As it turned out, Angel could not do mashed potatoes. Willow had pondered
that factoid in the supermarket, and then changed her mind altogether.
Steak took too long and she was so very hungry.
Angel had suggested omelets, and she'd found out he could do those very well. She was cleaning up after her meal--two helpings--while the vampires went in to feed Dev. They'd all imbibed more than a packet of blood each, Angel calmly asking her if she had wanted them to leave the room since she was eating.
Willow had shrugged. "Spike stayed at Giles' for a while," she'd said, unconcerned. "We all got used to it."
Spike and Angel came back into the living room, both looking paler than they had before they'd eaten, and more blood was prepared. Spike brought several large mugs in to Drusilla, who was sitting with Dev. When he returned, Willow grabbed a can of soda from the fridge, and stopped him when he would have gone upstairs.
"Spike." He paused by the lift. "We all need to talk."
Angel ran his hands through his hair and took a seat on the couch. Spike sat on a chair. Willow picked up her lap top case from the floor by the bedroom door and studied the vampires' positions. She decided her best bet was to be situated so that she could see both their faces, and opted for sitting cross-legged on the floor. Dragging the coffee table over to her, she unpacked her laptop and set it up, opening a blank word processor document.
"So," she said easily. "I'm rested and fed. I think we should start at the beginning."
Neither vampire said anything. Angel was gripping the arm of the sofa like it was trying to get away from him, and Spike was staring up at the ceiling like it was showing a movie. Willow sighed, already frustrated. Okay, she knew it wasn't easy for them, but how did they expect her to accomplish anything if she didn't know anything?
"Angel," she said calmly, adjusting the laptop screen. "Tell me about Dev's arrival." A ripping noise. His fingers had torn through the sofa fabric. Better and better. "Angel!"
His eyes lifted from the floor and focused on her. "Cordy and I were down here," he said without inflection. "There was a noise at the sewer grate. I opened it. Dev was there."
Dutifully, Willow typed his words. "And this was on Thursday?" Angel nodded curtly. "And what time was that?"
"Just before dawn."
Willow took a breath and tried to calm herself. Getting angry would just make the situation worse. She was going to have to do it the way Angel wanted, and pull every single detail out of him with pointed questions. It was going to make it worse on him, but he didn't seem to notice.
"Did she say anything?" Willow prodded.
A long pause. "Sire."
"Sire?" Willow echoed, her brow furrowing. "Is that what she normally calls you?"
"No."
"Then why did she call you sire when she saw you?"
"Because she could tell I didn't recognize her."
"We're done," Spike snarled, jumping to his feet.
He was standing above her, his game face on and his fists clenched at his side. Willow looked at Angel, saw that he was too distracted to notice or care, and she stood up.
"If you think I'm getting a kick out of this, you're wrong," she said quickly, trying to forestall a "spot of violence" as Spike called it. "The two of you hear some vision that Drusilla had and drag me out here. Fine. You tell me that you want me to help you figure out what happened, why it happened, and who might have done it. Fine."
Willow stepped back from Spike and glared at the two of them. Angel was still in la la land, and Willow strode quickly to him, snapping her fingers in his face. He blinked owlishly and stared at her. "Explain to me, both of you, how I'm supposed to do either of those things in my current state of ignorance," she tossed out archly.
Angel was on his feet now. "You don't need every detail," he said flatly.
"Really?" Willow asked innocently. "Interesting. Tell me, then, what Dru's vision says I should do."
"How the fuck should we know," Spike exploded. "She can't talk right and we can't understand her babbling."
"All right," Willow replied smoothly. She folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot. "Then why don't you tell me what to do to find out the information you need? Step by step. You know, so I can do it."
Angel had already grasped her point, and sat down heavily. It took Spike an extra moment or two. "Bloody hell," he muttered, game face slipping off.
Smiling gently, Willow sat in front of her laptop again. "I want to help," she told them softly. "And I know it's hard, but it's necessary."
"All right," Angel whispered.
"Spike?" Willow asked. "You with me?"
"Yeah, pet, I'm with you," he mumbled, sitting again, this time on the sofa with Angel. On the opposite side of it, but still on the same sofa.
"Angel, am I going to have to ask a jillion questions?"
"No, I'll tell you."
"Then go ahead."
"Her face was a mess," he began tonelessly. "Even her voice was off. But when she said sire, I knew that it had to be her. Drusilla calls me Daddy when she wants to acknowledge the fact that I made her. Dev.Dev has always called me sire at those times. I lifted her off the ladder."
Willow filtered out all emotion she heard in his voice, choosing instead to just listen to the raw words and concentrate on typing them. If she let herself hear the pain in his voice, she didn't think she'd be able to continue listening without crying.
"All she was wearing was a man's suit jacket, with a crowbar tied to it. She was so weak, and I think she used it to knock on the sewer grate so that I could hear her. I had her in my arms, and she looked at me for a moment, then passed out. Cordy got some towels and I put Dev on the sofa.
"It was.horrible. Every inch of her that I could see had been brutalized. There were cross burns, holy water scaldings, knife marks, bruising. Everything possible. Both of her breasts had been cut open. Her legs had been broken and reset wrong.
"I didn't know how bad it was at first. Then I moved her to the bed to clean her off. I tried to take off the jacket, but it was stuck to her back. I didn't know. I just pulled it away. That was when I saw."
Willow's fingers paused, waiting, but nothing else came. She slowly lifted her head, seeing the tears falling from Angel's eyes.
"Her back was flayed," Spike said roughly, and Willow nodded just once, and looked back down.
"Cordy came in with blood," Angel continued in a monotone. "Took one look and ran out of the room. I gave Dev every drop of blood I had on hand, but it wasn't staying in her. Too many open wounds that wouldn't heal. I sent Cordy to the blood bank for human blood and tried a few more times. Nothing worked. So I drank the blood myself, cut my wrist, and forced her to drink from me. No change."
"You called Spike then," Willow ventured. "Told him about Dev, and asked him to see if he could track down Drusilla. From what Buffy found out, Spike, you went to Willie's. I'm guessing you tried to find out where she was."
"Yeah," he agreed harshly. "Some demon's ex-girlfriend was a vampire, and he told me that rumor had it Dru was in Madrid. I called a vamp there that she and I knew from years ago, and he told me that she left a few days ago. Said she was talking about Devils and Angels, so I figured she'd sensed something had happened and had already started on her way here."
"Is that what happened?"
"Yeah. She showed up on Saturday and neither of us had spoken to her," Spike replied.
"What happened next?"
"Wesley and Cordy brought over more blood," Angel went on. "We fed ourselves then fed Dev."
"Was there any improvement?"
