Chapter Two
"Damn, either it's too cold or way too bloody hot. I hate microwaves," Spike grumbled, handing Angel one of the mugs of warmed blood.
"At least we're ready for the trip," Angel said, lifting his head toward the ceiling as if to be sure Dawn was up in bed and not somewhere listening in. "I'm just not sure we're doing the right thing."
"You don't want to take care of Dawn?" Fred asked, curling her legs up.
Angel didn't answer for a moment. He didn't want to consider the huge responsibility he was taking on. "I was thinking more of should we even be trusting Lindsey. He's helped in the past but he's betrayed us more often than not."
"Now you tell us," Spike grumbled, fishing out his cigarettes. A glare from everyone made him slide them back into his pocket.
"Is this the right decision? Trusting Lindsey to help with Dawn and the hotel? Is it even the right thing for me to take Dawn? She would probably be better off with Giles and the Watchers. At least they're alive," Angel said, shifting the mug between his big hands.
"It's not like you will be raising Dawn alone. You have us," Cordy said with a wave at Wesley, Gunn and herself.
Angel sat back, considering. "Just wish I knew if this was the right path." he trailed off then brightened. "There is a way to test it."
Gunn, Cordy and Wesley's eyes grew big.
"Oh no!" Cordy gasped.
"I really don't think this is a good idea," Wesley said, shaking his head.
"I'm with English on this one," Gunn said.
"Why not?" Angel asked irritated.
"What are you talking about?" Spike asked, perplexed.
"He's talking about Lorne," Wesley said.
"I'll bite. What's a Lorne?" Spike finished draining the mug of pig's blood.
"Lorne is from another dimension, the one we were in when.Buffy died," Cordy said, her gaze dropping. Fred trembled at the mention of Pylea. "He can tell you your future."
"And he could tell me if taking in Dawn is the right thing to do," Angel said, getting more excited about the idea
"So let's go ask," Spike said.
"It's not as simple as that. Lorne doesn't just tell you your future," Wesley said.
"He makes you sing karaoke, man." Gunn shook his head. "Have you ever heard Angel sing?"
The three investigators all shuddered.
"Hey! I'm not so bad," Angel protested and they all gave him a look. "I'm not."
"I've heard him sing. Peaches is the only Irishman I've ever met who couldn't carry a tune with both hands." Spike laughed.
"Well, it's not like they're much better," Angel grumbled, waving his hand at his friends.
"I could sing, if you think it'd help. I'm in this, too," Spike said.
"You?" Cordy snickered.
"Hey, I sing a bloody sight better than Angel does."
"It's worth a try. If Lorne doesn't see anything relating to Dawn in Spike's future, we'll survive Angel's singing.I think," Wesley said, pulling the corners of his mouth down to hide a smile.
They left Fred and Gunn to keep an eye out for Dawn and drove to Caritas only to find a rather long list of names ready to sing. Angel knew the Host would frown on line-jumpers so they added Spike's name to the bottom and took their seats. The smell of fresh paint hung cloyingly in the air . Angel, Wesley and Cordy noticed the damage Angel's car had done to Caritas was well repaired. Business was, as usual, booming but only one lonely demon was to be seen mixed in with the swell of humanity. While an overweight man butchered George Strait's The Fireman, the Host sashayed over to their table.
"How do you tell someone if they don't stop super sizing their fries they won't have a future?" he asked in way of introduction. He leveled his red gaze at Spike. "Another of your friends, Angel-cakes?"
"Sort of," Angel said, ignoring Spike's gleeful look. He mouthed 'don't-you- dare' to the younger vampire knowing it was hopeless. "He'll be singing later."
"I'll be looking forward to it provided you're any better than he is." Lorne hooked a thumb at Angel.
"I can guarantee it." Spike rocked back in his chair and studied the demon.
"Good. Try some of the AB negative. I hear it's very good," Lorne said.
Spike's eyes lit up. "As in the real thing? Not pig's blood?"
"Fresh from the blood bank.well, not so fresh really. That's why they threw it out but I've had no complaints about the taste." Lorne waved a waitress over and waited until she took Spike's order before saying, "The vibes at this table.I'm glad you're in the back. You'd drag me down if I stuck around here."
"We recently lost a friend," Wesley said, glancing at Angel.
Angel dropped his gaze to his entwined fingers, not speaking.
The Host looked from one to the other of the group, seeing the downcast eyes and uneasy expressions on them all. "This friend must have been very special."
"She was the Slayer," Spike said, when none of the others spoke up.
