Part Three
Sunlight streamed through the office windows, once again. Fred was holding a cake, decorated with a picture of a fiery Los Angeles and daubed with the words 'Way to Go Spike', she was surrounded by Lilah and Harmony and all of the guys - even Doyle was there - and they were all singing 'for he's a jolly good fellow!' Grinning wildly.
'which nobody can deny!' they finished the chorus and began to cheer and clap. Wesley blew one of those party favour noisemakers - where the curled up streamer rolled out. 'Speech', he cried out 'speech!' and everyone joined in.
Angel stood by the door and watched. No one had even noticed him standing there - they were all too busy fixating on the man of the moment.
Spike was standing in front of the adoring crowd, looking overwhelmed at this outpouring of love. 'Well this is - uh,' he began modestly, 'thank you everyone. I don't know what to say.' Everyone laughed - and he grinned along with them. 'I'm just a working class bloke fulfilling his destiny. It was nothing really.'
'Nothing?' Fred cried out in surprise. 'Spike - you single-handedly ended Armageddon and turned the world into a beautiful, happily-ever-after, candy mountain place where all our dreams come true.' She gestured towards the window, to where the sun was streaming through, and everyone else followed suit; sweeping their arms towards the window to present Spike with the grand view of all he'd achieved. There was now a pink palace - like Sleeping Beauty's castle - where once there had been skyscrapers and seven elevens and parking lots. The sky was a perfect blue and the castle sat amongst green, rolling hills.
Spike smiled bashfully when he saw what he had accomplished. 'Beautiful isn't it?'
'The living end!' Gunn told him.
'Like Tír na nÓg,' Doyle nodded.
'And now... it's time for your reward.'
'Yes. Your reward!' Wesley pointed at the champion vampire. Spike shook his head, looking surprised. 'But I didn't do this for a reward,' he said, earnestly.
'Well, that's why you're getting one,' Gunn smiled at him. There was a delighted intake of breath from the whole crowd as the blue fairy floated through the office, the people parting like the sea to let her through.
'After all - anyone who saves the universe from eternal bloodshed, horror and misery deserves to get what they've always wanted,' Wesley said. Fred was smiling so wide it was like her face was splitting in two. 'Deserves to become a real boy,' she said warmly.
'And so you shall!' The blue fairy waved her magic wand over Spike, scattering golden fairy dust all over him. Angel stood alone by the door and watched in disappointment as the glitter settled on Spike's skin.
Spike breathed in - and put a hand to his chest. 'My heart, it's …' he turned back to the crowd - his face lit up with joy and wonder. 'It's beating again. Listen!' Fred ran over and put her ear to his chest. 'You're alive, Spike!'
Angel put his hand to his own chest - and felt the empty nothing; the hollow lack of warmth and redemption. But everyone else was too busy crowding round Spike and congratulating him to notice Angel. 'Ooh - I wanna hear!' Gunn called out, and like Fred had before, pressed his ear to Spike's chest to listen to his heart beat.
'Let's hear it for Spike!' Wesley called out.
'Hip Hip Hooray!' The crowd gave Spike his three cheers and banged their hands together, wolf whistling and catcalling.
Angel looked down sadly, to where his hand still rested over his still and lifeless heart. His shirt had changed - it was short sleeved and cheap polyester, buttoned right the way to the top and too tight about his collar. His cheap, nylon tie was too short. He turned away from the celebrating crowd and the now human Spike, and saw his mail cart waiting for him. Consigned to his fate, he pushed the mail cart away down the hallway, ready to deliver letters to the people who still mattered.
Spike answered the knock at the door and raised an eyebrow when he saw Wesley and Gunn standing at the other side. 'Well - look who's come to call: Crockett and Tubbs.' He turned away from them and headed for the fridge. 'Come on in, boys, out of the cold and damp. Suppose I should have expected a visit from Big Brother's L.A branch.' He opened the fridge and grabbed himself a beer. 'Can I get you a frosty?'
The two men stepped inside, their demeanour was not friendly and they did not respond to his question. He shrugged and sat down at the table, swigging from the bottle.
