Witches, Vampires and Invisible Men Part 4
Author: Tazzy (jellicalat1@yahoo.com
Rating NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em wish I did
Author's notes: See part 1 for rest
Silently, Hobbes made his way up the stairs after Angel and Darien. It wasn't that he distrusted Angel, but Darien was his partner and Bobby Hobbes never bails on his partner. Not even Darien who seemed to have a knack for getting into trouble more often than not, and it was usually Hobbes's skills combined with Darien's smarts that got them out again.
'Besides, I still don't trust this O'Shea guy,' he decided, grateful that the carpeting muffled his footsteps. He crept down the hallway and paused outside a door when he heard Darien's familiar voice coming from behind it.
"...And so I have to be careful or this thing in my head turns me into a red eyed psychopath." The tired voice was undoubtedly Darien's and it appeared that the man was still having trouble with the "need to know" aspect of his life. 'Fawkes, we still don't know why Chrysalis wants this guy and you decide to tell him the details of your life!' Drawing his gun, Hobbes twisted the doorknob and shoved the door open.
Darien sat on a neatly made bed while Angel stood nearby. Both looked at him startled until a familiar look of frustration settled on Darien's face. He often wore that look, especially during his early days at the Agency, but it had recently faded as Hobbes gained Darien's trust.
"What do you want, Hobbes?" inqured Darien. There was hostility in his voice that made the stocky man flinch slightly, but he returned Darien's glare with one of his own.
"I came up to make sure you're okay and I find you telling someone who does not have proper clearance about something that he doesn't need to know," stated Hobbes, tightening his grip slightly on his gun. He didn't want to shoot anyone, but he wouldn't hesitate if Angel made a wrong move.
Darien snorted in disgust. "Are you sure you weren't up here checking up on your loose cannon of a partner?" he inquired, mockingly. Hobbes looked at Darien, stunned. Never before had he heard that tone from Darien unless he was under the influence of quicksilver madness, and Darien's face crumpled. "Ah, I'm sorry, Hobbes. I don't know what's wrong with me right now, and this tingle in my head isn't helping matters any." He ran a hand over his face as if he was trying to rub his tiredness away and lay back on the bed.
Hobbes holstered his gun, discretely, as he approached the bed. "What tingle? Think something's wrong with the gland?"
"I dunno. Maybe I'm just tired," countered Darien, reluctance to discuss it clear in his voice. "Why don't you take the Big Bad vampire and let me get a little bit of rest."
"Fine, but if you start sleepwalking again, don't be surprised to wake up tied to the bed," warned Hobbes with a small smile. The last thing they needed was the gland taking Darien on a nocturnal stroll and then having to explain it to these people. Darien shooed Hobbes out of the room as he curled up on his side with his back facing the door, and Angel smiled slightly as he escorted the stocky agent from the room.
Hobbes glanced up at Angel to find his face a calm mask of indifference with haunted eyes. "So why does this law firm want you?" inquired Hobbes as the two stood in the hallway for a few minutes. "Or rather Angelus?"
Angel shook his head, indicating his lack of knowledge. "I have no idea," he confessed. "Especially since the last time Angelus got free, he nearly pulled the entire world into Hell." He tossed Hobbes a rueful smile. "Not exactly the kind of person you want on your side."
"Wait a minute," demanded the stocky man, grabbing Angel's arm and spinning him around to face him. "What do you mean 'the last time Angelus got free'? Is this kinda like a split personality thing going on here?"
"No," objected Angel, staring down at Hobbes. "When a human is turned, their body is taken over by a demon while their soul goes wherever it's suppose to go. The demon has all the human's memories and behavior to work with, but it twists them and uses that against friends and family of the human. Liam O'Shea was a drunk who probably slept with every woman in Galway, Ireland until one night when a blond woman lured him into an alley before turning him into Angelus O'Shea, part of the Scourge of Europe. A hundred years of killing, raping and pillaging later, Angelus eats a gypsy girl who happened to be the favorite of her tribe. For that, the gypsies cursed Angelus with the worst thing they could think of."
Hobbes snorted in disbelief. "What's that, tooth decay?"
