I don't own Angel or BTVS. I don't own any of these guys. (And yes, I know that the only girl in my story was an insignificant character. Even the cat is male. *sigh* What can I say? I've never been pulled onto the Girl Power bandwagon. Plus, guys are fun to write.) Anyway, if Joss were Mega Ultra Man, I would be Itty Bitty Gal, his goofy fan girl. I know that name sucks, but what can I do about it? I've been looking at DC comics and the costumes have wowed me so much that the idiotic names don't matter anymore. Hmm... Anyway, I apologize to any of you, who do not like the way this story is going. There were a million and one directions I could have taken this story in and I picked one out of a hat. You are looking at direction 578, thank you so much. So...

On with the show.

::The Dalliance of the Eagles- Dust in the Wind::

So the nightmare began.

Darkness was creeping along the walls. The door was closing slowly, making the light in the room shrink away, back to its home in the hallway. It didn't really matter; Angel's eyesight was just as good in the dark as it was in the light. He looked around the room, hoping that he would be alone. Finally, alone. He had no such luck.

'Angelus? You are still in bed. Shouldn't you be out fighting crime?' The voice. That beautiful, horrible voice.

Why was there a voice? He hadn't talked to him before. 'What are you doing here?' Angel threw his legs over the bed and searches the darkness for the face of his tormentor.

'Maybe I'm getting back at my father.' The hurt was evident; the scorn was scalding. 'I've been doing it for two hundred years. Why stop now?' All of their bloodline carried the same pout.

Angel shook his head. So his words had come back to haunt him, again. 'I should have never said that.'

'Don't apologize now, Sire. I don't want your apologies.' It was a hiss. Not exactly a Viper's call, but a hiss all the same. 'What are you thinking?'

The voice drew nearer and Angel could make out the figure of his childe. 'I'm not sure what to think.'

'Would you like to look at me. You know who I am, but you have yet to see my face.' Angel grabbed his cheek, when he felt a puff of cool air hit his face. 'You've felt my presence, figuratively and now, literally speaking, as well.' Angel waited, as his childe stalked behind him and slipped his arms around his waist. A low rumbling purr came from the chest, pressed against his back. 'I hated dying.' The hug became an uncomfortable vice- like grip. 'You want to know why?'

Angel didn't know what to do. Everything in him said to fight. His demon, his soul said to protect himself, but the small part of him that was human said no. He didn't want to make Penn think he felt any ill will toward him. This dream was different than the rest, if this was a dream. Angel truly wasn't sure. It definitely felt real, but so had all the others. 'Why, my boy?' Angel felt Penn's face press against the back of his shoulder and nuzzle.

'It made me miss you. I didn't want to miss you.' Penn let his grip loosen and finally, let his hands fall to his sides. In a short moment, he was across the room and flipping the light switch. 'You betrayed us all.' Penn smiled sweetly at his Sire. He swayed over to the mussed up bed and sat on the corner. 'Why?'

Penn was asking questions? He really wanted to know what had happened, what had made the change?

'I caught you off guard? Good. That seems to be something I couldn't have done before I died. Maybe death was all that could remedy it. You never thought that I would actually turn to dust. Did you, Angelus? You thought that I would outlive the great Methuselah. I would grow old, get bat ears, and live forever as a master vampire, like you. Except... It's all changed.' Penn looked down at his lap, solemnly. 'You don't plan to grow old, anymore.' Penn looked back up to his Sire and grinned. 'You don't have to explain the gypsies to me. I know.'

Angel fought the urge to cringe at Penn's tone of voice. He had done something horrible and he wanted Angel to guess. It was an old game from the past that Angelus had found amusing. Angel did not. Penn, on the other hand, was bouncing up and down on the edge of Angel's bed, like a happy child waiting for his bedtime story. Angel wondered if death had taken the rest of Penn's sanity away from him.

'Naughty Sire. Brooding over a childe long lost. Can you not read my mind, any longer? Is the blood so faint between us?' Penn stood up and closed the space between him and Angel. 'Would you like to refresh it?' Penn turned his head to the side, displaying the creamy, white column of flesh.

Angel took a step backwards. Penn was offering his blood? A sign of submission was for the tormented, not the tormentor. Penn was playing another game. He had to be.

'No, then?' Penn stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged, nonchalantly. 'If William offered, you wouldn't reject him.' It wasn't a question; it was a statement. 'Would you reject Darla, knowing the last thing she did was sacrifice herself for your child?' Angel was taken back. Penn knew about... 'Yes, I know about Connor. I know about your horribly tormented soul and about how William the Bloody, my dear brother, has been welcomed back into the fold of your loving care. I also know something you don't know. You don't want to guess, do you?"

Angel shook his head. Of course he didn't want to guess. Why prolong the aching in his gut? Could the dead get stomach ulcers? No, probably not.