Lorne's gaze softened. "I'm sorry. I hadn't heard." He patted Angel's shoulder, then, almost as an afterthought; laid his hand against Spike's back. "I hate to do this, but I have to do my job. I'll be back later." He then headed for the fat man quitting the stage.
A little while later, Spike sat back contentedly with warm human blood in a wine glass in one hand and a cold beer in the other. He gazed around the club. "Not a bad place. It's not the Bronze but some of these guys are better than some of the bands that got booked there. Does it have any blooming onions?"
"You eat? Angel doesn't," Cordy said.
Spike rolled his eyes. "That's because he's big into denying himself stuff."
"Nothing has any taste," Angel said wearily, tired of this argument.
"Things have taste.well, just a little. It won't keep us alive but I like to eat." Spike lit up. "It's social."
"We're not here for you to find a new hang-out Spike," Angel cautioned.
Spike blew the smoke at him then waved a waitress over to order another round.
"Spike, we need you sober to sing and not overstuffed on blood for that matter," Angel said.
"Takes more than two beers," Spike shot back.
Angel scowled. "I'm not footing your tab, Spike."
"I have money."
"That begs the question of how," Wesley said and Spike shot him the bird.
They settled back into silence until Spike's name was called. He sang a more than passable rendition of Alice Cooper's Poison. Spike rejoined the group after stopping to grab up another beer.
"You're right. You do sing better than Angel," Cordy said. "Not that it takes much."
"Hey!"
"Tell me, I really must know, do you two always fight as much as I'm seeing down the road?" Lorne asked, coming back over.
"Pretty much," Angel said.
Lorne gave an exaggerated roll of his red eyes. "I am so relieved that your futures are interwoven because I'm in no hurry to hear your less than dulcet tones, Angel-cakes."
"Just tell us, are we doing the right thing, taking Dawn in or would she be better off back in Sunnydale?"
"Saddle up, my friend, you're heading to Oklahoma," Lorne replied then sauntered off singing on the top of his voice. "O-o-o-klahoma where the winds go sweeping down the plains!"
"That was just disturbing." Spike gazed after the Host.
Angel ran a hand down his face. "Let's go."
"Sure partner. We'll even get you a ten gallon hat while we're there," Spike drawled in a bad Texas accent.
Angel glared as they got up to leave.
"Cheer up. You know you're doing the right thing now.Angel-cakes." Spike pounded Angel's back as he sailed past.
"Maybe we should just stake him now."
"Damn, either it's too cold or way too bloody hot. I hate microwaves," Spike grumbled, handing Angel one of the mugs of warmed blood.
"At least we're ready for the trip," Angel said, lifting his head toward the ceiling as if to be sure Dawn was up in bed and not somewhere listening in. "I'm just not sure we're doing the right thing."
"You don't want to take care of Dawn?" Fred asked, curling her legs up.
Angel didn't answer for a moment. He didn't want to consider the huge responsibility he was taking on. "I was thinking more of should we even be trusting Lindsey. He's helped in the past but he's betrayed us more often than not."
"Now you tell us," Spike grumbled, fishing out his cigarettes. A glare from everyone made him slide them back into his pocket.
"Is this the right decision? Trusting Lindsey to help with Dawn and the hotel? Is it even the right thing for me to take Dawn? She would probably be better off with Giles and the Watchers. At least they're alive," Angel said, shifting the mug between his big hands.
"It's not like you will be raising Dawn alone. You have us," Cordy said with a wave at Wesley, Gunn and herself.
Angel sat back, considering. "Just wish I knew if this was the right path." he trailed off then brightened. "There is a way to test it."
Gunn, Cordy and Wesley's eyes grew big.
"Oh no!" Cordy gasped.
"I really don't think this is a good idea," Wesley said, shaking his head.
"I'm with English on this one," Gunn said.
"Why not?" Angel asked irritated.
"What are you talking about?" Spike asked, perplexed.
"He's talking about Lorne," Wesley said.
"I'll bite. What's a Lorne?" Spike finished draining the mug of pig's blood.
"Lorne is from another dimension, the one we were in when.Buffy died," Cordy said, her gaze dropping. Fred trembled at the mention of Pylea. "He can tell you your future."
"And he could tell me if taking in Dawn is the right thing to do," Angel said, getting more excited about the idea
"So let's go ask," Spike said.
"It's not as simple as that. Lorne doesn't just tell you your future," Wesley said.
"He makes you sing karaoke, man." Gunn shook his head. "Have you ever heard Angel sing?"
The three investigators all shuddered.
"Hey! I'm not so bad," Angel protested and they all gave him a look. "I'm not."
"I've heard him sing. Peaches is the only Irishman I've ever met who couldn't carry a tune with both hands." Spike laughed.