If anything, the haunted look in those dark eyes grew. "They cursed him with a soul." The words were carried on a soft breath of air and Hobbes shivered with the horror and despair that shaded them. "What I didn't know was that a moment of true happiness would cause the soul to leave again. What was left was the demon, alone once more, but nearly a century of being buried under guilt twisted the demon." A bitter smile crossed Angel's face. "Oh, the terrorizing and the stalking was true to form, but he did things that he never would have done if he was sane."
No matter how sensible and reasonable Angel sounded, the story still played on Hobbes' mind like a fairy tale and the one thing Bobby Hobbes hated was being played for a fool. "Excuse me, Alice, but I think I've missed my turn-off for the Rabbit Hole."
As he watched, something passed over the handsome face, and Angel's whole body changed. He stood a bit straighter with his shoulders square, and minute lines in his face smoothed out as the haunted gaze was replaced by one that tempted and teased. A corner of his mouth rose into a smirk, and a dangerous air surrounded the larger man. "Actually, Mr. Hobbes, you're about to find out that you have just entered the Rabbit Hole and that Wonderland is really a Realm of Nightmares." Even his voice had changed. The constant guilt that had shaded his words had dropped away to be replaced by a throaty purr that tantalized and teased his ears, promising a multitude of sins that would undoubtedly lead to Hobbes' downfall but still telling him that he would enjoy the ride.
He collided with a solid surface and realized that Angel had somehow backed him into the wall without his knowledge. He looked up only to become trapped by the dark eyes that seemed flecked with gold, and couldn't look away, no matter what his instincts were screaming at him. This wasn't the same man who had rescued him from the monsters outside. This was a predator as dangerous and as deadly as a panther and just as predictable.
"I can take you apart and put you back together again to fit my purpose and you'll beg me to continue. I've turned the most pious of nuns into the cheapest of whores. I've convinced the innocent that they're children of Satan and had them begging me for forgiveness and absolution. I can twist your dreams to suit my nightmares and break you, body, mind and soul." It was getting hard to think with those words swirling through his head, and Hobbes felt the very air close in around him. His heart pounded in his ears and his pants felt incredibly tight, the large form in front of him radiating a seductive power that made him want more of.
Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, the power faded, leaving him panting for breath and blinking in stunned disbelief as Angel stepped back and spread his hands slightly. "I think you understand why letting Angelus loose on the world again is a very bad idea," he stated before turning and leaving the panting man leaning heavily against the wall.
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Spike glanced up the stairs as Angel descended, and he watched the older vampire carefully. Thanks to his supernatural senses, he had heard the conversation in the hallway 'If you can call a bloody seduction a conversation' and had to wonder just how close to the surface Angelus truly was. "Ya realize that the bloke's gonna hold a grudge, don't ya, Angelus?" inquired Spike as the dark vampire stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
"Possibly," murmured Angel as he regarded the peroxide blond with an unreadable gaze. "But with Wolfram and Hart stepping up their assault against me, I'll use anyone and anything at my disposal to stop them." Turning, he walked across the floor where Willow was sitting, discussing the spell she had found with Wesley, and Spike felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine. His Sire's plans were always interesting, especially when they involved taking down an enemy of the Clan's, and it looked like Angelus of the Order of Aurelius has declared war on Wolfram and Hart.
The sound of soft footfalls drew Spike out of his musings and he looked up as Hobbes stopped next to him, a cold mask hiding his emotions. "We're not human, despite how we look, mate," stated Spike, returning his gaze to Angel's large form where he was sitting next to Willow. "An' Angelus has always been a sadistical bastard. Especially when he decides to take out an enemy."
That got Hobbes' attention. "Enemy? What enemy?"
"Wolfram and Hart among others," came the reply. "Now, as far as Peaches is concerned, war has been declared and he will do anything to win." Deciding to end this conversation before he revealed something that could be used against him later, Spike crossed the floor and sprawled next to Willow on the couch, tossing a possessive arm across her shoulders while throwing a glare at Angel who was sitting too close to HIS redhead for his comfort. "So what's the plan?"
