CHAPTER THREE
Light spangled in her eyes, bright, warm and all so completely wrong.
There shouldn't be a sun in the sky, forcing her to shade her eyes. There
shouldn't be.a lot of things. She couldn't remember all of them, those
things that shouldn't exist. She kind of thought..
What she could remember was simple. Punch. Kick. Spin. Claw. Grab. Fight fight fight.
Pain.
She remembered pain. It was a constant companion (wrong, so completely wrong), cramping her body, twisting her step, forcing her to the ground. And she knew somehow, ground meant death and would fight to pull herself upright again.
Her eyes, hazy, tired from the sight of the sun, tearing in agony, picked out shapes moving towards her. Her body screamed as she put it into position. Had she thought, she might have wondered at that, what it meant to stand in a certain way, to present the narrowest part of her body to this threat, hands clenched lightly and arms curled up, one leg behind the other, shoulder width apart.
.maybe.
She snarled, a weak, animal sound and surprised herself. Didn't she bare her teeth and growl?
"What is it?"
Strange voice; deep, gravelly. Threat. She blinked her eyes rapidly to clear them, disappointed when it didn't work.
"We've heard reports about it." Second voice, with a tinge of worry.
She focused her attention towards the second voice. That one was weaker.
"Look at it. Do you think it wants to fight?" A coarse laugh. "It's about to collapse."
"Wounded animals always fight harder," the second voice said.
"Surely you don't think it's dangerous." The first voice made fun of the second one.
She squinted, trying to make the blob into something that made sense. Grey mingled with green mingled with flesh tones.not resolving into anything. Heads should be up top. That she knew. Everything else? Well.punch, kick, stab.maybe..
"I'm not interested in taking that chance," the second voice said distastefully.
The blob separated into to two indistinct not-shapes, one of them moving slowly around her. She hitched herself after it, trying to keep her agony from showing.
"It wants to fight. Look at that," the first voice said admiringly.
"It's an animal in pain. It should be destroyed," the second voice said, sounding very bored with all of this.
Her head whipped around, nearly toppling her. She'd almost forgotten the second voice, following the figureless figure of the first. She bit down the groan that threatened to rise in her throat. Couldn't give them that. It might signal their attack.
"No, I've never seen one like this before. We should take it; clean it up. We might be able to make some money."
"Always with the money," the second voice said, starting to sound irritated at last.
Now she swung between the two, unsure which might be the worse threat. Maybe her body decided for her. She found herself moving, stumbling across the ground towards the second voice, wondering why this seemed wrong; why memories told her she could move without pain. She forced her fist to recoil and shoot straight out from her side.
She fell, a tumble to the ground in a spasm of misery, knowing she hadn't even completed her strike. Wrong, all of it wrong.she cried in her head.
"It's making sounds," the first voice said doubtfully.
"It tried to attack me," the second voice said nervously.
"It didn't even get close to you." The first voice overrode the second.
There were murmurs beyond that but she stopped caring, her eyes wide open, staring up at the sky. Agony smothered her like a blanket, making her twitch and groan but she didn't fight when her hands and feet were tied and they hoisted her off the ground. Dangling, she swung, her head lolling because of its weight on her neck, everything moving past her at too quick a rate so she closed her eyes. A thought spooled through her, or maybe an instinct, but she wondered at it, marveled; hated it.
Maybe.wasn't she supposed to be dead?
* * * "Here," Spike said, directing Angel to the right street. Dawn bounced in her seat next to him, her excitement coloring her cheeks.
"The magic shop?" Angel asked, parking his car. Dawn swung open the door, jumping out of it before he had the engine turned off.
"Rupert bought it," Spike said, climbing out of the car. He grabbed Angel's bag and flung it at him, a smarmy grin plastered on his face. "Oh, wait. You didn't know that, did you?"
Gunn glanced around, taking in the sights as he exited Cordelia's car. "Suburbia." He nodded. "It's a lot cleaner than L.A."
"Why are we here?" Cordelia asked as Dawn started for the entrance. She tugged the door open, bells jangling.
Angel gave her a slight shrug. "Giles bought it," he said.
"Oh."
"Mr. Giles is a shop keeper?" Wesley said, peering up at the sign above the door.
"Oo, it speaks." Cordelia flashed him a look. "I don't know how you could read for two straight hours. My stomach gets queasy if I look at anything in a car."
A faint grin touched Wesley's mouth. "Superior Watcher training, I suppose," he said smugly.
"God, couldn't you have left me in Oklahoma?" Lindsey said.
"No," chorused the others.
Spike ignored them to light up a cigarette. "Home sweet Sunnydale," he said. "Can't say I've missed the place. Well, I could." He rolled his shoulders. "'Course, I didn't leave in such a dramatic way, breakin' a girl's heart an' all."
Angel grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. "Put that thing out and get inside."
Spike took a long drag on the cigarette, blowing the smoke into Angel's face. He pulled free, adjusting the collar of his jacket and flicked the butt onto the sidewalk. "Just you remember, Angel," he said. "I'm a good guy, here." With that, he swaggered up to the door, following Dawn inside.
"Eww, there's just something wrong with that," Cordy said, shaking her hands as if she'd touched something noxious.
"You don't hear me arguing," Angel said, almost under his breath. Squaring his shoulders, he followed Spike, the others falling in behind him.
The sight that greeted his eyes as he opened the door was one he would have never expected to see, even if he lived forever. Spike and Xander, standing together, Xander shaking Spike's hand and grinning madly. Angel froze on the doorstep, causing Cordelia to smash into his back. She wormed out from behind him, angry that he'd screwed up her entrance then took in the scene before them. "Oh, that's even more wrong," she muttered, then took Angel's arm, hauling him in with her.
"Spike. You came back," Xander was saying as they drew closer.
"Knew you needed me. That the Slayer needed me." Spike released Xander's hand and stepped away, giving Angel a look. "So. Where is she and where do I need to go to get her back?"
"It-it isn't that easy." Tara appeared from the back room, hesitating slightly upon seeing the newcomers.
"Tara!" Dawn flung herself at the young woman, who caught her, hugging her close. "I'm so glad to see you."
"I'm g-glad to see you, Dawn," she said, stroking her hair from her face. "You look great."
"I'm okay." Her eyes swam with tears but none fell. "I missed you."
"We all missed you," Tara said in reply.
"And I see you brought Wesley and Cordelia. Nice to see you again," Xander said, favoring both of them with an uneasy look. "And other.reinforcements?"
Gunn stepped forward. "Gunn," he said and tilted his head to indicate the man next to him. "And Lindsey. He's here under protest."
Lindsey spread his hands. "Your vampire friends came all the way to Oklahoma for her." He motioned with his chin at Dawn. "Pretty persistent."
"Oklahoma?" Xander fixed Angel with a stare.
"Angel's my temporary guardian," Dawn said.
"Angel?" Xander said. "Man, the things just keep getting weirder."
"Yes, well," Wesley said. "Be that as it may, I suppose we have a lot of work to do."