'What are you up to, Spike?' Gunn asked him. He raised his eyebrow again. 'Man gets right to the meat of the existential nut, doesn't he?'
'Just a little concerned. You don't call. You don't write. What's your angle? Last time we saw you, you were booking a one-way to the continent.'
'Change of plans,' Spike shrugged, taking another drink. 'Change of heart, changed my mind, mates.'
'Sounds like you've been busy,' Wesley told him, 'we've had reports of a vigilante matching your description.'
Spike smirked - yeah, that was what they did wasn't it? Got reports. Signed cheques. Read memos. 'How'd you find me anyway?'
'Wasn't hard - put a couple of psychics on it this afternoon,' Gunn said. Then he got to the crux of the matter - it sounded like Spike was out there fighting the good fight. And they figured that was their territory.
'So what? You're annoyed 'cause I stepped on your toesies?'
But that wasn't it at all - quite the contrary, in fact. They were only wondering why Spike had left Wolfram and Hart in the first place. If he wanted to save the world, they had the resources to do it.
Spike let out a bark of laughter, 'no offence, Mr. Vader, but I've got no itch to join the evil empire.'
'It's different,' Gunn told him, 'you know it - we've changed things.'
Spike sighed. 'Look - I told it to Angel and I'll tell it to you. A place like that doesn't change, not from the inside, not from the out. You sign on there, it changes you.' He fixed Gunn with a hard stare, 'puts things in your head,' he said meaningfully. 'Spins your compass needle around until you can't cross the street without tripping the proverbial old lady and stepping on her glasses. And it's not like I wasn't there, gents. Wasn't watching you. I had to haunt the damn place, remember?' He took another deep swig of beer.
Gunn and Wesley glanced at each other, awkwardly. 'Things aren't that cut and dried, Spike,' Gunn tried to tell him. 'We're making a difference - we're just playing by a new set of rules.'
'So what? You want me to put on a suit … come play with you?'
'Something like that,' Wesley agreed.
That made Spike laugh again. 'I can't believe Angel would sign off on that…' he caught the almost imperceptible glance between Wes and Gunn - and realised the truth. 'Unless - he doesn't know you're here does he?' He smirked. 'Well isn't this a bad day for former allies turning on Angel? Starting to think maybe he's not the main player in town. Hedging our bets are we boys?'
'It's not like that,' Gunn said - as Wesley's cell phone began to ring. Wes stepped out of the conversation to answer the phone, but he could still hear Spike's reply: 'and the compass needle keeps spinning. And the world gets murkier and murkier.'
...
'Wes, man!' Doyle's frightened voice came over the line.
'Doyle, what is it?' Behind him, he was aware of Gunn suddenly paying attention to the phone call - even Spike seemed to be interested.
'I need you to come down to the office - the whole team. There's somethin' wrong with Cordy and I can't put it right. Please…'
'We'll be there right away,' Wesley assured him, 'hang on.' He hung up the phone and looked at Gunn. 'Cordelia's in some sort of trouble - we need to get down to their office. Ring Fred and Lorne for me.' The two men turned to leave the basement apartment, Gunn already getting his cell out to call Fred.
Spike watched them go, craning his neck to follow them, as they disappeared through the door. 'Oi - what's that all about?' he yelled after them - but they didn't answer or look back.
Lilah sat down at the table in the little cafe and crossed her long legs, she smiled across at her conspirator, her most wolfish grin. 'So how are things going your end?' she asked.
'The daft little limey bought every word,' Lindsey smiled. 'He hasn't sewn a big red S to his chest yet, but he's getting there.'
'And he actually believes you're the halfbreed?'
'Hasn't thought to question it. The real Doyle and he only met very briefly several years ago - and I worked very hard to play the part of Cordelia's doting boyfriend at the Halloween party. Danced with her, bought her a drink - stayed in Spike's eyeline the whole time. He never got close to the real Doyle. Won't remember him at all. What about your end - you sure they're not checking up on Angel?'