"Very slight," Angel answered her. "The wounds are so bad that the blood drains out of her as fast as it goes in. But our blood *is* helping to heal her injuries."
"Problem is," Spike interjected, "it's slow going."
"How long do you think it'll be until she's completely healed?"
"Weeks," Spike said quietly when Angel didn't respond. "And that's with us giving her our blood five times a day."
Willow looked up at Spike then. He looked.empty. Just empty. It wasn't a pretty sight. She took her hands from the keyboard. "Spike, when you and Drusilla first came to Sunnydale, she'd been injured."
Spike frowned at the changed in subject. "Yeah," he said, confused. "Mob in Prussia roughed her up good. What does that have to do with anything?"
"You performed a ritual to heal her," Willow reminded him. "It wasn't enough for her to drink her sire's blood. Why is sire's blood working for Dev?"
"Sire's blood alone will help a vampire heal," Angel explained. "But that wasn't what Spike and Dru were after in Sunnydale. Dru was already healed from Prussia. She was just weak."
"She would have recovered her strength on her own eventually," Spike added, "but it probably would have been years 'til that happened."
A shortcut. Of course. Impatience had struck again. "Can you three perform that ritual on Dev, then?" Willow wondered. "I mean, there are three sires, but I'm sure that could be compensated for somehow."
"The ritual is to restore strength, Willow," Angel responded, "and all the strength in the world won't heal what's been done to her."
"But what about after she's healed?"
"No," Spike said firmly. "We're not doing it."
That was surprising. She'd expected the opposite sentiment from Spike. "Why not?"
"Too risky," he said immediately. "Half the ritual worked for Drusilla, but it might not work for Dev. The whole ritual would kill the three of us and might not do what it's supposed to. Then where would Dev be?"
Weak and alone, Willow finished. "Okay. What happened after you three fed Dev the first time?"
"We got Dev comfortable and tried to figure out if any of us knew anything useful," Angel said. "We didn't. Dev is very independent. She keeps in touch, but."
Spike snorted. "She's a pain in the arse, Angel, feel free to say it. She'll spend an hour talking about why she decided to move to Las Vegas, but she doesn't talk about the Analects. Sometimes, if she's had a close call, she'll give us a sentence or two, but she won't answer any questions, and it's always after the fact."
That didn't bode well for Willow's quest for information. And, again with the Angel instead of Peaches. Right, one thing at a time.
"None of you knew anything, so then.?"
"We asked Drusilla to see if she could get into Dev's head," Spike told Willow. "She can do that, you know. Kind of wiggle into someone's mind and learn things. Didn't work. She's just too far gone for Drusilla to reach."
"We fed her again an hour later," Angel picked up the story. "That's when Spike realized that we might have a problem if you restored his soul. Drusilla said that it would be taken care of when Spike went to Sunnydale to get the girl who was going to save Dev."
"I asked her what she meant," Spike continued. "She said she saw you make Dev better and keep her safe."
Willow highly doubted that Drusilla had said anything so coherent, but she'd get to that later.
"So, I was going to be here, and Angel was sending Wesley away. Is that how I got volunteered for research duty?" Willow asked curiously.
Angel shook his head. "I hadn't made the decision to send Cordy and Wes away at that point."
Willow looked at Spike. "We don't know where Dev keeps the Analects," he told her. "But unlike the rest of us, she's a creature of technology. Computers," he clarified when Willow stared at him uncomprehendingly. "That's why we need your help. Even if that imbecile 'demon hunter' were here, he wouldn't be able to find out too much. The Analects haven't been seen by anyone but Dev since two months after she was.born. Anything else he'd come across wouldn't be reliable."
"Too many degrees of separation," Willow murmured, understanding. "The information would be tainted at this point. Right. So Spike went back to Sunnydale then, and I know all of that. Anything else happen?"
Angel shifted on the sofa and reached into his back pocket. He held out a crumpled piece of paper to her and she took it. There were some foreign words written, and then English words. Willow read it over and then busied herself by typing them to the document she'd been transcribing everything to.
"What is this?" she asked when she was done.
"Dev said that last night," Spike explained. "It's the only thing she's said since she got here."
Willow saved her document and reached for her soda. "We're done for now. I'll need you guys to help me at the computer in a little while. To help me figure out where to start," she explained when the merely blinked at her. "Give me access to emails she's sent, that kind of stuff." She frowned thoughtfully. "And if either of you can think of any place on line that she's ordered stuff--like Amazon--then let me know."
Both men nodded and Willow stood up, freezing when she saw Drusilla in the living room, just next to the bedroom door.
"Is it my turn to tell a story now?" the vampire asked giddily.
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Spike felt his eyes bug open, and then he was moving. He and Angel reached Drusilla at the same time and each grabbed one of her arms. Her eyes were trained on Willow.
"They think I can't play with my toys without breaking them," she cooed at Willow, "but you know better. I saw you in the sandbox, but you didn't have water to make the sand do what you wanted." She wagged a slim finger in Willow's direction. "No castles for you. I'm the princess."
"Dru, sweets, you don't want to leave Dev alone, do you?" Spike whispered in her ear, kissing her hair softly. He wrapped one arm around her waist and tried to guide her back the way she'd come. She didn't budge, nor did her eyes move from Willow. Fuck. He'd seen that glow in her eyes before, the one that said she wouldn't be denied.
He looked at Angel and nodded his head.
"Get in the bedroom, Drusilla," Angel ordered her, his voice hard. "Now. I'm not going to tell you again."
"Mroow, Daddy barks, but he won't bite. Maybe he should give away his teeth."
"Can you?" Spike heard Willow say, and turned to face the red-head. Her forehead was wrinkled, her eyes narrowed in the manner that Spike had come to associate with her thinking mode. Something was twisting in that clever mind. Double fuck.
"Can I give away my teeth?" Angel asked Willow distractedly, still holding Dru firmly.
"Can you play with your toys without breaking them?" Willow pushed.
"Yes, I can," Drusilla trilled, rolling her head back languidly.
Spike met Angel's eyes and saw that the souled vampire was just as lost as he was. "Willow, go upstairs," Spike hissed, but the stubborn bint ignored him.
Her countenance was no longer thoughtful, and her eyes were now a bit dazed, unfocused, as she moved closer to the three vampires. Spike swung his head around, but Drusilla's eyes were firmly planted on the floor, her lips pulled in a small smile.
"Knock it off, Dru!" Angel shouted, one hand at her throat, pushing her against the bedroom door.
"It's not her," Spike shouted. "It's not Dru."
The souled vampire blinked at Spike, then looked at Willow. Her eyes didn't have the empty, waiting gaze of someone in Dru's thrall. Angel released Dru's throat, still holding her arm tightly.