"Research." Xander rubbed his hands together. "Good thing I brought extra jelly doughnuts." He gestured at a table, strewn with books and surrounded by comfortable-looking chairs. A box perched precariously on top of a stack of books, obviously the proclaimed pastries.
An interruption came in the forms of two women, one blonde, one redhead, appearing from where an office might be. Dawn's face brightened more and she pulled free of Tara to launch herself at them. "Willow!"
"Dawny!" Willow hugged the younger girl. "You're back." She pushed her a little away. "And you've grown!"
Dawn grinned and she ducked her head. "Hey, Anya." She hugged the other women.
"Hello, Dawn." Anya suffered the hug, though she watched the strangers in the shop closely. "Are they customers? Oh, no, there're Angel and Cordelia. Probably not." She sighed.
"You haven't changed a bit," Dawn said.
"Should I have?" Anya looked a little puzzled.
"Well, Cordy, have you been breaking hearts in L.A.?" Xander asked.
"Heads is more like it," Gunn said proudly. "Our girl's gettin' good with an axe."
"Cordelia?" Xander asked in surprise.
She smiled at Gunn. "L.A.'s been good to me."
"What happened with Harmony?" Willow asked.
Cordelia's face turned stony. "I told her to get out of my town," she said.
"Wait a minute. Harm came to L.A.? And no one told me?" Spike glared at Cordelia.
"We should've staked her," Gunn muttered.
"She used to be a friend of mine," Cordelia said.
"Oh, I used to date her and I think you should've staked her, too," Spike said. "Tried to once. She had on that bleeding Gem of Amarra so it didn't take." He perked up. "What happened to that thing?"
"After you finished torturing me? I destroyed it," Angel said tightly. He noticed the expressions on the faces of Buffy's friends but didn't regret telling them. He paced into the room. "Willow. We have texts that might help find Buffy, give us an idea where she is, how to get her back. Where do you want them?"
"Oh, of course. The table." Willow motioned. "Do you need help with them?"
"No, I've got them." Angel left the store, hoping the air outside would clear his head. That Xander would welcome Spike back gnawed at him. That Willow and Tara seemed fine with him was almost more than Angel could understand. Didn't they understand that Spike was a killer?
A faint chime of bells alerted him to Wesley's approach. "Don't let it get to you, Angel."
"Let what get to me?"
Wesley put his hands behind his back. "I know it has to hurt, after all you've been through with them." His glasses reflected the street lamp as he turned towards Angel. "They trust Spike and they don't trust you."
"They're right not to trust me," Angel said bitterly. "I tried to kill Willow. I tortured Giles and killed the woman he loved. I would've sent this world to hell, if Buffy hadn't sent me there first. I nearly drained Buffy. I beat up her boyfriend." He looked away from the younger man. "I hurt her so much."
Wesley nodded. "I know." He squeezed Angel's shoulder. "But now you have a chance to bring her back to those who love her. Who need her." He coughed softly, changing the subject. "Those texts we stole from Wolfram and Hart are amazing, Angel. One is filled with dimensional maps. I haven't had much time to look at them but what I've seen confounds me. It isn't right that those blackguards should have access to such things."
"Maybe we can take that up with them, afterwards," Angel said. He opened the trunk of the GTX. "Come on. Let's get these inside so we can find Buffy."
"And bring her home," Wesley said.
Angel let a smile touch the corners of his mouth at Wesley's optimism. "And bring her home."
* * *
Spike was bored.
Everyone lolled around, not doing anything. Well, they were doing research, noses buried in books and texts and all, but not doing anything interesting. He'd gone outside and smoked his last cigarette hours ago and no one seemed any closer to finding the Slayer than they did while he was chasing around Oklahoma with the poofter. He got to his feet abruptly, tossing his book onto the table with a thud. Four or five people jumped. Angel just looked at him, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm going out," Spike said.
"You're needed here," Angel said.
"I've gone through that bloody book there and those over there," Spike stabbed a finger at the offending texts, "and they've got nothing that'll help us. And I'm out of cigarettes and I need a smoke." He rolled his shoulders. "Besides, thought I might get in some slaying. Bet there's vamps out there."
Dawn closed her book. "I'd like to change clothes," she said hopefully. "I mean, get something new to wear? I haven't had a real shower in.." She made a face. "I could go with Spike."
"That's not a good idea, Dawn," Willow said.
"Yeah, you don't need to be picked up for shoplifting," Xander said.
Spike glared at him. "I've got money," he said.
"That'd be a first," Harris returned.
"I'll go," Angel said, getting up. "I'll take Dawn to Buf--the house," he hesitated. "You do still have the house?"
"Yeah, Tara and I are living there," Willow said, gesturing at the other woman. "Your stuff is still in your room, Dawn."
"Thanks." She twisted her head. "Spike can ride with us."
"I don't need to ride with anyone," Spike groused, not happy with the idea of spending more time with Angel. "I'll just pop over to the nearest Quickie Mart, get my smokes and check out the cemeteries on the way back."
Angel fixed him with a look. "Somehow, the idea of you being out of my sight is not making me happy."
Spike flashed him a two-fingered salute. "Don't care."
"Just let him go, Angel," Willow said, brushing back her hair. "I'm not in the mood to listen to him complain."
That hurt, Red turning on him, but at least she agreed. "Right. I'm off." Spike turned on his heel and walked out the door, letting it close behind him. He took a deep, unneeded breath and sauntered off. He wasn't good with the studying, anyway. He'd rather beat his answers out of someone. It was a hell of a lot more satisfying than reading.
Dawn stared at the door, feeling a little let down that Spike would just go off and leave her like that. Someone said something involving her name and she shook her head slightly. "What?"
"Do you still want to get clothes?" Angel asked.
At least Angel was still around. He was a lot more patient than Spike, any day. She'd realized how it must've bothered him, to see Spike welcomed back and wished there'd been something she could do. "Yeah," she said, reaching out to take his hand in his, glancing around at the others to make sure they noticed. "Thanks for doing this, Angel."
The corner of his mouth quirked up, as if he knew what she was saying to everyone in the room. "It's no problem, Dawn." They walked out of the store together.
"What was that about?" Xander asked, slamming his book shut.
"I can't believe you'd ask that, Xander," Cordelia said. "What's with your being all buddy-buddy with Spike?"
"I'm not friends with him," Xander snapped back.
"Couldn't have proved it by me. 'Spike! Good to see you!' And none of you said anything to Angel," Cordelia said, waving her hand around the room. "I don't know why he's bothering to help any of you."
"Because of Buffy." Wesley's voice cut through whatever rejoinder Xander might have made. "He's here for the same reason as the rest of us, because he loves Buffy."
Xander subsided, folding his arms and tucking into himself. "Still doesn't mean I trust him," he muttered, almost under his breath. Anya touched his shoulder.
"M-maybe not, but we do need to work together," Tara said.
"I agree. And Angel has had experiences in other dimensions. He is best suited to go after Buffy, once we locate her position." Wesley smiled faintly. "Well, Gunn, Cordelia and I were in Pylea as well."
"I miss Pylea," Cordelia said wistfully.
"Yeah, well, you were crowned queen. We were just rebels," Gunn said, cocking his feet up on the table in front of him.
