dudgeon, headed for Angel's office. 'I wonder what got their panties in a bunch?' Cordelia wondered.

The door to Angel's office burst open and Archduke Sebassis, followed by his entourage, marched into the room. They fanned out and levelled crossbows at everyone they found inside. 'What a fantastic entrance!' Spike grinned, from his place on the desk.

Angel, still having sex with Lilah - down on the floor, pulled himself upright. 'Sebassis?'

'The nerve,' The archduke said, his voice cold and furious, 'the raw nerve to lay a hand on one of mine.'

Angel started to pull his pants on hastily, 'what is this?' he glanced around at Spike and Lorne, sitting on the desk, and at Lilah, pulling her own clothes on, behind the couch. None of them seemed to have any idea what had sparked this outrage. 'Lower your weapons,' he demanded of the demon prince.

'These darts are poisoned vampire,' Sebassis told him, ignoring his demands. 'Powerful enough to put you in a coma for a week. Enough to kill any one of them before their next heart beat,' he used his crossbow to gesture towards Lorne and Lilah. 'You murdered Artode. I imagine we were to be next.'

'I didn't murder anybody,' Angel told him grimly, buttoning his pants.

'Dress yourself Angel, you have a public execution to attend.'

Angel pulled on his sweater. 'Big mistake,' he said to the Archduke

There came a piercing scream - from out in the lobby. They all turned to look. 'Move!' Sebassis commanded.

...

Angel, Lilah, Lorne and Spike were frogmarched at crossbow point out into the lobby by Sebassis and his minions. When they got out there, they found the dance floor cleared and a great crowd milling around the hors d'oeuvres table. The people parted, allowing a path through, and the group saw why the woman had screamed.

Devlin - the demon dressed as a 'Human Bean' lay splayed out across the table top, in the middle of the buffet. Dead.

'Oh boy,' Lorne gulped.

'Yeah,' Harmony came to stand next to them, 'someone really dipped his chip.'

Sebassis pointed his crossbow at Angel. Further proof that the vampire had murder in mind. Artode was not the only victim. He wondered how Angel would seek to talk his way out of this one.

'OK Sebassis, I don't know what's going on here - but we are not behind it.'

Outright denials was it? Sebassis would have expected better from a vampire of Angelus' calibre. Clearly the Angel alter ego was as weak and foolish as his soulless half was impressive. 'Enough lies, vampire,' he said.

Lorne tried to take hold of the situation - calm everybody down. He had been the Host at Caritas for years, he could deal with a hairy situation or two … though of course, he'd had the sanctuary spell to help him back then. 'OK, everybody, OK,' he said, 'yes the party's taking an unfortunate turn momentarily so let's not …' Sebassis cocked his weapon, '...fight,' Lorne gulped.

Wesley and Fred had returned to their searching. Fred was still peering through the shelves of the storage units, whilst Wesley sat at a table and read through a book, trying to research the theory behind what had happened. Though it was hard with his head all fuzzy…

'Sleep disorders,' he trailed his finger down the page, 'Edelmyer complex, eldritch causes, empaths…'

'Hey - it's not just sleep they do here,' Fred called out. She reached inside one of the refrigerators and pulled out a container, holding it up for Wesley to see. 'Madeline Chu in accounting had her ennui removed,' she giggled. She put the container back. 'Hey! Here it is, Lorne's sleep. Now I just have to find the delivery device…' she wandered off across the room, leaving the refrigerator door open.

'This isn't good,' Wesley told her, looking at his book. He began to read it out, 'the effects of long term sleeplessness on the subconscious mind of an empath can be catastrophic.'

Fred stopped what she was doing and looked troubled, 'catastrophic sounds not good,' she agreed.

The gears in Wesley's mind started to whirr - so much slower than usual - like he was stirring treacle - but he was getting there. 'Under normal conditions, Lorne has the ability to read people's destinies. But now I think he's writing them.'

'So, what? Instead of receiving, he's transmitting?'

'And that's just phase one,' Wesley told her, twisting in his seat to peer over his shoulder at her- and nearly losing his balance in the process. He read directly from the book again. 'If you sever the empath from his subconscious for too long, that subconscious can … it can manifest.'

Fred came over to peer at the book. 'What do you mean, 'manifest'?' she asked.

Sebassis pointed his crossbow, containing his poisoned dart, at Angel. The crowd murmured restlessly, Cordy, Doyle and Lindsey pushed their way through to the front to see what was happening. Lorne raised his hands in surrender. 'Wait, please wait,' he said to the Archduke. 'It's me, I mean - it's not me,' he started to gabble, as he tried to explain how this was both his fault and not his fault at the same time. 'But I haven't been myself lately. Somehow I'm making people do things and I'm controlling them.'

Sebassis swung the point of his weapon away from Angel and levelled it at Lorne instead. The empath demon looked alarmed and backed away, shutting up, immediately.

'Well then, Pylean, you're making me kill you. Is that consistent with your theory?'

Just then there was a loud and angry roar from over head. The crowd looked up and gasped, backing away. Cordelia pushed Doyle behind her.

Up on the landing, which overlooked the lobby, was a gigantic, hulking green creature. It was at least eight feet tall and massively muscular - and very angry. And it was wearing the exact same loud, blue suit and purple shirt as Lorne.

'Oh my god!' Harmony cried out in alarm.

Lorne stared up at the behemoth muscle man, completed dumbfounded. 'It's me!' he said.