She laughed. 'Between warlocks, relics and the fact that they all just hared off out of the building a while ago - no one has given the dark avenger a second thought in hours.'
'Good - 'cause we need to do this right. I wanna wear down Angel - I wanna build up Spike and I wanna make sure that son of a bitch pays for what he did last year.'
'You know,' she took a sip of her coffee and looked at him over the rim of the cup. 'No matter how bad you hurt Angel, it will never bring Kate back, won't really make up for what you've lost.'
'No,' he agreed, 'Katie's not coming back. I know that. But I can still make sure the son of a bitch who killed her doesn't have his past washed clean, his sins forgiven and doesn't get to live a mortal life with his friends and his son - and maybe a woman he loves. Not when he took that from me and Katie. I knew - as soon as the sun came back - that they'd find a way to stop Angelus, and forgive Angel for everything he'd done. That they'd forget about Kate. I knew it. And I decided then that I'd find a way to put a stop to it.'
'Which is why you sent the amulet to The Senior Partners,' Lilah said, 'without giving them the full fact check on what it did.' Lindsey nodded. 'They wanted to stop this rogue apocalypse - I gave them the means to do it. They didn't even think to check the fine print. I figured Angel would wear it in the big fight - and be killed, his essence trapped forever in the bottom of the hellmouth. A fitting end for him - no afterlife, no reward. No one would ever really know what had become of him. But then he didn't wear it.'
'Foiled again.'
'But this way is even sweeter,' he argued. 'I didn't know about the existence of another vampire with a soul until after the fight went down. Now there's two of them in line for the Shanshu prophecy - and I get to make sure Angel never fulfils it, whilst he has to watch Spike get everything he's ever worked for.'
'And I suppose it's just the icing on the cake that Spike is in love with Buffy?'
Lindsey smiled and shrugged. 'The way I see it - whoever wins the Shanshu wins the girl. And whoever loses - loses everything. So - it's real important that we start tearing Angel down.' He took a wooden box out from under the table. Lilah reached out and placed her hand on top of it, smiling. 'This is the mother?' she asked.
'If the baby has got him scrambling - this will just about finish him. Do you know how you'll get it on him without him realising?'
'I have a plan.' She picked up the box, stood up and started to walk out of the cafe.
'Hey Lilah,' Lindsey called out after her. She stopped and looked back at him. 'I know why I'm doing this,' he said, 'but what's in it for you?'
Lilah smiled down at the box in her hand. 'Honestly? I just enjoy screwing with the guy…'
Wesley and Gunn pulled up outside the old Angel Investigations building at the same time as Fred and Lorne arrived, tumbling out of their own car. 'What's going on?' Fred asked, her voice high with worry. 'Charles said something about Cordy…'
'We don't know any more than you do,' Wes said, his own voice was terse. He led them into the office block. 'Doyle just rang, in a panic, begging for our help.' He opened the door to the outer office and, finding it empty, walked on through to Angel's old office. 'Hello?' he called out, 'Doyle, Cordy?' the others crowded in after him.
'We're down here!' they heard Doyle's strained voice call out from down in the apartment - and Wesley led the way down the stairs. It had been a long time since he had been here - it felt both alien and completely familiar at the same time. But he came to a startled stop when he reached the bottom of the stairs - there was nothing familiar in this scene.
'Jumping Jehosaphat,' he heard Lorne breathe, behind him, and he knew the rest of his friends were staring around in shock at the devastation that met their eyes. 'What happened here?' Fred asked, looking at the smashed plates and the wrecked furniture.
'Cordelia happened,' Doyle said, coming out of the bedroom. 'Thanks for comin', man,' he said to Wesley, 'I was goin' crazy, I didn't know what to do for the best.'
'What's up?' Gunn asked him, 'place looks like a tornado blew through.'
Doyle took a deep breath and - casting many worried glances back in the direction of the bedroom - proceeded to tell his friends about the mysterious laugh Cordelia kept hearing and how every time she did, she started to imagine demons coming out of the woodwork. 'It wasn't too bad at first,' he told them. 'She'd hear the laugh, see a demon, but I'd be able to calm her down. Only now … every time, she sees hundreds o' the things - and the laugh won't leave her alone, it followed her all through her dreams. She's exhausted and terrified and gettin' pretty dangerous…' He led them through to the bedroom.