"Queen?" Anya leaned forward, interestedly. "Did you get many jewels?"
"Guys," Willow said, her expression suddenly alarmed.
"I had a really, really nice tiara," Cordelia said, smiling in remembrance
"Guys?" Willow asked, her voice a little louder.
"Was it worth a lot of money?" Anya asked eagerly.
"Guys!" Willow slammed her book onto the table.
"Careful with that," Lindsey said, reaching out to take the book from her. "That's a one-of-a-kind."
"W-what is it, baby?" Tara asked, concerned.
"Angel's going with Dawn to the house," Willow said, looking around the room.
"Yeah, so? To get Dawny a change of clothes," Xander said.
Willow gritted her teeth. "The Buffy-Bot is at the house."
"Buffy-Bot?" Gunn asked.
Comprehension dawned on Xander's face. "Oh man, I would pay money to see this."
Willow jumped out of her chair, running for the telephone and punching in numbers.
"Buffy-Bot?" Cordelia asked.
"Spike had a robot made that looks just like Buffy," Anya said. "For sex."
"For sex?" Cordelia made a face. "With Spike? Eww."
"That was pretty much our reaction," Xander said. "Wonder what the Bot will think of Angel?"
"I guess we'll find out," Willow said, slumping back against the countertop. "There's no answer at the house."
* * * Spike let up a cigarette, taking a long drag on it. He popped it out of his mouth, smiling slightly as he watched the smoke curl up into the air, then blew rings into the night. Smoking was a pure delight. He couldn't even remember when he'd taken up smoking, only that he felt twitchy without a pack of smokes. He decided that Angelus had probably given him his first cigarette, or, more likely, he'd filched it from his elder. Back then, he'd wanted so badly to fit in with the others, to be a part of their pack. But Darla despised him and Angelus, well, he wasn't exactly pleased with the playmate Drusilla'd picked out for herself. It wasn't until after those bloody gypsies cursed Angelus with a soul that Spike realized he'd come into his own. That and killing off that Slayer during the Boxer Rebellion.
Spike sauntered along the street. Soon, he'd have to make an appearance back with the Scoobs. Wouldn't do to just leave them alone with Angel and his pep squad. Someone might get ideas, like maybe he wasn't necessary to this little venture. And while he was still the Big Bad when it came to demons in this town, the humans might side with Angel rather than him. "Can't have that, can we?" Spike muttered to himself. Even the lawyer was willing to help Angel, probably just so the wanker wouldn't pop off his head. He really envied the great poof that. Even with a soul, he could still hurt people. The chip in Spike's head didn't allow for that kind of fun. It didn't make any distinctions between bad human and good human.
He kicked at a rock, just so he could hear it clatter down the street. Nights in Sunnydale were always quiet, unless you were a vampire or part of the Scoobie team. Cars weren't the norm, they were the exception on the streets. Kids walked everywhere, not realizing what fates they tempted. He rarely saw any cops out at night, probably because they had the good sense to hide when the sun went down. The whole town seemed to be under some mass hallucination when it came to the evil it contained.
But that wasn't important any more, at least not while he couldn't do anything about it. Killing demons was fun; well, at least he got to fight them. Their blood wasn't good to drink though, and he thought back to the last time he'd had human blood, fresh from the kill. Dru had tried to woo him back, offering to lead him back down that crimson path. He would've accepted, part of him still kicked himself for not going off with her to torment Angel, but he'd been in love with Buffy.
Spike tossed aside the cigarette butt. He really hoped they'd be able to bring Buffy back. Things just weren't the same without her. Even before he'd fallen in love with the Slayer (and wasn't that a bloody cock-up, a vampire in love with a Slayer, the poofter excepted), he'd realized Buffy was special. And being in love with her, even though she didn't love him back and probably never would, just made it that much harder for her not to be in this world.
He wondered briefly how the others dealt with their pain. He'd seen Dawn crying on Angel's shoulder and the other vampire's agony etched into his face though he'd yet to see Angel break down. He remembered Rupert's disbelief and horror and Harris, setting down Anya and going to Buffy's body, begging her to get up, they'd won, time to celebrate. He almost remembered Red's shrieks, drowning out his own tears. And Dawn, throwing herself onto what remained of her sister, screaming that she couldn't be dead, shouldn't be dead, get up, get up.
Spike turned the box of matches in his jacket pocket, ignoring the trembling in his fingers. They were going to get the Slayer back. If the Scoobs couldn't come up with a way, if Rupert didn't have the right texts, if that lawyer didn't steal the right spells, he and Angel would raise her from the dead. There was no one who could take Buffy's place and that was the one thing that both vampires agreed upon.
No one or no thing..
"Oh shit." Spike took off for Revello Drive at a dead run, hoping the Bot was out on patrol.
* * * "You don't mind if I take a shower, do you?" Dawn asked as she unlocked the front door.
"No," Angel said. "Go ahead. I can wait."
She smiled her thanks at him and went inside. Angel followed her, closing the door. Dawn glanced around, her fingers trailing over the stair railing. "I, I'm just gonna go upstairs," she said. "Um, make yourself at home."
"Thanks." Angel stood in the entryway, his hands in his pocket as the girl ran up the stairs. He heard the faint sounds of drawers being rummaged through and doors opening and closing, and finally, the sound of rushing water. Sighing, Angel turned to survey the living room.
Not much seemed to have changed since he'd last been here. There were a few more photos scattered around and the faint smell of a cat. An afghan, spangled with stars, draped over the back of one of the chairs. A blown glass statue of Diana and her hounds graced the mantelpiece, with fat candles flanking it. His gaze was drawn to the staircase and what lay above him. Hesitantly, he crossed the room, setting a foot on the first step.
A part of him didn't want to go but he had to see her room, maybe for the last time, if this plan didn't work.
It felt strange to be climbing the stairs. Angel marveled at the emptiness of the house, without Joyce, without Buffy. Even with Dawn here, it seemed the dwelling had lost its heart. The new touches only emphasized it for him. He went down the hall, pausing outside the closed door. Steeling himself, Angel turned the knob and pushed the door open.
Buffy's scent still lingered on the air, but stale, like a remembrance of the girl who'd lived within these walls. He slowly walked inside, clenching his hands against the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. When was the last time he'd been in this room? When was the last time he'd climbed the tree outside the house, to have a chance to be with Buffy? He wondered if she'd missed that, his climbing up to see her. He prowled around the room, tallying up the things he remembered against the things he'd never seen before, wondering if there was any part of him left in here. The thought came to him that he was an intruder; that he had no right to think that way, or even be in this room. He'd made his break from Buffy, physically, mentally, even if emotionally, he could never really tear himself away. There was no place for him here anymore.
Nodding curtly to himself, knowing that's the way it needed to be, Angel took a deep breath, inhaling her fading scent once more. He let the memories wash over him completely, until he felt like he was drowning in them, drowning in her one last time. His mind played tricks on him, lulling him with the sound of her footsteps coming up the stairs, her stride along the hall, her voice speaking..
"What are you doing in my room?"