"Then, who--"
Their eyes met again as the scent assaulted their noses. Spike would know it anywhere.
"Dev," Angel whispered, his mouth hanging open.
She was daphne, their Dev. The light tang of lemon and the delicious sweet hint of honey. Purple blossoms ushered in by deep crimson berries that were poisonous even in small doses. It was Dev who had Willow in thrall, and he was damned if he knew how.
Willow moved closer, stopping just a foot in front of them. And though his mind screamed that he should get her away from Drusilla, he couldn't move. Drusilla's mood and posture had shifted. Her eyes were closed and her head lolled forward; she was trembling slightly.
"I'm trying," she mewled. "But they think I'll break the toy. Shatter her skin, melt her hair, take her eyes. I won't!"
Brazil. The destroyed remnants of Miss Edith's delicate porcelain body. The picture shifted in Spike's head until he no longer saw Miss Edith, but Willow, and he cursed softly.
"Sweetness," Willow murmured, her hand reaching out quickly to gently brush Drusilla's hair back.
Spike watched Drusilla's lower lip slide outwards in a pout. Her delicate foot stamped once, twice, before Willow lifted her hand again and took Dru's chin between two fingers, raising the vampire's head until their eyes locked.
In mind-numbing shock, Spike saw the hand in front of Dru's face, two fingers outstretched, moving close to her wide and unblinking eyes. "Be in me," Willow murmured, swinging her hand back and around until they came close to her own eyes. "Be in me."
"It's quiet now," he heard Drusilla whisper in wonder. Angel threw himself backwards, away from Dru, with a cry of pain. Spike wanted to follow, to escape this veil of sanity that had settled over his Princess. They hadn't known. Dev had never told them.
Willow smiled, her eyes soft and filled with something not Willow at all. "I'd make it like this forever if I could," she breathed.
"Of course you would," Drusilla replied immediately. "You would do anything for us, and we for you."
Spike thought it sounded familiar, as though they'd had the same exchange before and it was commonplace, rote.
"She is not a toy, and you mustn't think of her that way," Willow said firmly.
"Tell us who did this," Spike pleaded, his nose filled with Dev.
Willow didn't move, didn't seem to have heard him. She was still focused solely on Drusilla, like nothing else existed.
"She can't."
Spike looked at Drusilla. Her eyes were clear and rational, her face regretful. "Why not? Why can't she?!"
"Because she doesn't know, and because even if she did, she's not here, really. It's like a.recording. She's too weak to do more."
"Dru." That was Angel's voice, sounding tortured, despondent.
Her face softened, and she turned to Angel. "I've no time for it. She can't keep this up for much longer."
Once Drusilla was facing Willow again, the red-head continued as though nothing else had occurred. Maybe it hadn't, at least not for her, and maybe Drusilla *was* all that existed.
"I need to make sure you won't hurt her," Willow went on. "Change for me."
Spike jerked Drusilla harshly when she vamped out, pulling her away from Willow. But she tore herself from his restraining hold, her hand grasping his just briefly. "It's all right, luv. She knows what she's doing."
Willow's small hand was raised again, moving towards Dru's mouth. "Open, sweetness." When Dru had complied, Willow flicked her index finger along a fang, drawing blood. Dru remained motionless, letting the few drops of blood fall into her mouth. The daphne was gone, Spike realized. In its place was cloves and mint. Willow. "She is me. Taste me, smell me, know me. She is me."
Drusilla swallowed as Willow removed her hand. She took a step closer and swayed towards Dru, whose eyes had regained their normal madness. Then Willow pitched forward, her head tilting to the side and leaving her neck exposed.
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Angel had watched the exchange between Dru and Willow with confusion and astonishment. It hadn't seem possible that it could really be happening, that Drusilla's mind had been ironed out smoothly, that Willow reeked of Dev. Even Dru's words to him had seemed surreal, and he'd wondered if he'd been hallucinating.
But no, he hadn't been. His mind kicked into gear again as Willow fell against Drusilla. Willow's scent hung thickly in the air for a brief moment, as if amplified, then faded to its regular resonance. Angel saw Drusilla smiling with devilish delight at the neck just inches from her mouth.
Her head lowered, and Angel knew he wouldn't make it in time. Neither would Spike, who was only a few feet away from the women. Drusilla had a stunning speed to her strike that was surprising even for a vampire. Her mouth came to rest on Willow's neck, her fangs pierced the skin, her throat moved, swallowing the first taste.
.and she lifted her head, frowning. "Naughty, naughty," she said indignantly. "You are a very bad girl for offering yourself like this. Tricky. None of that."
Spike reached them, snatched Willow around the waist with both arms and sprinted across the room. Angel wrapped his hand round Dru's arm and shoved her into the bedroom. He raised a warning hand. "Stay," he growled, slamming the door shut.
He was hesitant to leave the door, worried that Dru would wander out again despite his command. Spike had moved Willow to the couch and laid her down and was crouched next to her. "Spike?"
"She's fine," Spike called out, and Angel closed his eyes in relief. It was short lived, as a high pitched keening emanated from the bedroom. "I've got her, go," Spike said quickly.
Angel entered the bedroom. Drusilla was rocking on her heels, hands tearing at her hair as she stared at the figure on the bed. The noise was coming from her, not Dev. He stepped past Dru and then stopped, horrified. Blood. Everywhere. Soaked through the sheets. Every wound seeping.
*Nonononononononononono.*
Grabbed the bowl at the foot of the bed. Spun on his heel and vamped out. Took Drusilla's wrist and tore into it. Held the bowl under it and didn't remove it was a third of the way filled. Then his own wrist. Two thirds full.
He was back in the living room and Spike was staring at him with wide eyes as Angel practically flew at him. Angel raised the bowl and Spike changed, slashing his own wrist in time for the first drop to fall into the bowl Angel slid into place.
Vaguely he knew Willow was staring at him, fear and confusion drawing the color from her face, sending tremors through her body. No time.
"Get all the blood we have," Angel growled as the bowl was filled and he made his way back to the bedroom.
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Willow was pushed back against the sofa. Spike lifted her legs and did something with the cushion under her knee so that it raised her legs. Her wide eyes followed his movements, the adrenaline rush that had resulted from fear at Spike's unexpected change in visage and bloodletting still coursing through her.
"Spike, what's going on?" she asked weakly, one trembling hand pressed against the bite. "What happened?"
"Stay there for a sec."
He was gone and back quickly, setting a first aid kit on her stomach. "Clean the bite and bandage it." He gestured to the coffee table, where two cans of soda sat. "Drink those. She only took a sip, but you're probably needing something to get the cotton from your head. Don't try to walk just yet."