"Simple. Willow will perform the spell to secure my soul and then we hold a Council of War to brain storm on how to stop Wolfram and Hart once and for all," Angel announced in a calm voice, but Spike could hear the underlying lust for blood and violence that he had not heard in over a century. It made his fangs itch to feel flesh part under their razor sharp edges, and his demon must have been showing in his eyes because Angel placed a calming hand on his arm, soothing the demon and Spike's own bloodlust.
Spike nodded once. "What do you need me to do?"
"If the spell is disrupted for any reason, Angelus will be free, so you have to make sure that it's not disrupted," announced Willow, looking rather excited at the prospect of performing a spell this important. "The necessary components are rather common and Wesley probably has some so we can start the spell whenever you're ready."
"I'll make sure the kiddies know what's about to happen." With that, Spike stood up and collected Claire and Hobbes while Wesley went to fetch the needed items to begin the spell.
Claire looked around, slightly confused. "Excuse me, but what exactly is going on here?" she asked, her voice that terribly polite yet stuffy tone that only the British could pull off.
"It's like this, ducks," remarked Spike, slinging a companionable arm around her shoulders. "Red's gonna perform a spell that makes sure that the Great Poof stays the wanker he is. Our job is to make sure that no one and nothing interrupts her or my crazed sire gets loose and causes the next Apocalypse." He gazed down into her blue eyes. "Is that clear enough fer ya?" He glanced around and spotted Cordelia standing off to one side, trying to watch everything and store the information away for later like the Gossip Queen that she was. "Oi, Legs!" Spike's cry whipped the brunette's head around and she tossed him a glare that spoke volumes. A smirk crossed his face. This one would make an excellent partner to exchange stinging barbs with. "Do you know where Peaches has some chains?"
That got a delicate eyebrow raised in his direction. "Why? Thinking about getting kinky?" asked Cordelia, her voice as cold as steel.
Unable to help himself, Spike threw back his head and laughed, which earned him a darker glare. "No, but I was thinking that we could use them to tie Peaches up and torture him until he stops brooding." He grinned as her eyebrows tried to merge with her hairline. "Actually, I was thinking about using them on anyone who decided to disturb Red." A thoughtful look crossed Cordelia's face before she vanished behind the old reception desk. There was a clank of iron and she emerged with chains and manacles dangling from one hand and a sturdy padlock in the other.
"I figure that after the actress incident, it would be best if there were chains handy," she explained, walking over to a throw rug and kicking part of it back to reveal an iron ring imbedded in the marble flooring. "Besides, these are nice vamp-proof chains that cost us a bundle." With swiftness that startled Spike, she had the free end of the chain wrapped through the ring and locked, before standing up and dusting off her hands. Turning, she flashed the peroxide blond a smug smile and wandered back to the desk where she picked up a loaded crossbow.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Spike's neck stand on end just as soft words in a foreign tongue reach his ears. A quick glance over reveals Willow and Angel standing in a circle composed of crushed crystal and herbs. 'Looks like it's time for waiting', he muses, gesturing for Claire and Hobbes to spread out around the room. He stood near the stairs, thus sealing off the last possible way to approach the circle. Out of all of them gathered in the lobby save for Angel himself, Spike knows what's at stake if something should go wrong. And Willow would be the first victim of Angelus'. There was no way he would let that happen.
A soft sound pulled his attention away from the two figures in the middle of the lobby, and he looked up as Darien appeared at the top of the stairs, a curious expression on his face. Spike's instincts were telling him that there was something wrong here and the blond vampire carefully filtered through the mass of sounds that surrounded him until he managed to pin down what was bothering him: the slow and steady heartbeat of someone asleep.
As casually as possible, Spike wandered over to Hobbes' side and nudged the stocky man with his elbow. "Does your partner sleepwalk often?" he inquired, casually, when that glacial gaze was turned on him. A confused look crossed the other man's face and Spike nodded towards the lanky man who was slowly descending the stairs. "His body may be movin' but accordin' ta his heartbeat, he's asleep on his feet."
"Oh damn," whispered Hobbes before raising his voice slightly. "Hey Doc. Looks like the gland is going for a stroll again." Claire's head whipped around and a stream of colorful words spilled out of her mouth.