Angel snapped his eyes open, whirling in shock.
Buffy stood in the doorway, her head cocked to one side, a frown marring her face.
"Buffy?" he asked, his voice cracking. This couldn't be, it couldn't be. He was dreaming or going insane. Buffy was not standing right in front of him, alive.
She pursed her lips, the furrow on her brow deepening. "Do I know you?"
Maybe, they'd already brought her back. Maybe, she didn't remember him, from whatever horrors she faced in the other dimension. He reached out for her, but faltered at the confused expression on her face. "Buffy, it's me.Angel."
"Angel?" She brightened. "You're bloody stupid and your hair sticks straight up."
He took in a deep breath at that, a choked laugh of surprise escaping him. "Wh-what?"
She tilted her head the other way, still smiling. "You're bloody stupid and your hair sticks straight up. Oh. And you're a vampire, just like my Spike." Her face crumpled back into a pout. "You haven't seen my Spikey, have you? He's my dastardly love-puppy."
"Your, your what?" Angel stared at her in disbelief.
"Spike, silly." The vapid smile was back in place. "I love him."
He reached out to grab her shoulders. She let him touch her, her bright eyes staring up at him, like pretty glass jewels. Angel squeezed her flesh, which didn't feel right. It was cool and now that he was closer, he could hear things happening below the surface that had nothing to do with a heartbeat and blood rushing and lungs pumping oxygen.
She didn't smell like Buffy any more than she really felt like Buffy, though the duplication was so exact that it even fooled him. Angel let her go, slowly circling her, it. The machine stared placidly ahead, its mouth tilted up in a weird mockery of Buffy's smile. "What are you?" he asked.
"I'm Buffy," it said patiently.
"No, you're not," Angel said. "Buffy is.well, she's not here and you aren't her. You're a machine."
"That's not nice," the machine said, pouting again. God, it even had some of her mannerisms.
"Angel?" Dawn appeared in the doorway, smelling of honeysuckle shampoo. "What's going on-oh." She took a step back.
"Dawn? Do you know what this.thing is?" Angel swept a hand at the machine.
"Uh, Buffy-Bot," Dawn said, stammering just a little. "It's a robot, Spike had her, it, I mean, built, because Buffy didn't love him." Her eyes widened at the expression that must have crossed his face. "Angel, wait, he didn't mean anything by it!"
"Stay here," Angel said, stepping past the thing that bore Buffy's face and the sister Buffy loved, striding down the hall and quickly moving down the stairs. As if his timing couldn't be more perfect, the front door swung open and Spike rushed through, panting.
"Dawn?" he shouted, then saw Angel. "Oh, shit."
Angel snarled, flinging himself the rest of the way down the stairs, crashing into the smaller vampire. They went down in a heap of thrashing limbs, halfway out the house. Spike grabbed the doorjamb, hauling himself away from Angel's grasping hands. He kicked the older vampire in the face, knocking Angel back. Angel rolled into a crouch, springing at Spike, managing to take him off the porch and onto the ground. Spike's head hit the sidewalk with a sickening crunch.
"Bloody hell," he growled, grappling with Angel, trying to throw him off. Angel used his weight to hold the smaller vampire down, rearing back to hit him. He pounded his fist into Spike once, twice; then somehow, Spike threw him off, gaining the upper hand.
Spike hit back, taking delight in smashing Angel's face. He cut his fist on a fang and laughed, reveling in the sensation of battle. He hadn't had enough to beat on lately and hitting Angel relieved a lot of his frustrations. The fact that the elder vampire was likely to kill him afterwards, well, that didn't mean he wouldn't have fun while it lasted.
Angel grabbed Spike's shoulders, jerking him down. Their foreheads collided hard and Angel pushed Spike off of him. The blond rolled and caught himself, showing his fangs as Angel readied himself for the next pounce.
"Stop it!" Dawn was suddenly there, flinging herself between them.
"Move, little bit," Spike said through his split lip.
"No," she said, holding a hand out to either of them. Her eyes rolled in fear but she stood her ground. "No! I'm not going to let this happen!"
"Dawn, this doesn't concern you," Angel said, not taking his eyes off his prey, hiding behind the girl.
She stomped her foot. "It does! Look, you're making a scene and-and Buffy would hate it! She wouldn't want you two fighting and I don't want you fighting, so you can just stop!"
"Not that easy, niblet," Spike said. "I took over Angel's territory." He licked his lips, tasting the blood and smiling. "All of it."
Angel snarled back, wanting to sweep the girl out of his way so he could finish pounding Spike into dust.
"You're not a pair of cats, you're, well, you're adults. You have to work together, for my sake." Dawn looked from one to the other, her face screwed up. "For Buffy's sake." Her voice trembled as she said, "Please."
"Get out of here, Spike," Angel growled.
"Think I like it here, Peaches," Spike said mockingly.
Dawn whirled on him. "Spike. Go!" She shoved at his shoulders. "Please go!"
His mouth twitched as he looked up at her, her tearing eyes. His face softened, even through the vampire mien. "Dawn," he said.
"For me, Spike," she said, her fingers tangling in his jacket collar. "Please."
Spike's eyes narrowed as he looked beyond her to Angel, barely checked by the girl between them. "For you," he said, and pulled away, running off into the night.
Dawn managed to grab Angel's shirt before he could chase after Spike. "No, Angel, stay with me, please stay here," Dawn cried.
Angel wanted to tear free of her grip but she was a little girl, a child, someone who needed him more than he needed to smash Spike's laughing face in. Trembling with thwarted rage, he reined the demon in, his features smoothing back to human. "Dawn," he said, her name racked with pain.
She buried her face into his chest, holding tightly to his shirt. Angel tore his gaze away from Spike's trail, carefully laying his hands on Dawn's shaking shoulders. She was saying something into his chest and he carefully pushed her away, ducking to her level. "What, Dawn?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I forgot about her, the Buffy-Bot. I-I should've told you. Warned you. I'm so sorry, Angel."
"It isn't your fault, Dawn," Angel said. He smoothed her hair off her face. "Come on, let's go inside and I'll make you some hot chocolate. You do still like hot chocolate, right?"
She mustered a weak smile. "You're patronizing me."
"Yeah, well, I'm sort of not sure how to react to all this, okay?" Angel tucked her under his arm and guided her back into the house. "It's not every day you meet a robot based off your ex-girlfriend."
The Buffy-Bot smiled at them as they came inside. "You're Dawn," she said. She opened her arms and Dawn awkwardly went into them. "You're my baby sister. I love you."
Dawn sighed shakily. "That's right. I'm your baby sister." She pulled free and the machine turned her attention to Angel.
"Did you scare off my boyfriend, Spike?"
"No, I did. I asked him to leave," Dawn said.
"Oh." The machine looked downcast. "I miss him," she said, shuffling her feet.
"Well," Dawn glanced at Angel, gnawing on her lower lip. "Um, I guess we're going to make hot chocolate. Do you want to come with us?"
The Buffy-Bot brightened. "Sure! Can I do anything?"
"Just come into the kitchen," Dawn said, taking the machine by the arm.