A choked sound clawed its way up Willow's throat. "A sip? But I feel--"
"Not from the bite," he refuted. She saw him tense, saw his eyes travel towards the bedroom door. "Dev needed you, and she's paying for it now I wager. The caffeine'll help."
The empty haunted quality was back in his voice, his face, and Willow nodded. She heard rummage through the fridge then go into the bedroom. Bypassing the first aid kit on her stomach, she reached a shaking hand out and clumsily retrieved one of the sodas.
It took a moment to get it open, and she dribbled a good deal of it on her face as she drank it from her prone position. When she was done, most of the fog had receded and she took a deep breath and began to clean the bite mark. She noticed as she opened the kit that her right index finger was sore. Looking down she saw a small cut that resembled a paper cut and she swabbed that, too, with antiseptic.
She didn't know how it had happened. One second she'd been across the room from Drusilla, trying to figure out the best way to get the vampire to talk about her vision, and the next she'd been in Dru's arms experiencing the all too familiar pain of having a vamp's fangs buried in her neck.
Spike had said Dev had needed her, and she knew that the Amalgamated had some psychic abilities similar to Dru's. Had Dev possessed her? And what did he mean, Dev was paying for it?
The blood. Willow sat up suddenly, the first aid kit tumbling to the floor. Dev had been making progress, and she had the sinking feeling that had just changed. All that blood. Just like the first night Angel had told her about. Eyes narrowed, Willow reached for the second soda and drained it quickly.
Standing wasn't that difficult, she found out a few minutes later, and after a couple of unsteady trips around the room her balance had righted itself.
A half hour later she was at the bedroom door, knocking lightly. Spike answered, narrowing his eyes at her. "I told you not to move," he snapped. "We don't need another body to take care of, damn it."
"I'm fine," Willow dismissed. "I'm going for more blood. How much should I get?"
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he stared down at her and then back over his shoulder and nodded. "Triple what was in the fridge. Take my cell with you."
The door closed in her face and Willow mouthed a few curses. Triple. He wanted sixty bags of blood--human blood. She could only hope that the contact she and Angel had visited earlier in the day could provide it.
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Willow didn't return to Angel's until four hours later. His contact, a squirrelly looking man who was shorter than she was and twitched constantly, had decidedly not had that much blood on hand. Swallowing nervously, he'd offered to take her to get it. She'd called the vampires to find out what they wanted her to do and then let Angel talk to his contact.
The man had been pale and shaking when he'd given her the phone back, and had refused to look at her, much less talk, from that point on. Willow hadn't minded in the least. She'd been apprehensive enough about the meanderings they made through the city that it was a blessing. Foul sewers, rat infested buildings, hospital dumpsters. They'd made the rounds. And at each stop, Willow had stayed carefully out of sight of whomever--or whatever, in several instances--Angel's contact was meeting, as Angel had insisted of her.
She'd asked for help getting back to Angel's apartment, but the man had stepped back from her fearfully and shaken his head emphatically. He had, however, provided her with a shopping cart after she'd handed him a thick wad of bills from the wallet she'd pilfered from Angel's coat on her way out.
Spike and Angel were hauling the blood up the sewer ladders. Neither looked to be in good shape. They were more colorless than usual, and even seemed gaunt, though Willow wondered how much of that had to do with the dead looks in their eyes than with any actual physical changes to their features.
Angel thanked her tonelessly and took several bags of blood in his hands. "I'm going to head upstairs to the computer," Willow told him, running her hands through her hair. "Do you have emails from Dev on it?"
Dazed, Angel looked at her. "Uh, yeah. Cordy made folders."
Willow nodded and asked him for his sign-in information. Once he gave it to her, he stood there, like he was lost. Willow put her hand on his arm and looked up at him. "She needs you."
He left. The rest of the blood was sitting on the table and counters in the kitchen. Neither of the men had spoken to her about Dev's current condition, but she had the feeling that their childe's progress had either halted, or regressed completely.
Knowing that she'd be upstairs for a while, Willow set about gathering every pot and large bowl she could find in Angel's kitchen. Unsurprisingly, there weren't many. She filled them all with hot water from the faucet, then tilted her head and filled the sink itself. She put twenty of the bags in the refrigerator, and distributed the rest of them among the filled containers to warm them.
Then, gathering what she needed, she headed upstairs.
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Spike winced when he exited the stairwell and entered the brightly lit office area of the building. Downstairs, Angel had turned the lights as low as possible in the bedroom, bathing Dev in shadows and making it only a little bit easier to be in the same room with her. The only light in the rest of the apartment was the soft fluorescent bulb set above the kitchen sink. The change in illumination was harsh for his sensitive eyes.
When they'd adjusted, he saw Willow at Cordelia's desk, hunched over a keyboard. Her glassy eyes were staring at the monitor and her nimble fingers were flying over the keyboard. A half dozen soda cans battled for space on the desk with numerous balls of wadded up paper and her laptop. Her eyes flickered from the screen in front of her to the laptop screen to her right, then back again.
He didn't know how she was doing it, cans of caffeine aside. He supposed four years of helping the Slayer had gotten her used to sleepless nights, but it took its toll eventually, and Spike could tell she was at the point right now.
The shadows beneath her eyes had become so dark as to resemble bruises, and her eyes were wide in the manner of someone who was afraid to blink in case they fell asleep. Still, her fingers never faltered and for a long while the only sound in the room was the click-clack of the keyboard.
"Damn it!"
Spike started at the sudden outburst, and the subsequent slamming of Willow's hands on the keyboard. She noticed him and leaned back in the chair with a groan. "Creature of technology? She's a freaking genius."
His stomach clenched. "Can't do it?"
"I didn't say that," Willow replied, pressing her palms against her eyes. "But I'm not getting into that system of hers tonight."
Spike relaxed, purposely refusing to ask her when she might; he didn't think he'd be able to handle the answer right then. "This morning, you mean," he said instead.
Her hands slipped from her face and she squinted at her watch. Spike saw her do a double take before a quiet, "oh" slipped from her lips. It was six in the morning, and she'd probably only just realized that she'd been up for almost twenty-four hours.
"How's it going down there?" she asked a moment later, concern furrowing her brow.
"Shitty," Spike told her bluntly, running a hand across the back of his neck. "She was just as bad as when she got here, and it'll take be another day before she's back to where she was."
Willow nodded slowly, and her green eyes studied him. "You're feeding her constantly, aren't you?"
Clever of her. "Yeah. Taking a break now. Angel's making food for you." He paused. "Thanks," he said reluctantly.
She shrugged and began cleaning off the desk. "I haven't done anything yet, Spike."
