I don't own BTVS or Angel, although I would probably sell my lil' sister for one or the other. I don't own the guys in this story, but I would buy them if they were up for grabs. Now that I think about it, I'll probably try some type of barter system, seeing as how my dad would probably not appreciate me putting a price tag on his youngest child. Anyway, Joss is crazily wonderful, I'm just crazy, and you guys are the bestest. Thank you for all the love! I can't get over how sweet you are. It keeps me going. Anyway, enough of this mush.

On with the show.

::The Dalliance of the Eagles- The Battle of Who Could Care Less::

"You're going to look like your pregnant if you keep eating like that." Lorne watched Spike put down another slice of pizza and shook his head.

Wesley rubbed his temples, trying to force the headache he was getting, away. "How many have you had, so far, Spike?"

"Two." Spike said around a mouthful of sauce and pepperoni.

"That's not so many Lorne." Wesley offered, as an argument for Spike's side.

"He's had two pizzas, not slices. He's eating out of depression and he needs to stop." Lorne smiled at the young man, lounging in his chair.

Wesley looked up, with a smirk. "Two whole pizzas? Are you sure he's *not* pregnant?"

"What? Angel starts having nightmares again and suddenly another vampire has to be pregnant? Well, not only is it not possible... it's not possible. Many different reasons why and I'm not going into it." Spike took another bite of pizza and groaned. He spit out an olive and sniffed. "Your pizza's getting mixed up with mine. Take that slice. I only got a bite." Spike put the piece back in the box and pushed it toward Wesley.

Wesley reached for the proffered slice and took a bite. "It's getting cold. You want me to warm it up?"

"No. It will give Angel another chance to try and come in. I wanna' play 'fort' a little while longer." Spike stood up and started to pace up and down the room, hands clinched behind his back. "You guys having fun?"

Wesley curled his upper lip and shook his head. "Not especially. I haven't played fort since I was three and my older brother was five. Come to think of it, I didn't have any fun then either. My brother was and is a real jerk. Mum came in and told us to clean up before our father whipped our hides for making a mess."

"Sounds like a real nice guy, that one." Spike laughed ruefully. "Didn't know my own dad, but I can relate on the whipping of the hide. Let's just say I made a lot of messes as a fledgling." Spike collapsed on the bed and sighed. "Stupid poof won't tell me what's got him all..."

Spike was cut off by a knock at the door and a voice reaching out to him from beyond it. "Spike, let me in."

"You bein' hacked up to bits by an unknown monster, who's out to kill me?" Spike asked, snidely.

"No." Angel banged his head against the door and sighed.

"Well, bugger all. Why don't you just die already?" Spike shook his head and walked over to the door. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to open it or not. Yes, he really wanted to stand his ground and not let Angel in, unless he decided to give in to his demands, but he also wanted Angel to be there with him; to reassure him that nothing was going to happen to them.

Spike knew that Angel was no longer standing outside the door. He stared at the wooden barricade he had placed between them. So many decisions. So many shades of gray. Spike looked back at Wesley and Lorne, who were whispering conspiratorially about Lorne's dream interpretations. Spike made his decision and slipped out the door, in search of his Sire. He shut the door behind him, quietly, and sniffed the air. I'm such a hypocrite, he decided, as he followed his Sire's scent.

He walked the hallways and made his way downstairs. He found Angel in the kitchen leaning over the sink, dishtowel draped over his left shoulder. "Your hands all prune-like, yet?"

Angel shook his head, but didn't turn toward his childe. "It's Penn. I'm sure you know it by now. That last night, with you-- William-- wasn't a dream, was it?"

"No, it was me. It was dishonest, I know, but you were being so..."

"I know. I don't hold it against you. I should have told you before. I just didn't know how to bring it up." Angel laughed, without an ounce of happiness in the sound. "I guess I really should have just blurt it out, when you asked me. Everything about Penn brings up guilt with me. Guilt about him dying. Guilt about being the cause, twice. He wants to tear apart the family, one by one. Darla's already gone, and Dru..." Angel turned toward Spike and leaned back against the counter. "I'm sorry Spike."

It took Spike a moment to find the meaning behind what Angel was not saying, but when it hit, it hit pretty hard. "She's dead?" Spike nodded, acceptingly. "I knew it would happen sometime and its not like we were still together, but..." Spike slumped down to the floor and buried his face in his hands. He hated crying, especially when someone was around, but the rush of emotion had a hold of him. Apparently, so did Angel. Spike leaned into the hug Angel had him trapped in and sobbed.