Angel followed them both, shaking his head. Sometime, soon, he and Spike would have to settle this.
But for now, it could wait. For Dawn's sake.
And for Buffy's.
What she could remember was simple. Punch. Kick. Spin. Claw. Grab. Fight fight fight.
Pain.
She remembered pain. It was a constant companion (wrong, so completely wrong), cramping her body, twisting her step, forcing her to the ground. And she knew somehow, ground meant death and would fight to pull herself upright again.
Her eyes, hazy, tired from the sight of the sun, tearing in agony, picked out shapes moving towards her. Her body screamed as she put it into position. Had she thought, she might have wondered at that, what it meant to stand in a certain way, to present the narrowest part of her body to this threat, hands clenched lightly and arms curled up, one leg behind the other, shoulder width apart.
.maybe.
She snarled, a weak, animal sound and surprised herself. Didn't she bare her teeth and growl?
"What is it?"
Strange voice; deep, gravelly. Threat. She blinked her eyes rapidly to clear them, disappointed when it didn't work.
"We've heard reports about it." Second voice, with a tinge of worry.
She focused her attention towards the second voice. That one was weaker.
"Look at it. Do you think it wants to fight?" A coarse laugh. "It's about to collapse."
"Wounded animals always fight harder," the second voice said.
"Surely you don't think it's dangerous." The first voice made fun of the second one.
She squinted, trying to make the blob into something that made sense. Grey mingled with green mingled with flesh tones.not resolving into anything. Heads should be up top. That she knew. Everything else? Well.punch, kick, stab.maybe..
"I'm not interested in taking that chance," the second voice said distastefully.
The blob separated into to two indistinct not-shapes, one of them moving slowly around her. She hitched herself after it, trying to keep her agony from showing.
"It wants to fight. Look at that," the first voice said admiringly.
"It's an animal in pain. It should be destroyed," the second voice said, sounding very bored with all of this.
Her head whipped around, nearly toppling her. She'd almost forgotten the second voice, following the figureless figure of the first. She bit down the groan that threatened to rise in her throat. Couldn't give them that. It might signal their attack.
"No, I've never seen one like this before. We should take it; clean it up. We might be able to make some money."
"Always with the money," the second voice said, starting to sound irritated at last.
Now she swung between the two, unsure which might be the worse threat. Maybe her body decided for her. She found herself moving, stumbling across the ground towards the second voice, wondering why this seemed wrong; why memories told her she could move without pain. She forced her fist to recoil and shoot straight out from her side.
She fell, a tumble to the ground in a spasm of misery, knowing she hadn't even completed her strike. Wrong, all of it wrong.she cried in her head.
"It's making sounds," the first voice said doubtfully.
"It tried to attack me," the second voice said nervously.
"It didn't even get close to you." The first voice overrode the second.
There were murmurs beyond that but she stopped caring, her eyes wide open, staring up at the sky. Agony smothered her like a blanket, making her twitch and groan but she didn't fight when her hands and feet were tied and they hoisted her off the ground. Dangling, she swung, her head lolling because of its weight on her neck, everything moving past her at too quick a rate so she closed her eyes. A thought spooled through her, or maybe an instinct, but she wondered at it, marveled; hated it.
Maybe.wasn't she supposed to be dead?
* * * "Here," Spike said, directing Angel to the right street. Dawn bounced in her seat next to him, her excitement coloring her cheeks.
"The magic shop?" Angel asked, parking his car. Dawn swung open the door, jumping out of it before he had the engine turned off.
"Rupert bought it," Spike said, climbing out of the car. He grabbed Angel's bag and flung it at him, a smarmy grin plastered on his face. "Oh, wait. You didn't know that, did you?"
Gunn glanced around, taking in the sights as he exited Cordelia's car. "Suburbia." He nodded. "It's a lot cleaner than L.A."
"Why are we here?" Cordelia asked as Dawn started for the entrance. She tugged the door open, bells jangling.
Angel gave her a slight shrug. "Giles bought it," he said.
"Oh."
"Mr. Giles is a shop keeper?" Wesley said, peering up at the sign above the door.
"Oo, it speaks." Cordelia flashed him a look. "I don't know how you could read for two straight hours. My stomach gets queasy if I look at anything in a car."
A faint grin touched Wesley's mouth. "Superior Watcher training, I suppose," he said smugly.
"God, couldn't you have left me in Oklahoma?" Lindsey said.
"No," chorused the others.
Spike ignored them to light up a cigarette. "Home sweet Sunnydale," he said. "Can't say I've missed the place. Well, I could." He rolled his shoulders. "'Course, I didn't leave in such a dramatic way, breakin' a girl's heart an' all."
Angel grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. "Put that thing out and get inside."
Spike took a long drag on the cigarette, blowing the smoke into Angel's face. He pulled free, adjusting the collar of his jacket and flicked the butt onto the sidewalk. "Just you remember, Angel," he said. "I'm a good guy, here." With that, he swaggered up to the door, following Dawn inside.
"Eww, there's just something wrong with that," Cordy said, shaking her hands as if she'd touched something noxious.
"You don't hear me arguing," Angel said, almost under his breath. Squaring his shoulders, he followed Spike, the others falling in behind him.
The sight that greeted his eyes as he opened the door was one he would have never expected to see, even if he lived forever. Spike and Xander, standing together, Xander shaking Spike's hand and grinning madly. Angel froze on the doorstep, causing Cordelia to smash into his back. She wormed out from behind him, angry that he'd screwed up her entrance then took in the scene before them. "Oh, that's even more wrong," she muttered, then took Angel's arm, hauling him in with her.
"Spike. You came back," Xander was saying as they drew closer.
"Knew you needed me. That the Slayer needed me." Spike released Xander's hand and stepped away, giving Angel a look. "So. Where is she and where do I need to go to get her back?"
"It-it isn't that easy." Tara appeared from the back room, hesitating slightly upon seeing the newcomers.
"Tara!" Dawn flung herself at the young woman, who caught her, hugging her close. "I'm so glad to see you."
"I'm g-glad to see you, Dawn," she said, stroking her hair from her face. "You look great."
"I'm okay." Her eyes swam with tears but none fell. "I missed you."
"We all missed you," Tara said in reply.
"And I see you brought Wesley and Cordelia. Nice to see you again," Xander said, favoring both of them with an uneasy look. "And other.reinforcements?"
Gunn stepped forward. "Gunn," he said and tilted his head to indicate the man next to him. "And Lindsey. He's here under protest."
Lindsey spread his hands. "Your vampire friends came all the way to Oklahoma for her." He motioned with his chin at Dawn. "Pretty persistent."
"Oklahoma?" Xander fixed Angel with a stare.
"Angel's my temporary guardian," Dawn said.
"Angel?" Xander said. "Man, the things just keep getting weirder."
"Yes, well," Wesley said. "Be that as it may, I suppose we have a lot of work to do."
"Research." Xander rubbed his hands together. "Good thing I brought extra jelly doughnuts." He gestured at a table, strewn with books and surrounded by comfortable-looking chairs. A box perched precariously on top of a stack of books, obviously the proclaimed pastries.
