Chapter Three: Angel for the Defense

"I thought the Oracles were dead," Angel said, as he ran a frustrated hand through his gel-laden hair. Suddenly the confines of his office seemed to be too much for him.

"Well, they were," Cordelia said, as she leaned back in the chair behind Angel's desk and watched him frantically pacing back and forth in front of her. "But you know, these things run in cycles. One pair of Oracles die, another is born. It's the way these things work. The Powers That Be can really do anything they want." She shrugged.

"So you think this will work?"

"I don't know." She pushed herself out of the chair and rounded the desk, standing directly in front of Angel, effectively putting a stop to his pacing. "Even if it does though, I'm not sure it's such a good idea."

"Right, well, as ideas go? It's the only one I've got."

Angel maneuvered around Cordelia and started searching through the items littered across his desk. He had to find something to give as an offering.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"No. But what choice do I have?" He put down a heavy, lead paperweight, and picked up a silver letter opener, thrusting it through the air like a sword. He shrugged and put it back down on the desk. "You were a higher being, what do higher beings like to be bribed with? Something shiny?"

"Here." She pulled a crystal orb from one of the book shelves. "It's not really shiny, but at least they can see their reflection in it. Who knows, maybe it'll be just the distraction you need to get them to grant this ridiculous request."

"It isn't ridiculous."

"Oh really? 'Cause, it's totally normal for you to want to go to The Powers and beg for the life of an evil, bloodsucking vampire, who stole your best girl?"

"She's not my best girl."

"Well, thank you for the compliment. But the point is Angel, how do you think this is going to work?"

"I don't know, exactly. I told you about the first time I went to see the Oracles, that time Buffy came and--"

"And you became mortal and time got erased, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I remember. Even if I don't remember, I remember you telling me about it."

"Well, when the Oracles discovered I was human, they questioned me. Asked if I had saved humanity or averted an Apocalypse."

"Which makes you think that The Powers might grant Spike his mortality if you go plead for his life."

"Something like that. Look, Cordy," he moved closer to her, putting his hands on her arms and leaning down to look her directly in the eyes. "I have to try this. It's been a week, and still nothing has gotten through to Buffy. I don't have much choice."

He let her go, and began absently fiddling with the mess on his desk.

"Are you sure you can deal with Spike being human?"

"I don't know if he'll be human. I don't know what kind of favor they can grant me. But I have to try. For Buffy's sake."

* * *

A few hours later, Angel felt that he was ready. Cordelia took him to the portal under the post office. The same place Doyle had brought him all those years ago.

"Just be careful, okay? Don't make any deals that sacrifice your life for Spike's. You got that?"

"Yeah, I got that."

"Good luck Angel," she said softly, before rising up on her toes to kiss him.

A small smile tugged at his lips. "See you in less than a second."

Cordelia tuned to the basin in front of her and sprinkled some magic herbs inside. Setting the scatterings aflame, she beseeched The Powers for entrance.

An instant later, the portal opened up, and Angel was able to step inside.

He found himself standing before the Oracles - a man and a woman, apparently twins, with gold and blue flesh and an otherworldly quality about them. They were dressed in ancient Roman garb, and their surroundings were austere to say the least.

"So, we meet again," the man said.

"Well . . . not really," Angel stammered. "I think I met your older siblings?"

"We are all the same. Time and space do not follow the same rules for us, as they do for lower beings. We have met before."

"All right. If you say so."

"What have you brought us, vampire?" the woman asked as she stepped down off the platform she was standing on and moved closer to him.

"Uh, this," he said, pulling the orb from behind his back and presenting it before her.

She levitated the orb off his palm and floated it through the air, into her own. She raised it to eye level, and examined it curiously. "Pretty," she said, "if a bit useless." She shrugged and turned her attention back to Angel. "For what purpose do you seek us out?"

Angle pushed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and took a step forward. "There is a vampire, Spike. He died in battle, defending the earth against The First. I've come to ask for his life back."

"And I thought only mortals were that foolish," the man said as he turned to his sister and laughed. "Do you really think we can be bothered with such things?" he asked Angel.

"I don't see why not. When I came to you years ago, you gave me the impression that a vampire could be turned mortal if he had proven himself, averted an Apocalypse, fought for a noble cause."

"But your friend died during the battle," the woman interjected. "He did not avert the Apocalypse at all. Others did that."