Spike shook his head and stared at her. The bloody chit had hauled her sorry ass through the sewers, and who the fuck else knew where, to get them blood after being mind-fucked by an unconscious vampire and nibbled on by another. Then she'd gone ahead and warmed all the blood, saving them from having to waste time with the microwave, only to spend the next many hours trying to get access to Dev's computers. With probably only twelve hours of sleep in the last three days. All to help a vampire she'd never even seen, let alone met.
"Right," he muttered. "Come on, then. Food should be done."
She smiled gratefully at him and made her way to the staircase. Spike followed her, noticing that her movements were slow and precise, as though she'd begun feeling her exhaustion now that she had nothing to occupy her. It was a feeling he knew they were all experiencing. Drusilla had curled up next to Dev before he'd come upstairs, and been asleep within minutes. Angel would undoubtedly collapse after he finished cooking, and Spike planned on smoking a cigarette and doing the same thing.
Upstairs, Angel dished out a large helping of scrambled eggs for Willow, who ate them like a zombie. Angel sat with her at the table, and Spike leaned against the counter and lit a cigarette, and didn't hear a peep from Angel about it.
"You don't have to worry about Drusilla," Angel said abruptly.
"How come?" Willow asked, only a hint of her usual curiosity present.
Spike was the one who answered. Between Angel's unwavering tendency to be cryptic, and Willow's need to get explanations that left no unanswered questions, he thought it might be hours before it was settled and they could sleep.
"Used those gifts of hers to associate your blood with Dev."
He could see the gears of her talented mind turning as she finished the eggs and reached for her juice. Just as Angel opened his mouth to explain further, Willow spoke. "Will it work?"
"Already has," Spike reminded her, putting the cigarette out in one of the empty bowls on the counter. Then he gave in just a little when he saw Willow frown. "Drusilla may not be all souled up, pet, but she'd walk into the sun before hurting Dev. That little trick Dev pulled will make her think she's doing just that if she hurts you."
"Okay. I'm thinking later I'll need more info, but that'll do for now."
Angel stacked the dishes in the sink and Spike went into the living room. He moved the couch and the coffee table and began setting up three beds on the floor using the stacks of bedding that Angel had pulled from his closet. Willow stayed in the kitchen, and Angel checked in on the vampires in the bedroom. He emerged in a pair of sweats and padded on bare feet to help Spike finish up.
When they were done, Willow stood, staring at the makeshift beds on the living room floor. The exhaustion should have made her body lethargic, but instead she was tense. Her hands curled into fists and her eyes were wide and unblinking.
Spike went to the television and turned it on, raising the volume slightly. "Why don't you brush all that high fructose corn syrup off your teeth, huh?" he said to Willow as he sat on the couch and began slipping off his boots, watching some idiot or another report the news. "Don't need your mouth rot stinking up the room."
He heard her leave the room, and set his boots aside, catching the sweatpants Angel tossed his way.
"What's with the television?"
Spike avoided Angel's eyes and removed his shirt, not answering.
"Spike, what--"
If they hadn't been vampires, they wouldn't have heard the quiet, muffled sobs from the bathroom.
"That's what," Spike answered, jerking his jeans off and flinging them to the side. He pulled the sweatpants on and turned to look at Angel, who ran his hands through his hair and sank onto one of the beds.
"What should we do?" Angel asked quietly.
"Nothing," Spike said clearly. He snatched the remote from the end table and slid from the couch to the floor. He stretched out on one of the beds, his hands folded under the back of his head. "Don't tell her you heard, don't notice her puffy eyes, and whatever you bloody do, don't give her one of those pitying looks you've got patented, alright?"
Angel frowned doubtfully. "We can't just ignore it."
Spike rolled his eyes. "Yeah we can."
"Maybe you can," Angel bit out, "but I can't."
Sitting up, Spike glared at the other man. "Are you really this inept? 'Cause this crosses the line from endearingly awkward to just plain stupid."
Angel didn't say anything, and Spike groaned again. There were just too many stubborn fools in this building and not a single compromising one who was sensible. He cocked his head, listening. The water was running in the bathroom.
"It's what she does," he explained as though Angel was simple. "Gets rid of the stress and moves on." He was tempted to make a snide comment about Angel being used to the Slayer's melodramatic attention-getting crying jags, but figured it was way too soon to be breaking the truce. "You start trying to get in touch with her feelings, and it brings it all back. Defeats the purpose," he finished, lying back down.
"How exactly is it you know what she *does*, Spike?" Angel asked, voice sharp and pointed.
"Because, unlike you when you were helping the lot of them, I notice things non-Buffy related, you stupid git," he snapped back.
The pipes squeaked as the water shut off, and Spike and Angel retreated to silence. Willow appeared a few minutes later, dressed in her pajamas and dragging herself along like only sheer will power was keeping her going.
"Get the lights, Angel," Spike said, turning the television off and getting under the blanket. He smirked at Willow as she approached. "Come on, Red, you're in the middle."
"Goody," she drawled, lying down. "Scourge of Europe bookends. Xander will be so jealous."
"You're telling me. I've seen the sultry way he gazes at me when he thinks I'm not looking. I feel all violated," he said primly, huffing slightly in indignation.
"You should sue," Willow suggested around a yawn, burrowing under the flap of her sleeping bag.
"You set, Willow?" Angel called out then flipped off the lights at her nod.
Spike heard Angel moving through the room to his bed. Silence reigned in the room, and Spike was surprised to find that despite the bone deep exhaustion, his mind wouldn't shut the fuck up for a long, long time.
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One would have thought that the five people in Angel's place would have crowded one another, but the exact opposite was true, Willow admitted silently to herself four days later as she shut down the computer for the evening and headed downstairs.
She barely saw the trio of conscious vampires until it was time to turn in for the day, and then that was only Spike and Angel. Drusilla always shared the bed with Dev, who Willow had yet to see. Not that she was clamoring to. Three quarters of the Scourge of Europe left the bedroom looking ill, and her poor human mind didn't want to contemplate what it took to disgust them.
Neither was she all too keen on the idea of together time. Something had been swirling in the air since she'd gotten there, a something that was fraught with things unsaid and repressed, and trying to hide behind a guise of courteousness. Before this trip to L.A. she would have said no one would see the day when Spike would call Angel by his name and not insult him for an hour, much less four days. The tension was mounting, and she spent a good deal of time hoping to all that was holy that she would be well out of the way when it finally came to a head.
Which is why she was surprised and a little anxious when she exited the stairwell and found all three vampires in the same room. Willow missed a step, and openly gaped. "Uh, hi," she stammered.
The two men were across the room from one another, Spike smoking in the kitchen and seeming to be unable to remain still for even a second while the tic-tic-tic wracked the side of his face. Angel sat in the living room, in a chair that had been moved into the corner. She thought it had been moved even further into the shadows than it had already been. He wasn't brooding, though. He was glowering, and his fingers were tapping an angry staccato on the arms of the chair. Drusilla was draped across the couch, annoyance written across her pouty yet conniving features.