An interruption came in the forms of two women, one blonde, one redhead, appearing from where an office might be. Dawn's face brightened more and she pulled free of Tara to launch herself at them. "Willow!"
"Dawny!" Willow hugged the younger girl. "You're back." She pushed her a little away. "And you've grown!"
Dawn grinned and she ducked her head. "Hey, Anya." She hugged the other women.
"Hello, Dawn." Anya suffered the hug, though she watched the strangers in the shop closely. "Are they customers? Oh, no, there're Angel and Cordelia. Probably not." She sighed.
"You haven't changed a bit," Dawn said.
"Should I have?" Anya looked a little puzzled.
"Well, Cordy, have you been breaking hearts in L.A.?" Xander asked.
"Heads is more like it," Gunn said proudly. "Our girl's gettin' good with an axe."
"Cordelia?" Xander asked in surprise.
She smiled at Gunn. "L.A.'s been good to me."
"What happened with Harmony?" Willow asked.
Cordelia's face turned stony. "I told her to get out of my town," she said.
"Wait a minute. Harm came to L.A.? And no one told me?" Spike glared at Cordelia.
"We should've staked her," Gunn muttered.
"She used to be a friend of mine," Cordelia said.
"Oh, I used to date her and I think you should've staked her, too," Spike said. "Tried to once. She had on that bleeding Gem of Amarra so it didn't take." He perked up. "What happened to that thing?"
"After you finished torturing me? I destroyed it," Angel said tightly. He noticed the expressions on the faces of Buffy's friends but didn't regret telling them. He paced into the room. "Willow. We have texts that might help find Buffy, give us an idea where she is, how to get her back. Where do you want them?"
"Oh, of course. The table." Willow motioned. "Do you need help with them?"
"No, I've got them." Angel left the store, hoping the air outside would clear his head. That Xander would welcome Spike back gnawed at him. That Willow and Tara seemed fine with him was almost more than Angel could understand. Didn't they understand that Spike was a killer?
A faint chime of bells alerted him to Wesley's approach. "Don't let it get to you, Angel."
"Let what get to me?"
Wesley put his hands behind his back. "I know it has to hurt, after all you've been through with them." His glasses reflected the street lamp as he turned towards Angel. "They trust Spike and they don't trust you."
"They're right not to trust me," Angel said bitterly. "I tried to kill Willow. I tortured Giles and killed the woman he loved. I would've sent this world to hell, if Buffy hadn't sent me there first. I nearly drained Buffy. I beat up her boyfriend." He looked away from the younger man. "I hurt her so much."
Wesley nodded. "I know." He squeezed Angel's shoulder. "But now you have a chance to bring her back to those who love her. Who need her." He coughed softly, changing the subject. "Those texts we stole from Wolfram and Hart are amazing, Angel. One is filled with dimensional maps. I haven't had much time to look at them but what I've seen confounds me. It isn't right that those blackguards should have access to such things."
"Maybe we can take that up with them, afterwards," Angel said. He opened the trunk of the GTX. "Come on. Let's get these inside so we can find Buffy."
"And bring her home," Wesley said.
Angel let a smile touch the corners of his mouth at Wesley's optimism. "And bring her home."
* * *
Spike was bored.
Everyone lolled around, not doing anything. Well, they were doing research, noses buried in books and texts and all, but not doing anything interesting. He'd gone outside and smoked his last cigarette hours ago and no one seemed any closer to finding the Slayer than they did while he was chasing around Oklahoma with the poofter. He got to his feet abruptly, tossing his book onto the table with a thud. Four or five people jumped. Angel just looked at him, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm going out," Spike said.
"You're needed here," Angel said.
"I've gone through that bloody book there and those over there," Spike stabbed a finger at the offending texts, "and they've got nothing that'll help us. And I'm out of cigarettes and I need a smoke." He rolled his shoulders. "Besides, thought I might get in some slaying. Bet there's vamps out there."
Dawn closed her book. "I'd like to change clothes," she said hopefully. "I mean, get something new to wear? I haven't had a real shower in.." She made a face. "I could go with Spike."
"That's not a good idea, Dawn," Willow said.
"Yeah, you don't need to be picked up for shoplifting," Xander said.
Spike glared at him. "I've got money," he said.
"That'd be a first," Harris returned.
"I'll go," Angel said, getting up. "I'll take Dawn to Buf--the house," he hesitated. "You do still have the house?"
"Yeah, Tara and I are living there," Willow said, gesturing at the other woman. "Your stuff is still in your room, Dawn."
"Thanks." She twisted her head. "Spike can ride with us."
"I don't need to ride with anyone," Spike groused, not happy with the idea of spending more time with Angel. "I'll just pop over to the nearest Quickie Mart, get my smokes and check out the cemeteries on the way back."
Angel fixed him with a look. "Somehow, the idea of you being out of my sight is not making me happy."
Spike flashed him a two-fingered salute. "Don't care."
"Just let him go, Angel," Willow said, brushing back her hair. "I'm not in the mood to listen to him complain."
That hurt, Red turning on him, but at least she agreed. "Right. I'm off." Spike turned on his heel and walked out the door, letting it close behind him. He took a deep, unneeded breath and sauntered off. He wasn't good with the studying, anyway. He'd rather beat his answers out of someone. It was a hell of a lot more satisfying than reading.
Dawn stared at the door, feeling a little let down that Spike would just go off and leave her like that. Someone said something involving her name and she shook her head slightly. "What?"
"Do you still want to get clothes?" Angel asked.
At least Angel was still around. He was a lot more patient than Spike, any day. She'd realized how it must've bothered him, to see Spike welcomed back and wished there'd been something she could do. "Yeah," she said, reaching out to take his hand in his, glancing around at the others to make sure they noticed. "Thanks for doing this, Angel."
The corner of his mouth quirked up, as if he knew what she was saying to everyone in the room. "It's no problem, Dawn." They walked out of the store together.
"What was that about?" Xander asked, slamming his book shut.
"I can't believe you'd ask that, Xander," Cordelia said. "What's with your being all buddy-buddy with Spike?"
"I'm not friends with him," Xander snapped back.
"Couldn't have proved it by me. 'Spike! Good to see you!' And none of you said anything to Angel," Cordelia said, waving her hand around the room. "I don't know why he's bothering to help any of you."
"Because of Buffy." Wesley's voice cut through whatever rejoinder Xander might have made. "He's here for the same reason as the rest of us, because he loves Buffy."
Xander subsided, folding his arms and tucking into himself. "Still doesn't mean I trust him," he muttered, almost under his breath. Anya touched his shoulder.
"M-maybe not, but we do need to work together," Tara said.
"I agree. And Angel has had experiences in other dimensions. He is best suited to go after Buffy, once we locate her position." Wesley smiled faintly. "Well, Gunn, Cordelia and I were in Pylea as well."
"I miss Pylea," Cordelia said wistfully.
"Yeah, well, you were crowned queen. We were just rebels," Gunn said, cocking his feet up on the table in front of him.
"Queen?" Anya leaned forward, interestedly. "Did you get many jewels?"