Cordelia was still unconscious, though she wasn't still - she tossed fitfully and cried out in her sleep. 'Why did you tie her to the bed?' Fred asked, sounding shocked.
Doyle hung his head. 'She nearly killed a UPS delivery guy - you've seen what she's done to our place. I can't risk her gettin' free and hurtin' anyone. Or hurtin' herself.' Cordy cried out - a wild shriek of pain, and he immediately crossed to her side and stroked her hair, murmuring soothing noises to try and quieten her … but he also checked the knots binding her down, making doubly sure that she couldn't pull herself free.
'And - uh - maybe this is the question I don't wanna ask,' Lorne said, 'but how did she come to be unconscious?'
'I hit her,' Doyle admitted, biting his lip and keeping his eyes on Cordy so he didn't have to see his friends' faces. 'I didn't know what else to do - how to stop her.'
'What do you need us to do?' Wesley asked him - he alone didn't sound shocked or horrified, his voice was calm and clear - and sounded as if he were ready to work the problem, same as any other case. That was his watcher's training - it always allowed him to face anything the universe threw at him without flinching. Doyle shot him a grateful look. 'I've researched as far as I can on the net,' he told them, 'I've not found anythin' - and I'm startin' to wonder if maybe this isn't a demon, exactly, maybe it's some kind of - I dunno - spirit or Djinn or … just somethin' else - but I don't know where to start lookin'.'
'My books are upstairs?' Wesley asked. Doyle nodded. 'Very well, I'll go up and start researching at once, Fred…' he turned to go and the woman, with a last sad look at Cordy, followed on behind him.
Doyle looked at the two men left behind. 'Where's Angel?' he asked - as if only now just realising who wasn't there. Gunn shrugged. 'He's been feelin' under the weather - no one's heard from him all day.'
'Right,' the Irishman shook his head, as if not believing that it was today of all days that Angel would find himself indisposed. 'Well then, I'll need you ready to go when Wes identifies whatever this is. If Angel isn't in the mix then you'll have to be the muscle - I want this thing dead. Very dead.'
'No problem.'
'Stay with her?' Doyle asked, 'make sure she doesn't get free and if she does - uh - knock her out again.' He looked over at Lorne, 'and will you do whatever you can to keep her calm?'
'Sure thing, sweetcakes.' Lorne pulled a chair up next to the bed, took hold of Cordelia's hand and began to sing; 'when you're down and you're troubled … and you need some loving care…'
'What are you gonna do?' Gunn asked the half demon. Doyle rubbed his face and pushed his hands through his hair - leaving it sticking up on end. 'I'm goin' crazy with worry down here, I need to do somethin' - I guess I'll go help Wes.'
He stroked Cordy's hair, and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. 'I'll just be upstairs,' he said to her - though he didn't really believe she could hear him. He glanced at the others. 'Call me if there's any change.' They nodded and, with many a regretful backwards glance, he left the apartment and went back up to the office.
Gunn pulled up another chair and sat beside Lorne, listening to him sing. '...and that old north wind begins to blow … keep your head together…'
'She's not peaceful,' Gunn said - looking down at her face, which was crumpled and worn with suffering. 'You think she's dreaming?'
Cordelia stood in the middle of what looked like a barren wasteland - or a desert - and the wind was blowing around her, whipping her hair round her face and whistling in her ears. She was alone - and she didn't know where Doyle was, or how to get back to him.
She put her hands to her head, trying to block out the sound of the storm and then she heard a voice - a soothing voice - barely audible in the distance; singing. She listened harder. 'You just call out my name - and you know wherever I am - I'll come running …' and she knew if she could just get to the voice that everything would be OK. she'd be safe - and Doyle would be there.