"Spike--"
"For the last fucking time, Dru, shut it," Spike shouted. "You're driving me bonkers, luv."
Still the gently voiced endearments in the midst of his raised voice, even with all else that was hanging in the air.
Drusilla jumped to her feet, rounding on Spike with golden eyes. "The walls are bumping me and my chest is full of dusty air."
Spike tossed his hands up. "Oh, for the love of--your lungs are empty, just like they've been for--"
"Be quiet, both of you," Angel snapped from the shadows. "You've been arguing for an hour, and it stops. Now."
"Bite me," Spike growled. "I've had it up to here--" He cut one hand across his throat. "--with your sanctimonious crap. Play another bloody tune or take a crawl through the sewers."
Willow was not the leader type. She did not take control of situations and direct their course, nor did she talk sense into people. Well, okay, sometimes she did. But mostly not. At that moment, however, she realized she had to do something to either calm them down, or distract them long enough so that she could make a break for it.
"How about we go up to the roof?" Willow proffered desperately. "We can set up that baby monitor I got yesterday and get out of the building for a little bit."
Willow saw Dru move to her, felt the cold arm wrap around her shoulders. "A bear of not-so-little brain, you are. I can clean my chest out and the boys can prowl like animals, stalking nothing but feeling better."
"Um, yeah, sure," Willow drawled, cutting her eyes in Dru's direction a bit warily. She was supposed to be safe from an attack, but since she never understood even a tenth of what the vampire was saying, her comfort level really wasn't where it should have been.
"I don't want to go up to the roof," Spike snarled, "with him."
"Oh, but Spike," Dru sang, slithering her way to the blonde, "think of the stars. Could you pluck one from the sky for me, luv? Only for me?"
Willow watched as Drusilla twisted around Spike, her hands never leaving his body and her eyes drifting open and shut as the lilting words meandered from her red, red mouth. Spike's eyes never left Dru's face as she cavorted around him, and Willow saw the softness in them, the fond indulgence that she'd never seen him offer anyone else.
"I'll pluck a dozen of 'em, Princess," he husked, tangling his hand in her hair before she shifted around again. "Only and ever for you."
"No," Dru sighed, smiling mysteriously. "But I've promised, haven't I? I remember.and no one else knows. I am always the one to remember, but I wish I wasn't."
Dru was in front of Spike, her back to him. He stepped forward and his arms slunk around her waist to hold her tightly. She leaned back, and they swayed together. Spike's face was soft, his eyes downcast, as he leaned his head against hers.
"Almost perfect," Dru murmured, and Willow saw that she was looking across the room to where Angel was sitting. "But an actor has missed his cue, hasn't he?"
And there was more movement, this time from Angel, who crossed the living room with strides that brought to mind barely contained physicality, and joined the other vampires in the kitchen. Dru laughed happily and ran her fingers along his face and then Angel stepped closer, until he was pressed against Dru.
Willow wished she could see his face, see if she could read anything on it, as one of his arms curled around both of the other vampires' waists and the other did the same to their shoulders. Spike had tensed, Willow noticed, his head lifting and an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at Angel. Then, slowly, his grip on Dru shifted until he was also touching Angel.
*Guess I shouldn't miss* my *cue*, Willow thought frantically, not sure what the heck was going on, and very sure she didn't really want to know. She fled upstairs and shut herself in the bathroom in the offices.
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Spike hadn't wanted Angel to come to him and Dru, hadn't wanted to stage a scene that had been played out many times before, more often than not also including Darla. But then he'd seen Angel's eyes, had seen that brief glimpse of the other man's self that no soul could touch, and repeated to himself Dru's earlier words: *an actor has missed his cue*. It was all a game, just pretend, and that was enough for him to include Angel in the scene.
They stood that way for a long time, Spike and Angel's eyes locked, while Dru nestled between them contentedly, almost purring.
He was vaguely aware of Willow's hasty retreat, but didn't think about it for long, as Angel had begun speaking. That look was still on his face, and now Spike could hear it in his voice. Cold steel tempered with warm fire.
"This little set-up of ours isn't working the way it should," he said coldly, his eyes running over Spike's face. "You're barely civil to me, and Dru here won't listen to a word I say. That's going to change."
"Yeah, right." He'd meant that to come out sarcastic and biting instead of low and confused, didn't think he'd do better next time, and settled for flipping Angel off.
Angel's hand was around his, tightening until Spike felt several bones break. The dark vampire's faced had hardened, though there was still that damnable warmth in his eyes that was throwing Spike for a loop.
Between them, Dru trembled.
"None of that," Angel hissed. "You're Dru's. Dru and everything she has are mine. That leaves you with no one you're allowed to mouth off to, Spike. Do you need a reminder of that?" His lips pulled up, a cruel twisting that had Spike's stomach clenching in response.
Thoughts flew through Spike's mind like a whirlwind, but none touched down long enough for him to snatch him. "Sod off," he whispered harshly, knowing it was about the stupidest thing he could say but failing to stop the words from coming.
Angel's smile widened. "So what I'm hearing is that you need a reminder, huh?"
His head moved faster than Spike could see, then Angel's tongue thrust into his mouth. It wasn't a kiss. It was Angel telling him what was about to happen. Before he'd adjusted to the intrusion, it was gone, and Spike was left tense and unsure of what the hell he was going to do.
*Angel* was not Dru's sire, and this went beyond the little game of pretend he'd agreed to play. But he was there with the two of them, and even if it wasn't old times and even if he really hadn't put his heart into the charade, there was something so tempting about it. Dev was there too, wasn't she? Just like at the end of the last time that it had been Angelus, Drusilla and Spike, without Darla and her constant bitching.
Except.that hadn't been Angelus, had it? Which, granted, explained the lack of Darla the Bitch, but not why that time had been one of Spike's more favorite memories of Angelus until he'd found out about the soul. He realized--not for the first time, but in a new way--that the only thing that had been different during that last trip had been Angelus' sudden penchant for hunting alone. Everything else had been exactly as it had always been.
This last thought, combined with his own silent admission that it was tempting, was what made him smirk at Angel and say, "Go twiddle yourself, wanker."
Spike watched as the veneer of harmlessness slowly faded from Angel. "I was hoping you'd say that."
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Fifteen minutes later, Willow pressed against the sofa in the main office, her eyes wide, and resolutely forced herself not to think about why she had just turned up the volume on the small radio on Cordy's desk until the knob wouldn't go any further.