Darien stopped at the base of the stairs and cocked his head, as if studying the odd scene before him. "Strange. Never thought I'd see a wampyre guarding humans that don't bear his claim," remarked the lanky man in a soft voice that was husky with sleep. Spike was momentarily startled to hear the common demonic name for "vampire" slip past Darien's lips but shoved it to one side.
"And just what are you doing here?" inquired Spike, deliberately moving back to put himself between the sleeping man and Willow.
The silence in the lobby is only broken by the soft chanting and Spike watches as those cloudy brown eyes drift past his shoulder to focus on Willow. Suddenly, the handsome features twist into a mask of rage and his eyes snap back to focus on the blond vampire. "NO! You won't trap me again!" With that, Darien launched himself at Spike, obviously hoping to get past him and disrupt the spell, but Spike was expecting the break for freedom.
Instinctively, he grabbed onto the thin wrists and pain arced through his head. Despite whatever had been done to Darien, the chip still read him as human, thus punishing Spike for his rough handling of him. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Spike tightened his grip on Darien and struggled against the determined struggles. Silver began leaking out of the struggling man's pores as a cold metallic scent surrounded the blond vampire, bringing back days of torture in clammy basements and nights of pleasure. There were muffled curses from behind him and a scrambling of feet as Spike tried desperately to maneuver Darien over to the chains lying neatly coiled on the floor. As the silver enveloped Darien, the blond vampire wondered what was going on for a second before the sudden drop in temperature seared the skin on his hands at the same time Darien vanished from sight. Drawing on all of his experience, Spike ignored the cold that was creeping up his arms and the searing agony that was trying to melt his brain and wrapped himself around the invisible man before throwing both of them to the floor, making sure that he took the brunt of the fall with his immortal frame. He spared a second to glare at the immobile humans. "Will someone help me with this wanker?"
Claire scrambled for her bag and grabbed a pair of heavy gloves before tossing them over to Hobbes. The stocky man pulled them on as he approached the struggling vampire, pausing long enough to grab the manacles. Spike met Hobbes' gaze and nodded, indicating that he was ready for any move that the human was going to make, and Hobbes held up the manacles slightly, signaling his intentions. As the stocky man reached them, he stumbled as an invisible foot lashed out and connected with his legs and almost dropped the manacles. Shifting into his true face, Spike bared his fangs in a snarl and managed to wrestle Darien around so that the lanky man was laying face down on the marble floor with his arms twisted around behind his back and Spike resting his knees on each side of his hips.
"Think you can get him cuffed now?" demanded Spike, gritting his teeth as the pain in his head grew at his manhandling Darien. He didn't bother looking up as a pair of gloved hands entered his vision and he shifted his grip slightly to allow the iron bracelet to close around the invisible wrist with a satisfying click. Within seconds, the second manacle was around the other wrist and Spike staggered off of Darien's still invisible form before collapsing to the floor, cradling his aching head in his throbbing hands. Gentle, warm hands removed his from his head and soft gauze was wrapped around them. He was able to pry open his eyes to see Claire kneeling before him, expertly wrapping his hands and he looked down to see flesh turned white from frost.
"Darien's external temperature drops to 0 degrees Celsius or 14 degrees Farinheight when he turns invisible," stated Claire, her voice cool and professional as she finished bandaging one hand and scooped up the other. Within seconds, that too was wrapped in gauze, and she examined his face critically. "What else hurts?"
Spike snorted. "Don't thin you can help me with my other problem, ducks," he drawled, slowly standing up. He was pleased to note that the pain from that thrice cursed Initiative chip had faded to a dull ache and there was a soft sound like wind chimes from behind him. A glance over revealed Darien stretched out on the marble floor, his hands manacled behind his back, asleep once more. It took a few seconds for him to realize that the silence was all encompassing and that nagging feeling that he always associated with magic was gone. His eyes flew to the center of the lobby where Willow lay on the floor, apparently unconscious near the unmoving form of Angel. He had crossed the floor before anyone could stop him and he paused at the edge of the circle as the larger vampire began stirring slightly. As the dark figure pushed himself up into a sitting position in the circle, a single, hesitant word slipped past Spike's lips, full of questions that he couldn't voice.