"Guys," Willow said, her expression suddenly alarmed.
"I had a really, really nice tiara," Cordelia said, smiling in remembrance
"Guys?" Willow asked, her voice a little louder.
"Was it worth a lot of money?" Anya asked eagerly.
"Guys!" Willow slammed her book onto the table.
"Careful with that," Lindsey said, reaching out to take the book from her. "That's a one-of-a-kind."
"W-what is it, baby?" Tara asked, concerned.
"Angel's going with Dawn to the house," Willow said, looking around the room.
"Yeah, so? To get Dawny a change of clothes," Xander said.
Willow gritted her teeth. "The Buffy-Bot is at the house."
"Buffy-Bot?" Gunn asked.
Comprehension dawned on Xander's face. "Oh man, I would pay money to see this."
Willow jumped out of her chair, running for the telephone and punching in numbers.
"Buffy-Bot?" Cordelia asked.
"Spike had a robot made that looks just like Buffy," Anya said. "For sex."
"For sex?" Cordelia made a face. "With Spike? Eww."
"That was pretty much our reaction," Xander said. "Wonder what the Bot will think of Angel?"
"I guess we'll find out," Willow said, slumping back against the countertop. "There's no answer at the house."
* * * Spike let up a cigarette, taking a long drag on it. He popped it out of his mouth, smiling slightly as he watched the smoke curl up into the air, then blew rings into the night. Smoking was a pure delight. He couldn't even remember when he'd taken up smoking, only that he felt twitchy without a pack of smokes. He decided that Angelus had probably given him his first cigarette, or, more likely, he'd filched it from his elder. Back then, he'd wanted so badly to fit in with the others, to be a part of their pack. But Darla despised him and Angelus, well, he wasn't exactly pleased with the playmate Drusilla'd picked out for herself. It wasn't until after those bloody gypsies cursed Angelus with a soul that Spike realized he'd come into his own. That and killing off that Slayer during the Boxer Rebellion.
Spike sauntered along the street. Soon, he'd have to make an appearance back with the Scoobs. Wouldn't do to just leave them alone with Angel and his pep squad. Someone might get ideas, like maybe he wasn't necessary to this little venture. And while he was still the Big Bad when it came to demons in this town, the humans might side with Angel rather than him. "Can't have that, can we?" Spike muttered to himself. Even the lawyer was willing to help Angel, probably just so the wanker wouldn't pop off his head. He really envied the great poof that. Even with a soul, he could still hurt people. The chip in Spike's head didn't allow for that kind of fun. It didn't make any distinctions between bad human and good human.
He kicked at a rock, just so he could hear it clatter down the street. Nights in Sunnydale were always quiet, unless you were a vampire or part of the Scoobie team. Cars weren't the norm, they were the exception on the streets. Kids walked everywhere, not realizing what fates they tempted. He rarely saw any cops out at night, probably because they had the good sense to hide when the sun went down. The whole town seemed to be under some mass hallucination when it came to the evil it contained.
But that wasn't important any more, at least not while he couldn't do anything about it. Killing demons was fun; well, at least he got to fight them. Their blood wasn't good to drink though, and he thought back to the last time he'd had human blood, fresh from the kill. Dru had tried to woo him back, offering to lead him back down that crimson path. He would've accepted, part of him still kicked himself for not going off with her to torment Angel, but he'd been in love with Buffy.
Spike tossed aside the cigarette butt. He really hoped they'd be able to bring Buffy back. Things just weren't the same without her. Even before he'd fallen in love with the Slayer (and wasn't that a bloody cock-up, a vampire in love with a Slayer, the poofter excepted), he'd realized Buffy was special. And being in love with her, even though she didn't love him back and probably never would, just made it that much harder for her not to be in this world.
He wondered briefly how the others dealt with their pain. He'd seen Dawn crying on Angel's shoulder and the other vampire's agony etched into his face though he'd yet to see Angel break down. He remembered Rupert's disbelief and horror and Harris, setting down Anya and going to Buffy's body, begging her to get up, they'd won, time to celebrate. He almost remembered Red's shrieks, drowning out his own tears. And Dawn, throwing herself onto what remained of her sister, screaming that she couldn't be dead, shouldn't be dead, get up, get up.
Spike turned the box of matches in his jacket pocket, ignoring the trembling in his fingers. They were going to get the Slayer back. If the Scoobs couldn't come up with a way, if Rupert didn't have the right texts, if that lawyer didn't steal the right spells, he and Angel would raise her from the dead. There was no one who could take Buffy's place and that was the one thing that both vampires agreed upon.
No one or no thing..
"Oh shit." Spike took off for Revello Drive at a dead run, hoping the Bot was out on patrol.
* * * "You don't mind if I take a shower, do you?" Dawn asked as she unlocked the front door.
"No," Angel said. "Go ahead. I can wait."
She smiled her thanks at him and went inside. Angel followed her, closing the door. Dawn glanced around, her fingers trailing over the stair railing. "I, I'm just gonna go upstairs," she said. "Um, make yourself at home."
"Thanks." Angel stood in the entryway, his hands in his pocket as the girl ran up the stairs. He heard the faint sounds of drawers being rummaged through and doors opening and closing, and finally, the sound of rushing water. Sighing, Angel turned to survey the living room.
Not much seemed to have changed since he'd last been here. There were a few more photos scattered around and the faint smell of a cat. An afghan, spangled with stars, draped over the back of one of the chairs. A blown glass statue of Diana and her hounds graced the mantelpiece, with fat candles flanking it. His gaze was drawn to the staircase and what lay above him. Hesitantly, he crossed the room, setting a foot on the first step.
A part of him didn't want to go but he had to see her room, maybe for the last time, if this plan didn't work.
It felt strange to be climbing the stairs. Angel marveled at the emptiness of the house, without Joyce, without Buffy. Even with Dawn here, it seemed the dwelling had lost its heart. The new touches only emphasized it for him. He went down the hall, pausing outside the closed door. Steeling himself, Angel turned the knob and pushed the door open.
Buffy's scent still lingered on the air, but stale, like a remembrance of the girl who'd lived within these walls. He slowly walked inside, clenching his hands against the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. When was the last time he'd been in this room? When was the last time he'd climbed the tree outside the house, to have a chance to be with Buffy? He wondered if she'd missed that, his climbing up to see her. He prowled around the room, tallying up the things he remembered against the things he'd never seen before, wondering if there was any part of him left in here. The thought came to him that he was an intruder; that he had no right to think that way, or even be in this room. He'd made his break from Buffy, physically, mentally, even if emotionally, he could never really tear himself away. There was no place for him here anymore.
Nodding curtly to himself, knowing that's the way it needed to be, Angel took a deep breath, inhaling her fading scent once more. He let the memories wash over him completely, until he felt like he was drowning in them, drowning in her one last time. His mind played tricks on him, lulling him with the sound of her footsteps coming up the stairs, her stride along the hall, her voice speaking..
"What are you doing in my room?"
Angel snapped his eyes open, whirling in shock.
Buffy stood in the doorway, her head cocked to one side, a frown marring her face.