She listened harder. 'Winter, spring summer or fall - all you have to do is call...' She forced herself to start moving, lifting one foot - though it seemed so heavy - and putting it down, before lifting the next one; willing herself to move forward; one weary step at a time. To get to safety. She stumbled onward - the voice was getting louder - 'They'll hurt you - and desert you - and take your soul if you let them…' She reached the edge of the barren wasteland and stepped out onto the streets of L.A - she knew this place, she was right by her building - and the voice was coming from inside. She forced her leaden weight legs to run … but that was when she heard it. The laugh. Snickering and cruel … and she remembered that she had gone to the desert to hide. She had been safe there, even if she had been lonely and lost.
The laugh sounded again - and she backed away from the building and began to run in the opposite direction, hoping to get away. But it followed her down an alleyway - and then a demon jumped out at her and she screamed and lashed out, pushing it away from herself and running on. But she was so tired. She couldn't keep running. And she couldn't fight all the demons - and she knew that laugh was going to get her in the end.
Harmony sat at the front desk and flipped her way through a copy of vogue. Beside her, the phone began to ring and she reached out and answered it without even taking her eyes off her magazine. 'Hello, Wolfram and Hart,' she said, sounding bored.
'Hi Harmony, it's Fred.'
'Hey Fred.'
'Hey … have you heard from Angel today? Have you seen him yet?'
Harmony shook her head. 'Haven't heard a peep.'
'OK,' Fred's voice sounded troubled. 'Well - we're all gonna be out of the office for a while, I think - could you maybe call him, check he's OK?'
'Act like I care? Good thinking!' Harmony said brightly. She put Fred on hold and dialled for the inside line to Angel's penthouse.
...
Up in Angel's apartment, the phone began to ring - but Angel didn't hear it. He sat up with a start and looked around. He could hear a piano playing … and sure enough, just to his left, he saw Lorne - dressed up like it was the Old West, complete with suspenders and a little moustache, tinkling the ivories. 'Lorne?'
'Around these parts folks call me Honky Tonk,' he gobbed a wad of Tobacco into the spittoon. Angel glanced down in disgust - and then looked back at his friend, confused.
...
Harmony rapped her nails on the desk, as she waited for Angel to pick up. He never did and instead she got his answering machine. She pressed the button to kill the call and then took Fred off hold. 'Zippo luck,' she said. 'Just got his machine - I can leave a message if you like.'
All the way down in Doyle and Cordy's office, Fred frowned. 'No,' she said, 'I guess we should just let him rest. But if you do hear from him let me know at once, OK?'
'Sure thing.' And she hung up her phone and went back to her magazine.
Lorne was now playing 'My Darling Clementine'. He looked across at Angel, sat on his bed and looking lost. 'Why so down in the dumpster, partner?' he asked. 'You look like you had to put down your last puppy.'
Harmony appeared - dressed like a waitress at the Copacabana. She put a whisky on top of the piano for Lorne and then stared expectantly at Angel. 'I think I'm lost,' Angel told them both.
'Order a drink!' Lorne told him.
'Everything hurts.'
'Now you're gettin' it. Everything hurts - and then we die. Or in your case then you go on…' he played a low note on the piano, 'and on…' he played a lower note, 'and on..' he played the lowest note, the first key - the A - and held it down for just a shade too long, so it jarred uncomfortably in Angel's ears. 'I don't know what to do,' he admitted.
'Why don't you give me an earful of them pretty pipes of yours. Let me suss it out.' He began to play 'My Darling Clementine' again and a spotlight shone down on Angel. The vampire blinked in the sudden brightness. 'Well, sing out, Louise,' Lorne said to him.
Angel opened his mouth to try and sing - but no sound came out. He gasped and squeaked - but wasn't able to form a single note.
'I told you he was empty.' Fred was sitting at a table in the corner, with a drink in front of her. She sounded bored. Wes and Gunn and Doyle were with her as well - and they were all watching Angel - and none of them looked too happy. Doyle threw a handful of peanuts at Angel, 'come on!' he called.