"Angelus?"
Author: Tazzy (jellicalat1@yahoo.com
Rating NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em wish I did
Author's notes: See part 1 for rest
Silently, Hobbes made his way up the stairs after Angel and Darien. It wasn't that he distrusted Angel, but Darien was his partner and Bobby Hobbes never bails on his partner. Not even Darien who seemed to have a knack for getting into trouble more often than not, and it was usually Hobbes's skills combined with Darien's smarts that got them out again.
'Besides, I still don't trust this O'Shea guy,' he decided, grateful that the carpeting muffled his footsteps. He crept down the hallway and paused outside a door when he heard Darien's familiar voice coming from behind it.
"...And so I have to be careful or this thing in my head turns me into a red eyed psychopath." The tired voice was undoubtedly Darien's and it appeared that the man was still having trouble with the "need to know" aspect of his life. 'Fawkes, we still don't know why Chrysalis wants this guy and you decide to tell him the details of your life!' Drawing his gun, Hobbes twisted the doorknob and shoved the door open.
Darien sat on a neatly made bed while Angel stood nearby. Both looked at him startled until a familiar look of frustration settled on Darien's face. He often wore that look, especially during his early days at the Agency, but it had recently faded as Hobbes gained Darien's trust.
"What do you want, Hobbes?" inqured Darien. There was hostility in his voice that made the stocky man flinch slightly, but he returned Darien's glare with one of his own.
"I came up to make sure you're okay and I find you telling someone who does not have proper clearance about something that he doesn't need to know," stated Hobbes, tightening his grip slightly on his gun. He didn't want to shoot anyone, but he wouldn't hesitate if Angel made a wrong move.
Darien snorted in disgust. "Are you sure you weren't up here checking up on your loose cannon of a partner?" he inquired, mockingly. Hobbes looked at Darien, stunned. Never before had he heard that tone from Darien unless he was under the influence of quicksilver madness, and Darien's face crumpled. "Ah, I'm sorry, Hobbes. I don't know what's wrong with me right now, and this tingle in my head isn't helping matters any." He ran a hand over his face as if he was trying to rub his tiredness away and lay back on the bed.
Hobbes holstered his gun, discretely, as he approached the bed. "What tingle? Think something's wrong with the gland?"
"I dunno. Maybe I'm just tired," countered Darien, reluctance to discuss it clear in his voice. "Why don't you take the Big Bad vampire and let me get a little bit of rest."
"Fine, but if you start sleepwalking again, don't be surprised to wake up tied to the bed," warned Hobbes with a small smile. The last thing they needed was the gland taking Darien on a nocturnal stroll and then having to explain it to these people. Darien shooed Hobbes out of the room as he curled up on his side with his back facing the door, and Angel smiled slightly as he escorted the stocky agent from the room.
Hobbes glanced up at Angel to find his face a calm mask of indifference with haunted eyes. "So why does this law firm want you?" inquired Hobbes as the two stood in the hallway for a few minutes. "Or rather Angelus?"
Angel shook his head, indicating his lack of knowledge. "I have no idea," he confessed. "Especially since the last time Angelus got free, he nearly pulled the entire world into Hell." He tossed Hobbes a rueful smile. "Not exactly the kind of person you want on your side."
"Wait a minute," demanded the stocky man, grabbing Angel's arm and spinning him around to face him. "What do you mean 'the last time Angelus got free'? Is this kinda like a split personality thing going on here?"
"No," objected Angel, staring down at Hobbes. "When a human is turned, their body is taken over by a demon while their soul goes wherever it's suppose to go. The demon has all the human's memories and behavior to work with, but it twists them and uses that against friends and family of the human. Liam O'Shea was a drunk who probably slept with every woman in Galway, Ireland until one night when a blond woman lured him into an alley before turning him into Angelus O'Shea, part of the Scourge of Europe. A hundred years of killing, raping and pillaging later, Angelus eats a gypsy girl who happened to be the favorite of her tribe. For that, the gypsies cursed Angelus with the worst thing they could think of."
Hobbes snorted in disbelief. "What's that, tooth decay?"