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It took several hours for Angel to remind Spike and Dru of why they would be listening to him from now on. Time was, it had taken days, but the situation didn't allow for it. Dev had to be fed, and Willow was probably a blushing mess of nerves upstairs. Despite that, it had definitely been a reminder that Spike wasn't soon going to forget, and Angel's slight smirk let him know that the other vampire knew it. He rolled his eyes at Angel's smugness, not having the desire to dredge up the energy for anything else.
He was lying on the kitchen floor, still twitching slightly, Dru curled up between him and Angel. It had been telling, the inclusion of Dru. The last time Angelus had really been around, in Sunnydale, everything had been screwed up six ways from Sunday, thanks to Angelus' obsession with the Slayer. Angelus had reestablished dominance over Dru in the usual manner, but had virtually ignored Spike unless it was to mock him cruelly. He'd also kept Dru from Spike as much as possible, just to twist the knife a little more.
This time, though, there had been no games beyond restoring the natural order of their little "family", and Spike wasn't complaining.
He felt Dru become leaden against him, glanced down and found that she had fallen asleep. Angel touched her face, and Spike saw that he was watching her with hooded eyes. He had a good idea of what was going through the other vampire's mind.
"Do you think that Dev would--"
"No."
The hand flinched back. Dev would never introduce the sane Drusilla to Angel. Though she was reticent about a great many things, she'd never made a secret of the feelings of protectiveness she harbored for her loved ones. Of which Angel was one. Showing him what he'd destroyed would hurt him, and Dev would not allow that.
Angel appeared to shake himself free of his morbid thoughts. Well, as much as he could, at any rate. "We'll sleep in the bedroom tonight. Take Dru in. I'll call Willow and move the beds."
As Spike rose and lifted Dru into his arms, he felt a quick surge of gratitude at Angel's gesture. Dru would be distressed to wake up without them after having fallen asleep with them. Continuity worked wonders when it came to keeping her calm.
He waited while Angel found the cordless phone and called the office. Spike could hear the cheerleader's voice as the machine picked up.
"Willow, pick up, it's Angel. Willow?" A moment later, she apparently answered, because Angel continued with, "Finish up what you're doing and get some sleep. You'll have the living room to yourself tonight.
The bedding was moved and after they fed Dev again, Spike gently biting Dru to get her blood, the three of them settled down to sleep. It was the first night since he'd been in Los Angeles that Spike fell asleep without trouble.
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Angel had suggested omelets, and she'd found out he could do those very well. She was cleaning up after her meal--two helpings--while the vampires went in to feed Dev. They'd all imbibed more than a packet of blood each, Angel calmly asking her if she had wanted them to leave the room since she was eating.
Willow had shrugged. "Spike stayed at Giles' for a while," she'd said, unconcerned. "We all got used to it."
Spike and Angel came back into the living room, both looking paler than they had before they'd eaten, and more blood was prepared. Spike brought several large mugs in to Drusilla, who was sitting with Dev. When he returned, Willow grabbed a can of soda from the fridge, and stopped him when he would have gone upstairs.
"Spike." He paused by the lift. "We all need to talk."
Angel ran his hands through his hair and took a seat on the couch. Spike sat on a chair. Willow picked up her lap top case from the floor by the bedroom door and studied the vampires' positions. She decided her best bet was to be situated so that she could see both their faces, and opted for sitting cross-legged on the floor. Dragging the coffee table over to her, she unpacked her laptop and set it up, opening a blank word processor document.
"So," she said easily. "I'm rested and fed. I think we should start at the beginning."
Neither vampire said anything. Angel was gripping the arm of the sofa like it was trying to get away from him, and Spike was staring up at the ceiling like it was showing a movie. Willow sighed, already frustrated. Okay, she knew it wasn't easy for them, but how did they expect her to accomplish anything if she didn't know anything?
"Angel," she said calmly, adjusting the laptop screen. "Tell me about Dev's arrival." A ripping noise. His fingers had torn through the sofa fabric. Better and better. "Angel!"
His eyes lifted from the floor and focused on her. "Cordy and I were down here," he said without inflection. "There was a noise at the sewer grate. I opened it. Dev was there."
Dutifully, Willow typed his words. "And this was on Thursday?" Angel nodded curtly. "And what time was that?"
"Just before dawn."
Willow took a breath and tried to calm herself. Getting angry would just make the situation worse. She was going to have to do it the way Angel wanted, and pull every single detail out of him with pointed questions. It was going to make it worse on him, but he didn't seem to notice.
"Did she say anything?" Willow prodded.
A long pause. "Sire."
"Sire?" Willow echoed, her brow furrowing. "Is that what she normally calls you?"
"No."
"Then why did she call you sire when she saw you?"
"Because she could tell I didn't recognize her."
"We're done," Spike snarled, jumping to his feet.
He was standing above her, his game face on and his fists clenched at his side. Willow looked at Angel, saw that he was too distracted to notice or care, and she stood up.
"If you think I'm getting a kick out of this, you're wrong," she said quickly, trying to forestall a "spot of violence" as Spike called it. "The two of you hear some vision that Drusilla had and drag me out here. Fine. You tell me that you want me to help you figure out what happened, why it happened, and who might have done it. Fine."
Willow stepped back from Spike and glared at the two of them. Angel was still in la la land, and Willow strode quickly to him, snapping her fingers in his face. He blinked owlishly and stared at her. "Explain to me, both of you, how I'm supposed to do either of those things in my current state of ignorance," she tossed out archly.
Angel was on his feet now. "You don't need every detail," he said flatly.
"Really?" Willow asked innocently. "Interesting. Tell me, then, what Dru's vision says I should do."
"How the fuck should we know," Spike exploded. "She can't talk right and we can't understand her babbling."
"All right," Willow replied smoothly. She folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot. "Then why don't you tell me what to do to find out the information you need? Step by step. You know, so I can do it."
Angel had already grasped her point, and sat down heavily. It took Spike an extra moment or two. "Bloody hell," he muttered, game face slipping off.
Smiling gently, Willow sat in front of her laptop again. "I want to help," she told them softly. "And I know it's hard, but it's necessary."
"All right," Angel whispered.
"Spike?" Willow asked. "You with me?"
"Yeah, pet, I'm with you," he mumbled, sitting again, this time on the sofa with Angel. On the opposite side of it, but still on the same sofa.
"Angel, am I going to have to ask a jillion questions?"
"No, I'll tell you."
"Then go ahead."
"Her face was a mess," he began tonelessly. "Even her voice was off. But when she said sire, I knew that it had to be her. Drusilla calls me Daddy when she wants to acknowledge the fact that I made her. Dev.Dev has always called me sire at those times. I lifted her off the ladder."