"Buffy?" he asked, his voice cracking. This couldn't be, it couldn't be. He was dreaming or going insane. Buffy was not standing right in front of him, alive.
She pursed her lips, the furrow on her brow deepening. "Do I know you?"
Maybe, they'd already brought her back. Maybe, she didn't remember him, from whatever horrors she faced in the other dimension. He reached out for her, but faltered at the confused expression on her face. "Buffy, it's me.Angel."
"Angel?" She brightened. "You're bloody stupid and your hair sticks straight up."
He took in a deep breath at that, a choked laugh of surprise escaping him. "Wh-what?"
She tilted her head the other way, still smiling. "You're bloody stupid and your hair sticks straight up. Oh. And you're a vampire, just like my Spike." Her face crumpled back into a pout. "You haven't seen my Spikey, have you? He's my dastardly love-puppy."
"Your, your what?" Angel stared at her in disbelief.
"Spike, silly." The vapid smile was back in place. "I love him."
He reached out to grab her shoulders. She let him touch her, her bright eyes staring up at him, like pretty glass jewels. Angel squeezed her flesh, which didn't feel right. It was cool and now that he was closer, he could hear things happening below the surface that had nothing to do with a heartbeat and blood rushing and lungs pumping oxygen.
She didn't smell like Buffy any more than she really felt like Buffy, though the duplication was so exact that it even fooled him. Angel let her go, slowly circling her, it. The machine stared placidly ahead, its mouth tilted up in a weird mockery of Buffy's smile. "What are you?" he asked.
"I'm Buffy," it said patiently.
"No, you're not," Angel said. "Buffy is.well, she's not here and you aren't her. You're a machine."
"That's not nice," the machine said, pouting again. God, it even had some of her mannerisms.
"Angel?" Dawn appeared in the doorway, smelling of honeysuckle shampoo. "What's going on-oh." She took a step back.
"Dawn? Do you know what this.thing is?" Angel swept a hand at the machine.
"Uh, Buffy-Bot," Dawn said, stammering just a little. "It's a robot, Spike had her, it, I mean, built, because Buffy didn't love him." Her eyes widened at the expression that must have crossed his face. "Angel, wait, he didn't mean anything by it!"
"Stay here," Angel said, stepping past the thing that bore Buffy's face and the sister Buffy loved, striding down the hall and quickly moving down the stairs. As if his timing couldn't be more perfect, the front door swung open and Spike rushed through, panting.
"Dawn?" he shouted, then saw Angel. "Oh, shit."
Angel snarled, flinging himself the rest of the way down the stairs, crashing into the smaller vampire. They went down in a heap of thrashing limbs, halfway out the house. Spike grabbed the doorjamb, hauling himself away from Angel's grasping hands. He kicked the older vampire in the face, knocking Angel back. Angel rolled into a crouch, springing at Spike, managing to take him off the porch and onto the ground. Spike's head hit the sidewalk with a sickening crunch.
"Bloody hell," he growled, grappling with Angel, trying to throw him off. Angel used his weight to hold the smaller vampire down, rearing back to hit him. He pounded his fist into Spike once, twice; then somehow, Spike threw him off, gaining the upper hand.
Spike hit back, taking delight in smashing Angel's face. He cut his fist on a fang and laughed, reveling in the sensation of battle. He hadn't had enough to beat on lately and hitting Angel relieved a lot of his frustrations. The fact that the elder vampire was likely to kill him afterwards, well, that didn't mean he wouldn't have fun while it lasted.
Angel grabbed Spike's shoulders, jerking him down. Their foreheads collided hard and Angel pushed Spike off of him. The blond rolled and caught himself, showing his fangs as Angel readied himself for the next pounce.
"Stop it!" Dawn was suddenly there, flinging herself between them.
"Move, little bit," Spike said through his split lip.
"No," she said, holding a hand out to either of them. Her eyes rolled in fear but she stood her ground. "No! I'm not going to let this happen!"
"Dawn, this doesn't concern you," Angel said, not taking his eyes off his prey, hiding behind the girl.
She stomped her foot. "It does! Look, you're making a scene and-and Buffy would hate it! She wouldn't want you two fighting and I don't want you fighting, so you can just stop!"
"Not that easy, niblet," Spike said. "I took over Angel's territory." He licked his lips, tasting the blood and smiling. "All of it."
Angel snarled back, wanting to sweep the girl out of his way so he could finish pounding Spike into dust.
"You're not a pair of cats, you're, well, you're adults. You have to work together, for my sake." Dawn looked from one to the other, her face screwed up. "For Buffy's sake." Her voice trembled as she said, "Please."
"Get out of here, Spike," Angel growled.
"Think I like it here, Peaches," Spike said mockingly.
Dawn whirled on him. "Spike. Go!" She shoved at his shoulders. "Please go!"
His mouth twitched as he looked up at her, her tearing eyes. His face softened, even through the vampire mien. "Dawn," he said.
"For me, Spike," she said, her fingers tangling in his jacket collar. "Please."
Spike's eyes narrowed as he looked beyond her to Angel, barely checked by the girl between them. "For you," he said, and pulled away, running off into the night.
Dawn managed to grab Angel's shirt before he could chase after Spike. "No, Angel, stay with me, please stay here," Dawn cried.
Angel wanted to tear free of her grip but she was a little girl, a child, someone who needed him more than he needed to smash Spike's laughing face in. Trembling with thwarted rage, he reined the demon in, his features smoothing back to human. "Dawn," he said, her name racked with pain.
She buried her face into his chest, holding tightly to his shirt. Angel tore his gaze away from Spike's trail, carefully laying his hands on Dawn's shaking shoulders. She was saying something into his chest and he carefully pushed her away, ducking to her level. "What, Dawn?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I forgot about her, the Buffy-Bot. I-I should've told you. Warned you. I'm so sorry, Angel."
"It isn't your fault, Dawn," Angel said. He smoothed her hair off her face. "Come on, let's go inside and I'll make you some hot chocolate. You do still like hot chocolate, right?"
She mustered a weak smile. "You're patronizing me."
"Yeah, well, I'm sort of not sure how to react to all this, okay?" Angel tucked her under his arm and guided her back into the house. "It's not every day you meet a robot based off your ex-girlfriend."
The Buffy-Bot smiled at them as they came inside. "You're Dawn," she said. She opened her arms and Dawn awkwardly went into them. "You're my baby sister. I love you."
Dawn sighed shakily. "That's right. I'm your baby sister." She pulled free and the machine turned her attention to Angel.
"Did you scare off my boyfriend, Spike?"
"No, I did. I asked him to leave," Dawn said.
"Oh." The machine looked downcast. "I miss him," she said, shuffling her feet.
"Well," Dawn glanced at Angel, gnawing on her lower lip. "Um, I guess we're going to make hot chocolate. Do you want to come with us?"
The Buffy-Bot brightened. "Sure! Can I do anything?"
"Just come into the kitchen," Dawn said, taking the machine by the arm.
Angel followed them both, shaking his head. Sometime, soon, he and Spike would have to settle this.
But for now, it could wait. For Dawn's sake.
And for Buffy's.