If anything, the haunted look in those dark eyes grew. "They cursed him with a soul." The words were carried on a soft breath of air and Hobbes shivered with the horror and despair that shaded them. "What I didn't know was that a moment of true happiness would cause the soul to leave again. What was left was the demon, alone once more, but nearly a century of being buried under guilt twisted the demon." A bitter smile crossed Angel's face. "Oh, the terrorizing and the stalking was true to form, but he did things that he never would have done if he was sane."
No matter how sensible and reasonable Angel sounded, the story still played on Hobbes' mind like a fairy tale and the one thing Bobby Hobbes hated was being played for a fool. "Excuse me, Alice, but I think I've missed my turn-off for the Rabbit Hole."
As he watched, something passed over the handsome face, and Angel's whole body changed. He stood a bit straighter with his shoulders square, and minute lines in his face smoothed out as the haunted gaze was replaced by one that tempted and teased. A corner of his mouth rose into a smirk, and a dangerous air surrounded the larger man. "Actually, Mr. Hobbes, you're about to find out that you have just entered the Rabbit Hole and that Wonderland is really a Realm of Nightmares." Even his voice had changed. The constant guilt that had shaded his words had dropped away to be replaced by a throaty purr that tantalized and teased his ears, promising a multitude of sins that would undoubtedly lead to Hobbes' downfall but still telling him that he would enjoy the ride.
He collided with a solid surface and realized that Angel had somehow backed him into the wall without his knowledge. He looked up only to become trapped by the dark eyes that seemed flecked with gold, and couldn't look away, no matter what his instincts were screaming at him. This wasn't the same man who had rescued him from the monsters outside. This was a predator as dangerous and as deadly as a panther and just as predictable.
"I can take you apart and put you back together again to fit my purpose and you'll beg me to continue. I've turned the most pious of nuns into the cheapest of whores. I've convinced the innocent that they're children of Satan and had them begging me for forgiveness and absolution. I can twist your dreams to suit my nightmares and break you, body, mind and soul." It was getting hard to think with those words swirling through his head, and Hobbes felt the very air close in around him. His heart pounded in his ears and his pants felt incredibly tight, the large form in front of him radiating a seductive power that made him want more of.
Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, the power faded, leaving him panting for breath and blinking in stunned disbelief as Angel stepped back and spread his hands slightly. "I think you understand why letting Angelus loose on the world again is a very bad idea," he stated before turning and leaving the panting man leaning heavily against the wall.
*****************************************************************
Spike glanced up the stairs as Angel descended, and he watched the older vampire carefully. Thanks to his supernatural senses, he had heard the conversation in the hallway 'If you can call a bloody seduction a conversation' and had to wonder just how close to the surface Angelus truly was. "Ya realize that the bloke's gonna hold a grudge, don't ya, Angelus?" inquired Spike as the dark vampire stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
"Possibly," murmured Angel as he regarded the peroxide blond with an unreadable gaze. "But with Wolfram and Hart stepping up their assault against me, I'll use anyone and anything at my disposal to stop them." Turning, he walked across the floor where Willow was sitting, discussing the spell she had found with Wesley, and Spike felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine. His Sire's plans were always interesting, especially when they involved taking down an enemy of the Clan's, and it looked like Angelus of the Order of Aurelius has declared war on Wolfram and Hart.
The sound of soft footfalls drew Spike out of his musings and he looked up as Hobbes stopped next to him, a cold mask hiding his emotions. "We're not human, despite how we look, mate," stated Spike, returning his gaze to Angel's large form where he was sitting next to Willow. "An' Angelus has always been a sadistical bastard. Especially when he decides to take out an enemy."
That got Hobbes' attention. "Enemy? What enemy?"
"Wolfram and Hart among others," came the reply. "Now, as far as Peaches is concerned, war has been declared and he will do anything to win." Deciding to end this conversation before he revealed something that could be used against him later, Spike crossed the floor and sprawled next to Willow on the couch, tossing a possessive arm across her shoulders while throwing a glare at Angel who was sitting too close to HIS redhead for his comfort. "So what's the plan?"