'Dru is dead, again. First, by you. Now, by me. Don't worry, Angelus. I don't want to punish you. I want to be you.' Penn was being wistful and Angel couldn't stand it any more. He picked Penn up off of his feet and hurled him at the headboard of his bed. Penn's body lay limp, on the mattress. 'You do know this is a dream, right?' Penn turned his head and smiled at his Sire. 'You can't hurt me.'

'That's where you are wrong, boyo. I can hurt you just a readily, as you can hurt me. What? A bit of an Irish lilt and you become weak in the knees? What type o' woman are you then, Penn? A Puritan tramp is what you are. It's all you ever were. A houseboy, until I could find someone to take good enough care of Dru, so's I could leave with me own Sire. You are a dirty, filthy, little scamp of a thing. That's all you were ever meant to be. Your earthly father knew it, just as I know it now.'

Penn's face grew dark, as Angel went on. He was hearing all of his thoughts and fears, played back to him in the form of his Sire. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He wasn't supposed to care, anymore. Before he knew what was happening, he had jumped back up to his feet. 'And what are you? A giant bully of a man. That's all you ever were, wasn't it? The bumbling drunk, chaser of skirts, man's man? Not much changes when you lose your soul. Eh, Angelus? You still liked your alcohol Irish, your women pliable, and your men half-crazed. As a matter of fact, you liked your women half- crazed, too. So, did gaining a soul make you all that different? Do you still like Irish liquor, flexible young women, and young men who push all of the right buttons?" Penn was standing face to face with his Sire. If his heart could beat, he knew it would be racing. 'Am I pushing the right buttons?'

Angel backhanded Penn, knocking his head to the side. Blood trickled down his childe's face, from the upturned corner of his mouth. 'Yes.' Penn's face turned, facing Angel head on. 'You want to be me?' Angel mentally kicked himself. He was *not* going to feel any small amount of pride over this.

Penn shrugged. 'I don't want a soul. As a matter of fact, I don't want a son. I do want what you have, however. I want my family back. It is said that you can torture a demon out of a man. Can you torture a soul out of a demon?'

'I'm too strong for you.' Angel smirked, menacingly at his childe. 'You won't get the chance to find out.'

'Oh, tsk tsk, Sire. You are so vain. Like I would really torture you. I am a bigger fan of The Lore, than that. You don't torture your Sire, unless they order you to.' Penn said with a smile. 'It's intrinsic. You trained me well, Angelus.' Penn gave a mock sigh and sat back down on the bed corner. 'It has been rumored, though, that another vampire other than you carries a soul. Now, how is that for luck? Of course, I don't believe in luck. That was also inbred, into me. I have to do this, you know. All of it. Dru, Spike... All of it.' Penn stared off into a dark corner, a minute and then shook his head, as if shaking off a bad thought.

'Why, Penn?' Angel didn't really want to know why, but Penn would stick around, until he asked all the right questions.

'I love you.' Penn said it with so much sincerity, that Angel almost felt compelled to believe him. Of course, that was crazy. ' I can see your thoughts written across your face, as if you had it written there in bold print. What's wrong, Sire? You can't take a little sibling rivalry? I never said I would hurt *the boy*. I'm only interested in William. We have some things to settle.'

'That's not what I meant.' Angel stood over his childe and reached down to pet his head. It seemed almost loving, until he grabbed a handful of short- cropped hair and hauled him to his feet. He stared into his childe's eyes, searchingly. 'Since your being so cryptic I'll ask one question at a time. Dru?'

'Does that even count as a question? A mono-syllabic word doesn't even begin to explain...' The grip tightened and Penn winced. '...the direction that your thought process is taking.'

'Penn, I thought I couldn't hurt you. Your cringing.' Angel yanked Penn's head back and laughed at the gasp he received.

'I never thought you would try.' Penn didn't even try lying to his Sire. He knew that Angel would see right through it. 'Umm... I guess you want me to tell you about Dru. Okay, I found Dru in Costa Rica. She was living in a cave under a waterfall. It was made up like a palace. Apparently, she had a small following, taking care of her needs. The following would be vampires, of course. They called her... Mother. She always wanted children.' Angel let his hold, of Penn, go and he took a halting step backward. 'I killed them, of course. I like to pride myself on the look that Dru had on her face, when she realized they were all dust. She whimpered about daddy not loving her, setting her on fire, taking grand-mum away, and her darling boy, being taken over by a Slayer. I walked in and held her, until she stopped shivering. She looked up at me and squealed her delight. I stayed until I drained her of all she had to offer.' Penn smiled in remembrance. 'Then, I left her for the sun.'

'And you really think she's dead. You are a stupid childe. She's strong and crafty. Being crazy has nothing to do with a creature's will for survival.' Angel shook his head, a look of condescension written across his face.

'She's dead. I tried visiting her in her dreams. The air was blank.'

'Maybe she's too weak to dream or maybe she doesn't sleep with her eyes closed. It's hard for your head to paint pictures, without a canvas to paint them on.'