'Yes, this is ridiculous,' Wesley said he sounded annoyed. He leaned towards Angel, who stared back at him, blinking. 'We paid good money for this. We paid blood for this.' Doyle threw another handful of peanuts.
Lorne leaned across to Angel, still playing the piano. 'Crowd's turning on ya sport,' he said. Angel looked helplessly between Lorne and the rest of his friends, but he still couldn't manage to sing a note.
Gunn's eyes suddenly flashed silver, and he growled - like the big cat in the whiteroom.
Angel flinched. Lorne stared at him. 'You still got that thing on your shirt?' he asked. The vampire looked down - and this time he saw what was really there - the small, blue, slimy creature munching away on him - sapping his energy and sucking his life force. He reached down … and with his eyes scrunched up and a grunt of pain, he ripped the creature from his chest and crushed it in his hands.
...
'Wow, you killed Junior,' Lilah was standing in front of him. She had on a pair of pajamas and her hair was wrapped up, turban like, in a silk scarf. She was carrying a large wooden box. 'No wonder you were the hero,' she said, walking towards him, 'Angel - the dark avenger - he always finds a way.' She sat down on the bed and carefully unwrapped her turban, shaking her hair loose. Angel watched her, mesmerised as her hair cascaded down her shoulders and then she flipped it - like Rita Hayworth in Gilda. 'But that just isn't you anymore.' she said, 'Look at you.' Angel glanced down at himself - and when he looked back up, Lilah was wearing a pair of sunglasses. 'You can't even save yourself,' she said from behind the shades, 'no wonder the PTB have found a bigger fish to fry. Speaking of bigger fish … wanna see what's in the box?'
'Ah - yes - here we go…' After what had seemed like far too long, Wesley had managed to find something in one of his big, heavy books. He slammed it down on the desk and tapped the illustration he had found within. 'You were on the right track, Doyle,' he said, 'I've been focusing on sprites, imps and those creatures of a more fey or puckish nature - rather than demons - and this seems to fit the spec quite well.'
'Akashelshi,' Fred read over his shoulder.
'A primitive, trickster spirit,' Wesley informed her, 'gets inside a victim's head - makes them see all manner of things. They become a danger to themselves and others, often they kill innocents - sometimes they kill themselves. You've done a good job protecting Cordy, Doyle,' he assured the worried half demon, 'this little bugger can cause an awful lot of damage.'
'So do you know how we can stop it?' Fred asked.
'Stopping it is the easy part,' Wesley replied. 'To force out the possession of a sprite one must simply smash the effigy - in this case the effigy of Akashelshi. And Cordelia will be fixed. Unfortunately there's a catch.'
'There always is,' Fred said glumly.
'Quite. A trickster spirit must be summoned. They are controlled by the one who summons them. Akashelshi is the one causing this, but I have no idea who might be controlling him.'
Doyle had not said anything yet, not even when he had been commended on his care of Cordelia - of having kept her safe from harming herself or others. He was staring down at the picture of the trickster spirit. His breath was catching in his throat, and the blood was pounding in his ears as he felt himself gripped with a rage that was more intense than anything he had ever felt before; even worse than the darkest of his early demon days. This was a rage born from betrayal - and a betrayal that had led to the person he loved more than anything in the world being hurt, at that. It was a rage that must have almost equalled Angel's own when Connor was taken.
The picture showed a rough hewn statuette carved out of driftwood. It was ugly and squat … and he recognised it. He recognised it. He recognised the picture and he recognised the name. He balled his fist and forced down his anger. That would have to come later. For now, he needed to save Cordy. 'I know who's controllin' it,' he said, though there was a catch in his voice. He went over to the computer and started to search the database, nodding when he found what he was looking for. 'Fred,' he said - and his voice still trembled with suppressed anger, 'I need you to go and get Gunn.'
Angel stared at Lilah. Her eyes were still hidden behind the shades - but her smile was cruel and wolfish. He looked down at the box. 'That's right,' she said, her voice - unlike her smile - was silky smooth and soft. 'It'll all be over soon.' She lifted the lid - and a far, far larger blue creature jumped out.