"Okay, first," Angel said, "he's not my friend. And second, everyone who fought in that battle helped avert the Apocalypse. He died for the cause."

"Interesting." The female Oracle stepped closer and began circling around Angel, eyeing him curiously. Finally she stopped in front of him. "You say this vampire was not your friend, but you come to plead for his life. Why?"

"Because, he died for a noble cause."

"Wrong," the male twin said as he joined them on the floor. "You do it for her. You do everything for her."

"All right, so, yeah." He shrugged. "Look, we need her, and apparently she needs him. It's all I can do."

"But you love her," the woman said as she raised her hand and lovingly caressed the air around Angel, as if trying to caress his cheek. "Why would you willingly give her to another man?"

"Because she loves him, and I don't have much choice."

"You always have a choice," her brother said.

"Not in this case."

"Very well then." The woman turned and ascended the two steps to the platform where she had started.

Her brother followed.

"Convince us."

"Beg your pardon?" Angel asked.

"Convince us to resurrect this lowly vampire, to petition The Powers That Be for his life."

"Okay." Angel racked his brain, searching for anything to say in Spike's defense. It wasn't that Spike hadn't done some good during his time on earth, but Angel had always willingly ignored those rare anomalies. "Well, he . . ." Angel took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself. He didn't like talking about the whole soul business, but it was all he could come up with. "He got his soul back, for Buffy. He sought it out on his own. So she could love him."

"And you think this is noble?" the woman asked.

"Isn't it? A vampire with a soul? Even the Gypsies knew that was a curse. Spike went ahead and sought it out anyway."

"And do you know why?" the man asked.

"Because he wanted Buffy to be able to love him."

"No. Because he wanted Buffy to be able to forgive him."

"Forgive him for what?"

"You don't know?" The girl looked surprised, her face contorting with dread and concern.

"Know what?" Angel laughed.

"What he did, that she had to forgive him for?"

Angel shook his head absently. "Killing hundreds and hundreds of people? Being an unbelievable pain in the ass?"

The twins turned their heads in unison and looked at each other. They seemed to be communicating silently. Finally the man turned to Angel and asked, "Would you like to see what your noble vampire has done?"

Angel felt his chest tighten. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he couldn't refuse them their offer. "All right. But if it is just a century of bloodshed, remember, I was there for most of it. You can just stick with the highlights."

"Look, and see," the woman said, as she raised her hand and a shimmery image appeared before them.

Angel turned to where she had directed. Slowly, the wavy image came into focus.

It was Buffy. She was in her bathroom, getting ready to take a bath. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she was wearing a light gray bathrobe. She seemed to be in some sort of pain.

Angel's chest tightened. Why the hell were they showing him this? What did it have to do with Spike?

A moment later the door opened, and Spike stepped inside. "Are you hurt? You're not moving so well," he said, as he closed the door behind him.

"Get out," Buffy said, turning to look at him. There was a definite hardness in her voice.

Angel clenched his fists. He didn't like where this was going. Buffy was injured. And what the hell was Spike doing in her bathroom?!

Angel watched their exchange with palpable anxiety.

They argued, back and forth. Buffy made some reference to Spike sleeping with Anya.

That was news, but was it really unforgivable?

And then Buffy declared that she could never love him, and Spike made his move.

Slyly, he made his way toward Buffy. He pulled her to him and began touching her, trying to kiss her. Trying to convince her to let herself love him.

Buffy began to struggle.

Angel could feel every muscle in his body tighten. The borrowed blood felt like it was pounding through his veins. He took a step forward, toward the floating image, intent on rescuing her, when a knowing voice stopped him.

"There's nothing you can do for her," the female Oracle said. "This is in the past. Just watch."

Angel steeled his nerves, trying desperately not to let his anger show, not to scream at the mirage hovering before him.

Spike pushed Buffy to the floor, her back hitting the side of the tub with a sickening "thud."

It turned Angel's stomach.

And still, Spike didn't seem to care or notice that he was hurting Buffy.

This . . . this was the man - the thing? - that Buffy had chosen to spend her life with? Angel was appalled! How had she been able to chose Spike even after this horrifying display of rabid beastliness?

Angel continued to watch in horror.

Spike pinned Buffy to the floor. She was pleading now, desperately begging him to stop, to let her go. But he wouldn't.