"I know. I felt it too. When he told me what happened, I felt the sense of loss. To lose a childe..." Angel gripped Spike to him and sighed. What could he say to make it better? Nothing. He had caused Dru so much pain in the past that he really had no room to talk, but what he had said so far seemed to make Spike stop crying.

"What he told you?" Spike pulled back from his Sire and looked him in the eyes. "You talked to Penn? I thought it was all images."

Angel sat back on his heals and nodded. "Not last night. After you left, he came into my head and we had a long talk. I think he may have lost whatever bit of sanity he had left."

"Well, Angelus, you know very well that every one of our bloodline is just a little crazy." Spike examined his nails and smirked. "I haven't painted my nails since I got here. All the paint has chipped off. These aren't my hands. These are William's hands. Think I should start writing again?" Spike smiled up at his Sire.

"No, I think we should send Wesley out to buy some black nail polish and you and I should spend a night drinking O-negative and watching Monty Python." Angel stood and pulled Spike with him. "How does that sound?"

Spike shrugged, as if it didn't make a difference. In all honesty, it made all the difference in the world. Angel cared about what was going on in Spike's head. He cared about what happened to their family and he was willing to take responsibility for it. "So, we gonna' start on the 'Holy Grail' or 'The Meaning of Life'?" Spike hated to admit it, but Angel was more of a role model now than Angelus had ever been to him, in the past.

"I think Wesley has the old 'Flying Circus' tapes, in his room." Angel walked over to the fridge and pulled out a couple of bags of blood. "I've sent Connor and Skittles away. I don't think Penn would be stupid enough to hit us right away. I'm not even sure if he's in town."

"He has to die." Spike said it as if he was stating the sky was blue. It was an absolute. Penn had to die.

Angel shook his head, as he put the bags of blood into the microwave. "I can't kill him Spike. He's my childe. I can kill him as easily as I could kill you." Angel turned around and caught Spike's disbelieving look. "Okay, a little easier than I could kill you, but not that much easier."

Spike shrugged. "I'll kill him. After I hurt him, real bad." Spike said it with a smirk. "I want to make him squeal."

Angel nodded and pulled his blood bag out of the microwave. "I can relate." He vamped out and ripped into the bag, sucking it dry.

Spike went over to the microwave and pushed Angel over to the side, so he could reach his bag. He looked at it and shook his head. "You eat. If you're going to save me from my deranged brother you need your strength. I'll go up and start the VCR." He placed the bag on the counter and headed upstairs.

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"Can I get you any thing else?" The girl was dressed as a stewardess. His skirt was a little short and her shirt's top two buttons were undone, but she still looked like a stewardess. "Sir?"

Penn looked down at the girls feet and grinned. She wore shoes that resembled that of what his mother would have worn, except they were attached to a pair of four-inch heals. "Yes, I could use a drink."

He smiled at the girl and lowered his glasses, so that he was gazing at her over the frames. She really was beautiful, in a natural sort of way. Soft, smooth skin and light brown hair, which was swept back in a high ponytail. Her lips were full and naturally pink. Roses bloomed in her cheeks and her eyes were a bright blue and fringed with dark lashes. They missed that keen sense of intelligence that he was looking for, but they still reminded him of... "Hmm."

"So what can I get you?" She asked with a grin. This customer was cuter than most of the guys who came in here. It wasn't exactly a cheap place, but the zoning sucked. It was right of the docks and only the bravest of the brave would consider stopping in for a drink. Her smile became brighter when the man lowered his glasses and peeked over the rims. He had such mesmerizing eyes.

"I'll have a bourbon." Penn placed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and grinned. The girl was already in love. Girls were so easy.

The girl walked over to the bar and gave the bartender his order. He watched he lean over the counter and smiled. She really should try to be less obvious, he thought to himself. You never knew when you were meeting up with the devil, after all.

The girl hurried back to Penn's side, drink in hand. "Here you are, sir."

"Thank you." He took the drink and sipped at it. "Go ahead and draw up my bill." Penn smiled at the girl's disappointment. He had a fan and he like the feeling it brought on. He watched he make her way to the cash register and sipped his drink, all the while. It tasted like Angel smelled: bittersweet, familiar. It was rich and velvety, while it burned like an ember. It was perfection. He sighed happily.