"Well, it's not like they're much better," Angel grumbled, waving his hand at his friends.
"I could sing, if you think it'd help. I'm in this, too," Spike said.
"You?" Cordy snickered.
"Hey, I sing a bloody sight better than Angel does."
"It's worth a try. If Lorne doesn't see anything relating to Dawn in Spike's future, we'll survive Angel's singing.I think," Wesley said, pulling the corners of his mouth down to hide a smile.
They left Fred and Gunn to keep an eye out for Dawn and drove to Caritas only to find a rather long list of names ready to sing. Angel knew the Host would frown on line-jumpers so they added Spike's name to the bottom and took their seats. The smell of fresh paint hung cloyingly in the air . Angel, Wesley and Cordy noticed the damage Angel's car had done to Caritas was well repaired. Business was, as usual, booming but only one lonely demon was to be seen mixed in with the swell of humanity. While an overweight man butchered George Strait's The Fireman, the Host sashayed over to their table.
"How do you tell someone if they don't stop super sizing their fries they won't have a future?" he asked in way of introduction. He leveled his red gaze at Spike. "Another of your friends, Angel-cakes?"
"Sort of," Angel said, ignoring Spike's gleeful look. He mouthed 'don't-you- dare' to the younger vampire knowing it was hopeless. "He'll be singing later."
"I'll be looking forward to it provided you're any better than he is." Lorne hooked a thumb at Angel.
"I can guarantee it." Spike rocked back in his chair and studied the demon.
"Good. Try some of the AB negative. I hear it's very good," Lorne said.
Spike's eyes lit up. "As in the real thing? Not pig's blood?"
"Fresh from the blood bank.well, not so fresh really. That's why they threw it out but I've had no complaints about the taste." Lorne waved a waitress over and waited until she took Spike's order before saying, "The vibes at this table.I'm glad you're in the back. You'd drag me down if I stuck around here."
"We recently lost a friend," Wesley said, glancing at Angel.
Angel dropped his gaze to his entwined fingers, not speaking.
The Host looked from one to the other of the group, seeing the downcast eyes and uneasy expressions on them all. "This friend must have been very special."
"She was the Slayer," Spike said, when none of the others spoke up.
Lorne's gaze softened. "I'm sorry. I hadn't heard." He patted Angel's shoulder, then, almost as an afterthought; laid his hand against Spike's back. "I hate to do this, but I have to do my job. I'll be back later." He then headed for the fat man quitting the stage.
A little while later, Spike sat back contentedly with warm human blood in a wine glass in one hand and a cold beer in the other. He gazed around the club. "Not a bad place. It's not the Bronze but some of these guys are better than some of the bands that got booked there. Does it have any blooming onions?"
"You eat? Angel doesn't," Cordy said.
Spike rolled his eyes. "That's because he's big into denying himself stuff."
"Nothing has any taste," Angel said wearily, tired of this argument.
"Things have taste.well, just a little. It won't keep us alive but I like to eat." Spike lit up. "It's social."
"We're not here for you to find a new hang-out Spike," Angel cautioned.
Spike blew the smoke at him then waved a waitress over to order another round.
"Spike, we need you sober to sing and not overstuffed on blood for that matter," Angel said.
"Takes more than two beers," Spike shot back.
Angel scowled. "I'm not footing your tab, Spike."
"I have money."
"That begs the question of how," Wesley said and Spike shot him the bird.
They settled back into silence until Spike's name was called. He sang a more than passable rendition of Alice Cooper's Poison. Spike rejoined the group after stopping to grab up another beer.
"You're right. You do sing better than Angel," Cordy said. "Not that it takes much."
"Hey!"
"Tell me, I really must know, do you two always fight as much as I'm seeing down the road?" Lorne asked, coming back over.
"Pretty much," Angel said.
Lorne gave an exaggerated roll of his red eyes. "I am so relieved that your futures are interwoven because I'm in no hurry to hear your less than dulcet tones, Angel-cakes."
"Just tell us, are we doing the right thing, taking Dawn in or would she be better off back in Sunnydale?"
"Saddle up, my friend, you're heading to Oklahoma," Lorne replied then sauntered off singing on the top of his voice. "O-o-o-klahoma where the winds go sweeping down the plains!"
"That was just disturbing." Spike gazed after the Host.
Angel ran a hand down his face. "Let's go."
"Sure partner. We'll even get you a ten gallon hat while we're there," Spike drawled in a bad Texas accent.
Angel glared as they got up to leave.
"Cheer up. You know you're doing the right thing now.Angel-cakes." Spike pounded Angel's back as he sailed past.
"Maybe we should just stake him now."