"Simple. Willow will perform the spell to secure my soul and then we hold a Council of War to brain storm on how to stop Wolfram and Hart once and for all," Angel announced in a calm voice, but Spike could hear the underlying lust for blood and violence that he had not heard in over a century. It made his fangs itch to feel flesh part under their razor sharp edges, and his demon must have been showing in his eyes because Angel placed a calming hand on his arm, soothing the demon and Spike's own bloodlust.
Spike nodded once. "What do you need me to do?"
"If the spell is disrupted for any reason, Angelus will be free, so you have to make sure that it's not disrupted," announced Willow, looking rather excited at the prospect of performing a spell this important. "The necessary components are rather common and Wesley probably has some so we can start the spell whenever you're ready."
"I'll make sure the kiddies know what's about to happen." With that, Spike stood up and collected Claire and Hobbes while Wesley went to fetch the needed items to begin the spell.
Claire looked around, slightly confused. "Excuse me, but what exactly is going on here?" she asked, her voice that terribly polite yet stuffy tone that only the British could pull off.
"It's like this, ducks," remarked Spike, slinging a companionable arm around her shoulders. "Red's gonna perform a spell that makes sure that the Great Poof stays the wanker he is. Our job is to make sure that no one and nothing interrupts her or my crazed sire gets loose and causes the next Apocalypse." He gazed down into her blue eyes. "Is that clear enough fer ya?" He glanced around and spotted Cordelia standing off to one side, trying to watch everything and store the information away for later like the Gossip Queen that she was. "Oi, Legs!" Spike's cry whipped the brunette's head around and she tossed him a glare that spoke volumes. A smirk crossed his face. This one would make an excellent partner to exchange stinging barbs with. "Do you know where Peaches has some chains?"
That got a delicate eyebrow raised in his direction. "Why? Thinking about getting kinky?" asked Cordelia, her voice as cold as steel.
Unable to help himself, Spike threw back his head and laughed, which earned him a darker glare. "No, but I was thinking that we could use them to tie Peaches up and torture him until he stops brooding." He grinned as her eyebrows tried to merge with her hairline. "Actually, I was thinking about using them on anyone who decided to disturb Red." A thoughtful look crossed Cordelia's face before she vanished behind the old reception desk. There was a clank of iron and she emerged with chains and manacles dangling from one hand and a sturdy padlock in the other.
"I figure that after the actress incident, it would be best if there were chains handy," she explained, walking over to a throw rug and kicking part of it back to reveal an iron ring imbedded in the marble flooring. "Besides, these are nice vamp-proof chains that cost us a bundle." With swiftness that startled Spike, she had the free end of the chain wrapped through the ring and locked, before standing up and dusting off her hands. Turning, she flashed the peroxide blond a smug smile and wandered back to the desk where she picked up a loaded crossbow.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Spike's neck stand on end just as soft words in a foreign tongue reach his ears. A quick glance over reveals Willow and Angel standing in a circle composed of crushed crystal and herbs. 'Looks like it's time for waiting', he muses, gesturing for Claire and Hobbes to spread out around the room. He stood near the stairs, thus sealing off the last possible way to approach the circle. Out of all of them gathered in the lobby save for Angel himself, Spike knows what's at stake if something should go wrong. And Willow would be the first victim of Angelus'. There was no way he would let that happen.
A soft sound pulled his attention away from the two figures in the middle of the lobby, and he looked up as Darien appeared at the top of the stairs, a curious expression on his face. Spike's instincts were telling him that there was something wrong here and the blond vampire carefully filtered through the mass of sounds that surrounded him until he managed to pin down what was bothering him: the slow and steady heartbeat of someone asleep.
As casually as possible, Spike wandered over to Hobbes' side and nudged the stocky man with his elbow. "Does your partner sleepwalk often?" he inquired, casually, when that glacial gaze was turned on him. A confused look crossed the other man's face and Spike nodded towards the lanky man who was slowly descending the stairs. "His body may be movin' but accordin' ta his heartbeat, he's asleep on his feet."
"Oh damn," whispered Hobbes before raising his voice slightly. "Hey Doc. Looks like the gland is going for a stroll again." Claire's head whipped around and a stream of colorful words spilled out of her mouth.