Everything was going to plan. He was getting into Angel's head and soon he could finish what he started. He could pull together their family, while ripping it to pieces. A paradox, he knew, but it was the most logical way to go about this. He wasn't like Spike. Spike was a creature of spite and love rolled into one. He always had been. Penn was a creature of habit and revenge.

Penn knew that the loss of Dru would be hard for Angel in a wounded pride, sort of way. Penn had destroyed something Angel had created. It wasn't a wound, so much as an insult, he decided. Spike, on the other hand, would hurt over it. Dru had been his princess; she had been his lover for over one hundred and twenty years and now she was gone.

Penn stood and laid down his empty glass. He made his way over to the bar and waited for a greeting by his waitress. She had a bill in her hand and a smile on her face. "I'll be getting off of work in ten minutes." She gave him a candid little smile and shuffled her feet.

He handed her a bill and smiled back. "Keep the change, princess." Penn turned and walked away from the sweet smiling waitress. He walked away from her suffocating perfume and her irritating naiveté. It took him two seconds to decide that the girl had to die. As trusting as she was, she'd probably ended up dying soon, anyway.

He stopped outside the front door and looked around. The sky was a deep violet color, the sea reflected in the clouds. The air was thick with the smell of fish and sweat. Penn took in everything about the docks. The men loading and unloading ships, strong muscle and sinew rippling beneath the bare skin of their torsos. Others were setting up booths that would open in the early morning, so that they could sell their catch. He could practically hear the blood rush through their systems. Strong men with strong blood.

"I didn't think you would wait for me." The voice was soft and sweet.

"I didn't mean to. I got caught up in the moment." Penn turned a teasing glance to the young woman. She had changed into a pair of khaki slacks and a black sleeveless turtleneck. To late, young lady, he thought, I've come to suck your blood. He grinned at her and offered her his arm. "My name is Penn."

"Really? I'm Pamela." She giggled like a little girl and sighed. "Two P's." They walked down the nearest alley and toward the main road.

"Yes." He agreed. "Two 'P's' in a pod, really." He looked down at the girl and frowned. She was *too* easy. He almost thought about letting her go. She was a child... but when did that pose a problem? "Where do you live? I'll walk you home."

The girl shook her head. "I want to go dancing. Do you dance?"

Penn grinned. "I wasn't allowed to, as a child and I never really took time to learn. I can sway, though. Will that do?"

She nodded. "That'll work. I'm sure that you look better swaying, than most guys look dancing. I would like to sway, with you." Her gripped tightened on Penn's arm and she shivered. "It's cold."

The girl was making it too easy for him. He reached around her and turned her, so that her back faced the brick wall. He pressed her up to it and leaned in to sniff her neck. "You smell sweet. Would you like me to warm you up?"

She giggled and pressed his head closer to her neck. " Please, do."

Penn took the chance to lean in and lap at her the skin that lay over her pulse. She sighed and slumped in his arms. He bit in, pulling a gasp out of the young woman. She went rigid and gripped at his shoulders. He pet her hair and purred as he took in slow droughts of her blood. She tasted like chocolate covered pennies, sweet and coppery. He lapped at the puncture wounds on her neck and smiled over the humming in his veins. She was dead, limp and lifeless. "I'm sorry, my dear. I seemed to make you even colder." Penn picked the girl up and cradled her to his chest. "But I do have to say, you swayed wonderfully."

Penn held the girl close and carried her to the main road. He pretended that it was giving him some trouble and stumbled out the curb. He propped her against a wall and called down a taxi. After getting her into the cab, he pushed the hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear.

"Got a stiff, huh? She pass out before your night on the town was through?" The cabbie grinned back at him and he couldn't help return the smile. "I get lots of people in that condition that come through here. So, where to?"

Penn thought a moment and shrugged. "I guess I should drop her off at home. Do you know where the Hyperion Hotel is?"

The cabby nodded and put the car into gear. "I'll have you there in a jiffy."

"Thank you." Penn said, as he settled back into his seat and enjoyed the ride.

TBC

Thank you for your reviews. Please don't stop now. I really love the praise. *g* You are the best, really. I hope I'm not disappointing any of you. This really is turning out differently than I even expected. It won't be so dark for long, of course. It's getting there that's the problem. Anyway, thank you for the patience. I've been on the road all weekend and this chapter was bubbling up in my mind the whole time. I'm just happy to get it written down.

-The sub-title is 'The Battle of Who Could Care Less' which is a song by the talented and hilarious group 'Ben Fold's Five'. They are amazing.-