Spike watched from the shadows. He'd always been good at that. Especially around his Sire. Of course, a brass band could have kept themselves hidden from Angel these days. Why?
He was just a little obsessed.
With a dead woman.
Of course, for Angelus, that was nothing unusual. Except that this particular dead woman had already died twice. And by the feel of the limousine pulling up outside Darla's hotel room, she would again. So far Angel had kept her human, but the vamp inside the limo would change all that. Spike gasped an unneeded breath when he saw who it was.
This night a vampire would sire her own grandsire.
Within minutes, the party was over, the guests were leaving.
Spike followed. Forty minutes later they reached their destination, but Spike kept going. He knew where they were, and besides.
Dawn was coming.
* * * * * *
Cordelia handed Angel some sheets of paper. "Okay, here's the list of local cemeteries, funeral homes and mauso...Oh Shit!"
A crossbow bolt had just punched a hole through the sheaf of papers and embeded itself in the desk. The AI team looked around for the assailant and prepared for an attack. But none were forthcoming. Angel picked the bolt out of the desktop. Wrapped around it was a business card belonging to a plant nursery. He ripped it off. On the back was written. 'She rises here, now. An ally.'
Ordinarily, Angel would be suspicious. Ordinarily he would let his associates, his friends, know where he was going. But these were far from ordinary circumstances. He had grabbed his coat and was in his car with the keys in the ignition faster than the words can be said.
Half an hour later, he entered the green house. Inside he found a dirt filled seedbed. He brushed the dirt aside until he found the shroud that covered Darla's face. For a moment he hesitated, then pulled it aside.
Like most corpses, she merely looked asleep. Calm and serene. Angel pulled a stake from his pocket and raised it. The first prayer in a long time flashed through his mind. *Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.*
Moments later, Darla ceased to exist.
Harsh, slow clapping came from the dark. An equally dark voice floated out. One that Angel had last heard amidst agonising torture. "Well done. Din' think you'd actually go through with it for a moment. But you did."
A figure emerged from the shadows, and Angel growled out it's name. "Spike. Should've figured. Where Dru goes, her whipped puppy follows."
"Sorry to disappoint, Peaches, but I'm someone else's puppy now. Don't worry 'bout Dru tho'. She's locked unconcious in a trunk on 'er way to Prague. She always did like Prague. Sorry I couldn't let you kill her, but ah who really knows why. No longer the love of my life, but still there you know? Sorta like you an' the Slayer."
"Leave Buffy out of this." Angel practically growled.
Spike lit a cigarette. "I would if I could figure out how to get 'er out o' my head." He suddenly looked abashed, and began studying his shoes. He'd said far more than he'd intended. It didn't take long for Angel to put two and two together and come up with an answer he in no way liked.
Spike looked back up at his sire just in time to see the fist rushing towards his nose.
Things only went downhill from there.
He was just a little obsessed.
With a dead woman.
Of course, for Angelus, that was nothing unusual. Except that this particular dead woman had already died twice. And by the feel of the limousine pulling up outside Darla's hotel room, she would again. So far Angel had kept her human, but the vamp inside the limo would change all that. Spike gasped an unneeded breath when he saw who it was.
This night a vampire would sire her own grandsire.
Within minutes, the party was over, the guests were leaving.
Spike followed. Forty minutes later they reached their destination, but Spike kept going. He knew where they were, and besides.
Dawn was coming.
* * * * * *
Cordelia handed Angel some sheets of paper. "Okay, here's the list of local cemeteries, funeral homes and mauso...Oh Shit!"
A crossbow bolt had just punched a hole through the sheaf of papers and embeded itself in the desk. The AI team looked around for the assailant and prepared for an attack. But none were forthcoming. Angel picked the bolt out of the desktop. Wrapped around it was a business card belonging to a plant nursery. He ripped it off. On the back was written. 'She rises here, now. An ally.'
Ordinarily, Angel would be suspicious. Ordinarily he would let his associates, his friends, know where he was going. But these were far from ordinary circumstances. He had grabbed his coat and was in his car with the keys in the ignition faster than the words can be said.
Half an hour later, he entered the green house. Inside he found a dirt filled seedbed. He brushed the dirt aside until he found the shroud that covered Darla's face. For a moment he hesitated, then pulled it aside.
Like most corpses, she merely looked asleep. Calm and serene. Angel pulled a stake from his pocket and raised it. The first prayer in a long time flashed through his mind. *Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.*
Moments later, Darla ceased to exist.
Harsh, slow clapping came from the dark. An equally dark voice floated out. One that Angel had last heard amidst agonising torture. "Well done. Din' think you'd actually go through with it for a moment. But you did."
A figure emerged from the shadows, and Angel growled out it's name. "Spike. Should've figured. Where Dru goes, her whipped puppy follows."
"Sorry to disappoint, Peaches, but I'm someone else's puppy now. Don't worry 'bout Dru tho'. She's locked unconcious in a trunk on 'er way to Prague. She always did like Prague. Sorry I couldn't let you kill her, but ah who really knows why. No longer the love of my life, but still there you know? Sorta like you an' the Slayer."
"Leave Buffy out of this." Angel practically growled.
Spike lit a cigarette. "I would if I could figure out how to get 'er out o' my head." He suddenly looked abashed, and began studying his shoes. He'd said far more than he'd intended. It didn't take long for Angel to put two and two together and come up with an answer he in no way liked.
Spike looked back up at his sire just in time to see the fist rushing towards his nose.
Things only went downhill from there.