Angel didn't think he could stand to see the final outcome. He tore his eyes away and stared blankly at the floor.

"I don't want to see anymore of this. Make it stop."

"Are you sure?" the woman asked. "Don't you want to see how it ends?"

"I don't need to see how it ends."

"Very well," she said, as she raised her hand to wave the offending image away.

"Wait!" Angel looked up at her. He had to know. It looked bad, very bad. But without seeing it through there was no way to know what had actually happened. Buffy was in no state to tell him, and Spike . . . well Spike had taken it with him to his very dusty end. Angel had to know, even if it meant suffering through the torment of watching Spike violate the woman they both claimed to love.

"I want to see it. Show me the end."

"Are you certain?"

"Just get it over with."

The Oracle simply shrugged and restarted the scene, beginning it from the exact second Angel had turned away.

There was more struggling.

"I know you felt it. . . . when I was inside you . . ." Spike said, as he stared down at her, his eyes crazed and vicious.

"Don't . . . please, please Spike. Please don't do this. Please don't do this," she pleaded.

"You'll feel it again, Buffy. I'm gonna make you feel it." Spike ripped her robe and moved to make good on his threat

"Stop!"

That single word, followed by a loud crash.

Angel caught an unneeded breath.

Buffy had pushed Spike off of her. He had landed in a heap on the other side of the room.

Buffy dragged herself up from the floor and pulled her robe closed protectively. "Ask me again why I could never love you!"

And there the image stopped. The mirage disappeared and the room was suddenly silent.

For a long time Angel couldn't move. Even though the image had been removed from his sight, he could still see the horror being replayed before his eyes. Over and over again. Spike had tried to rape Buffy. Oh God. Angel felt like he was going to fall through the floor.

"Do you still wish to defend the vampire?" the male Oracle asked, as he watched Angel intently.

Slowly, Angel turned to look at the two loftier-than-thou higher beings. There was a quiet rage burning behind his eyes.

"Why did you show me this?"

"You had to see," the girl said, as she descended a single step closer to him. "You had to know what you were fighting for. Who you were defending."

"And now that you do, I ask you again. Do you still wish to defend the vampire?"

Angel gritted his teeth and tried to think. His gut instinct was to say "no," to tell them to let Spike rot in hell for all eternity. But he knew better than that. That's just what they were expecting, just what the Oracles and The Powers wanted.

Angel steadied himself, and tried to sort through the turmoil in his head. Spike had obviously not succeeded in raping Buffy, and Buffy had obviously managed to forgive him. But was it enough? If Angel had his way he would let Spike burn, but could he do that to Buffy? What good would she be to any of them if she never snapped out of the fog she was in? There would be time for questions and repercussions later. Angel knew what he had to do.

Taking a hard, shuddering breath he said, "Yes."

"Even knowing what he has done?" the man asked, not bothering to mask the amazement in his voice.

"Yes."

"You love her that much?" the girl said, as she descended another step and searched Angel's eyes, obviously fascinated.

"I want her back. Among the living," he said, a hard edge to his voice. "What . . . he . . . has done, is in the past. Buffy forgave him. Who am I to hold a grudge against him?"

"But you do."

"But that doesn't matter. We need her, and if bringing back Spike is the only way to reach her, then so be it."

"You speak well for her character, but what of the vampire?" the brother questioned.

"You still want me to defend him?"

"That is why you're here."

"Fine." Angel looked about the room, his eyes narrowed with thinly veiled rage, searching for something to say in Spike's defense. There was only one thing he could say. "Buffy loves him. Loves him more than she loved me. What better defense can I offer than that?"

"You truly are a higher being," the woman chimed, as she gazed at him in obvious awe and appreciation. "We shall see what we can do." She turned and joined her brother on the top step.

"And Spike?" Angel asked. "Will he be a vampire or a mortal?"

"Which would you prefer?" the man asked.

"Oh. I don't know. Whatever's better for Buffy, I guess."

"Granted," the female Oracle said. She raised a gold and blue shimmering hand in the air and pointed toward the doorway, "Goodbye, noble vampire."

Angel knew better than to stay once he had been dismissed. He turned and made his way back through the portal. He felt his limbs starting to tremble, his mind humming with a dizzying haze, all the anger and frustration of the past few minutes finally catching up with him. His insides were roiling, his mind a tumult of conflicting emotion. He just hoped he had done the right thing.