Angel was being so calm, that it started to worry Penn. What if Angel was right? Wasn't Angel always right? No. It wasn't right for Angel to allow a human to kill one of his children. Then, for him to not take any sort of revenge? That was adding insult to injury, by far. 'Don't you even want to know how I'm back?'

'Not particularly.' Angel smiled sweetly.

Okay, now that hurt. 'Maybe William would be interested. If he ever slept, I could ask him. He spends his nights keeping an eye on you. Well, wait a minute. I don't have to wait for him to sleep. Do I?' Penn stretched his arms. 'I'm starting to feel pretty strong. How do I look?' Penn stood up and turned a complete circle.

Angel almost couldn't help the urge to affirm his childe's opinion. Penn looked stronger now, than he had the last time he saw him. Of course, last time they had been pinned together by a stake and Penn had turned into dust. 'The cut at your mouth has healed.'

Penn smiled knowingly. 'Your face tells me, what your mouth refuses to say. No matter, Sire. I know how you are when it comes to such touchy subjects. I think I'll leave you now. You're starting to get broody again. You're more fun when you're pummeling me.' Penn shrugged and made his way to the door. 'It was fun.'

No it wasn't, Angel thought, as he watched his childe slip out the door.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The knock at the door jarred Angel from his sleep. He shot up in bed and threw the covers off of himself, before he could get tangled in them. Angel didn't take the time to wonder when he had pulled covers on or when he had slipped off his boots. He didn't even wait for the headache he had, to die down before stumbling to the door and slinging it open. "What?!"

Connor jumped back, when he saw Angel in the doorway. The kitten howled and clawed at the dark figure. "What's the matter? You're all fangs." Connor sniffed the air. Sweat, fear, and something else. "Having dreams?"

Angel nodded and turned away from his son. Think happy thoughts, he thought to himself, as he slipped out of game-face. He turned back to Connor and, automatically focused on the kitten. "He smells like blood."

Connor shook his head. "Not him. It's this." He held up the dead rat he had been holding and handed it to his father. "It was clinched in Skit's teeth. He was hiding under a bed, with it. I think he was afraid."

Angel looked the rat over and closed his eyes. The cross carved on its belly and the missing head... It couldn't even be warranted as a warning. It was more of a promise of things to come. "He's been here, in the hotel."

"Who?" Connor asked, while gripping his kitten tightly. The poor thing was about to have an aneurysm. It seriously looked like the animal was trying to crawl out of its skin.

"Connor, I want you to leave for a while. Do you think you could stay with Fred and Cordelia, for a while. I know they wouldn't mind. I don't want you to be here, for what may happen in the next few days." Connor started to protest, so Angel pulled the trump card. "Take Skittles away from here. He'll get hurt."

Connor looked down at his kitty and nodded. What if that rat had been Skittles? He would have died a little inside, if anything had happened to the kitten. "I'll take him away but if you need my help, call me."

Angel agreed that he would and pulled Connor into, a slightly awkward hug.

"Angel, I think I should stay." Connor was worried about his dad. Angel never pulled him into hugs. "And we're squishing Skittles." Connor stepped back, out of his father's arms and looked down at the puffy kitten.

"No, you go on." Angel ruffled the cat's head, which pulled a growl out of the little guy. "We'll be okay."

"All right." Connor turned and sighed. "But I'll only be a few blocks away, if you need anymore muscle."

"I know, and Connor... I love you, too." Angel smiled at his son, as he walked down the hall, toward his room. He would probably call the girls and pack an overnight bag, before he left. Smart boy, Angel decided, with pride

"Well, I guess I should look for Spike." Angel went to the stairs and headed up. He was sniffing out Spike, which was off limits, according to Spike, but Angel didn't care. He ended up in front of Lorne's doorway and knocked. "Can I come in?"

"Are you gonna' tell me what the hell is going on?" Spike yelled from the other side of the door.

"Will you let me in if I say I will?" Angel leaned his head against the wood and sighed.

"Yes. Move your big Neanderthal sized forehead away from the door, before you tumble, on your way in." Angel took a step back and Spike opened the door. "So, you going to tell me what's up?"

"No." Angel smirked, when the door slammed in his face. This was going to be a long night.

TBC

(Okay, first off, thank you for the lovely reviews. I love you guys, so much. Secondly, I didn't get to see the BTVS finale until last night (Wednesday, I had mommy dearest tape it for me) and I was so, so upset. I was planning on finishing this chap. last night, but I lost the will. Then, I gained it back today after reading a couple of really sweet reviews. Oh, and I hope Penn isn't disappointing you, cause he's really looking for approval. Poor guy. I can't help but love him.)

-The sub-title 'Dust in the Wind' is a wonderful song by the exceptional band Kansas. I love them!--

--Skittles is based on my cousin's cat Nicolae a.k.a. 'Nicky'. He's a rascal, to say the least. My cat is lethargic and an absolute sweet heart.--