Darien stopped at the base of the stairs and cocked his head, as if studying the odd scene before him. "Strange. Never thought I'd see a wampyre guarding humans that don't bear his claim," remarked the lanky man in a soft voice that was husky with sleep. Spike was momentarily startled to hear the common demonic name for "vampire" slip past Darien's lips but shoved it to one side.
"And just what are you doing here?" inquired Spike, deliberately moving back to put himself between the sleeping man and Willow.
The silence in the lobby is only broken by the soft chanting and Spike watches as those cloudy brown eyes drift past his shoulder to focus on Willow. Suddenly, the handsome features twist into a mask of rage and his eyes snap back to focus on the blond vampire. "NO! You won't trap me again!" With that, Darien launched himself at Spike, obviously hoping to get past him and disrupt the spell, but Spike was expecting the break for freedom.
Instinctively, he grabbed onto the thin wrists and pain arced through his head. Despite whatever had been done to Darien, the chip still read him as human, thus punishing Spike for his rough handling of him. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Spike tightened his grip on Darien and struggled against the determined struggles. Silver began leaking out of the struggling man's pores as a cold metallic scent surrounded the blond vampire, bringing back days of torture in clammy basements and nights of pleasure. There were muffled curses from behind him and a scrambling of feet as Spike tried desperately to maneuver Darien over to the chains lying neatly coiled on the floor. As the silver enveloped Darien, the blond vampire wondered what was going on for a second before the sudden drop in temperature seared the skin on his hands at the same time Darien vanished from sight. Drawing on all of his experience, Spike ignored the cold that was creeping up his arms and the searing agony that was trying to melt his brain and wrapped himself around the invisible man before throwing both of them to the floor, making sure that he took the brunt of the fall with his immortal frame. He spared a second to glare at the immobile humans. "Will someone help me with this wanker?"
Claire scrambled for her bag and grabbed a pair of heavy gloves before tossing them over to Hobbes. The stocky man pulled them on as he approached the struggling vampire, pausing long enough to grab the manacles. Spike met Hobbes' gaze and nodded, indicating that he was ready for any move that the human was going to make, and Hobbes held up the manacles slightly, signaling his intentions. As the stocky man reached them, he stumbled as an invisible foot lashed out and connected with his legs and almost dropped the manacles. Shifting into his true face, Spike bared his fangs in a snarl and managed to wrestle Darien around so that the lanky man was laying face down on the marble floor with his arms twisted around behind his back and Spike resting his knees on each side of his hips.
"Think you can get him cuffed now?" demanded Spike, gritting his teeth as the pain in his head grew at his manhandling Darien. He didn't bother looking up as a pair of gloved hands entered his vision and he shifted his grip slightly to allow the iron bracelet to close around the invisible wrist with a satisfying click. Within seconds, the second manacle was around the other wrist and Spike staggered off of Darien's still invisible form before collapsing to the floor, cradling his aching head in his throbbing hands. Gentle, warm hands removed his from his head and soft gauze was wrapped around them. He was able to pry open his eyes to see Claire kneeling before him, expertly wrapping his hands and he looked down to see flesh turned white from frost.
"Darien's external temperature drops to 0 degrees Celsius or 14 degrees Farinheight when he turns invisible," stated Claire, her voice cool and professional as she finished bandaging one hand and scooped up the other. Within seconds, that too was wrapped in gauze, and she examined his face critically. "What else hurts?"
Spike snorted. "Don't thin you can help me with my other problem, ducks," he drawled, slowly standing up. He was pleased to note that the pain from that thrice cursed Initiative chip had faded to a dull ache and there was a soft sound like wind chimes from behind him. A glance over revealed Darien stretched out on the marble floor, his hands manacled behind his back, asleep once more. It took a few seconds for him to realize that the silence was all encompassing and that nagging feeling that he always associated with magic was gone. His eyes flew to the center of the lobby where Willow lay on the floor, apparently unconscious near the unmoving form of Angel. He had crossed the floor before anyone could stop him and he paused at the edge of the circle as the larger vampire began stirring slightly. As the dark figure pushed himself up into a sitting position in the circle, a single, hesitant word slipped past Spike's lips, full of questions that he couldn't voice.
"Angelus?"