Willow filtered out all emotion she heard in his voice, choosing instead to just listen to the raw words and concentrate on typing them. If she let herself hear the pain in his voice, she didn't think she'd be able to continue listening without crying.
"All she was wearing was a man's suit jacket, with a crowbar tied to it. She was so weak, and I think she used it to knock on the sewer grate so that I could hear her. I had her in my arms, and she looked at me for a moment, then passed out. Cordy got some towels and I put Dev on the sofa.
"It was.horrible. Every inch of her that I could see had been brutalized. There were cross burns, holy water scaldings, knife marks, bruising. Everything possible. Both of her breasts had been cut open. Her legs had been broken and reset wrong.
"I didn't know how bad it was at first. Then I moved her to the bed to clean her off. I tried to take off the jacket, but it was stuck to her back. I didn't know. I just pulled it away. That was when I saw."
Willow's fingers paused, waiting, but nothing else came. She slowly lifted her head, seeing the tears falling from Angel's eyes.
"Her back was flayed," Spike said roughly, and Willow nodded just once, and looked back down.
"Cordy came in with blood," Angel continued in a monotone. "Took one look and ran out of the room. I gave Dev every drop of blood I had on hand, but it wasn't staying in her. Too many open wounds that wouldn't heal. I sent Cordy to the blood bank for human blood and tried a few more times. Nothing worked. So I drank the blood myself, cut my wrist, and forced her to drink from me. No change."
"You called Spike then," Willow ventured. "Told him about Dev, and asked him to see if he could track down Drusilla. From what Buffy found out, Spike, you went to Willie's. I'm guessing you tried to find out where she was."
"Yeah," he agreed harshly. "Some demon's ex-girlfriend was a vampire, and he told me that rumor had it Dru was in Madrid. I called a vamp there that she and I knew from years ago, and he told me that she left a few days ago. Said she was talking about Devils and Angels, so I figured she'd sensed something had happened and had already started on her way here."
"Is that what happened?"
"Yeah. She showed up on Saturday and neither of us had spoken to her," Spike replied.
"What happened next?"
"Wesley and Cordy brought over more blood," Angel went on. "We fed ourselves then fed Dev."
"Was there any improvement?"
"Very slight," Angel answered her. "The wounds are so bad that the blood drains out of her as fast as it goes in. But our blood *is* helping to heal her injuries."
"Problem is," Spike interjected, "it's slow going."
"How long do you think it'll be until she's completely healed?"
"Weeks," Spike said quietly when Angel didn't respond. "And that's with us giving her our blood five times a day."
Willow looked up at Spike then. He looked.empty. Just empty. It wasn't a pretty sight. She took her hands from the keyboard. "Spike, when you and Drusilla first came to Sunnydale, she'd been injured."
Spike frowned at the changed in subject. "Yeah," he said, confused. "Mob in Prussia roughed her up good. What does that have to do with anything?"
"You performed a ritual to heal her," Willow reminded him. "It wasn't enough for her to drink her sire's blood. Why is sire's blood working for Dev?"
"Sire's blood alone will help a vampire heal," Angel explained. "But that wasn't what Spike and Dru were after in Sunnydale. Dru was already healed from Prussia. She was just weak."
"She would have recovered her strength on her own eventually," Spike added, "but it probably would have been years 'til that happened."
A shortcut. Of course. Impatience had struck again. "Can you three perform that ritual on Dev, then?" Willow wondered. "I mean, there are three sires, but I'm sure that could be compensated for somehow."
"The ritual is to restore strength, Willow," Angel responded, "and all the strength in the world won't heal what's been done to her."
"But what about after she's healed?"
"No," Spike said firmly. "We're not doing it."
That was surprising. She'd expected the opposite sentiment from Spike. "Why not?"
"Too risky," he said immediately. "Half the ritual worked for Drusilla, but it might not work for Dev. The whole ritual would kill the three of us and might not do what it's supposed to. Then where would Dev be?"
Weak and alone, Willow finished. "Okay. What happened after you three fed Dev the first time?"
"We got Dev comfortable and tried to figure out if any of us knew anything useful," Angel said. "We didn't. Dev is very independent. She keeps in touch, but."
Spike snorted. "She's a pain in the arse, Angel, feel free to say it. She'll spend an hour talking about why she decided to move to Las Vegas, but she doesn't talk about the Analects. Sometimes, if she's had a close call, she'll give us a sentence or two, but she won't answer any questions, and it's always after the fact."
That didn't bode well for Willow's quest for information. And, again with the Angel instead of Peaches. Right, one thing at a time.
"None of you knew anything, so then.?"
"We asked Drusilla to see if she could get into Dev's head," Spike told Willow. "She can do that, you know. Kind of wiggle into someone's mind and learn things. Didn't work. She's just too far gone for Drusilla to reach."
"We fed her again an hour later," Angel picked up the story. "That's when Spike realized that we might have a problem if you restored his soul. Drusilla said that it would be taken care of when Spike went to Sunnydale to get the girl who was going to save Dev."
"I asked her what she meant," Spike continued. "She said she saw you make Dev better and keep her safe."
Willow highly doubted that Drusilla had said anything so coherent, but she'd get to that later.
"So, I was going to be here, and Angel was sending Wesley away. Is that how I got volunteered for research duty?" Willow asked curiously.
Angel shook his head. "I hadn't made the decision to send Cordy and Wes away at that point."
Willow looked at Spike. "We don't know where Dev keeps the Analects," he told her. "But unlike the rest of us, she's a creature of technology. Computers," he clarified when Willow stared at him uncomprehendingly. "That's why we need your help. Even if that imbecile 'demon hunter' were here, he wouldn't be able to find out too much. The Analects haven't been seen by anyone but Dev since two months after she was.born. Anything else he'd come across wouldn't be reliable."
"Too many degrees of separation," Willow murmured, understanding. "The information would be tainted at this point. Right. So Spike went back to Sunnydale then, and I know all of that. Anything else happen?"
Angel shifted on the sofa and reached into his back pocket. He held out a crumpled piece of paper to her and she took it. There were some foreign words written, and then English words. Willow read it over and then busied herself by typing them to the document she'd been transcribing everything to.
"What is this?" she asked when she was done.
"Dev said that last night," Spike explained. "It's the only thing she's said since she got here."
Willow saved her document and reached for her soda. "We're done for now. I'll need you guys to help me at the computer in a little while. To help me figure out where to start," she explained when the merely blinked at her. "Give me access to emails she's sent, that kind of stuff." She frowned thoughtfully. "And if either of you can think of any place on line that she's ordered stuff--like Amazon--then let me know."
Both men nodded and Willow stood up, freezing when she saw Drusilla in the living room, just next to the bedroom door.
"Is it my turn to tell a story now?" the vampire asked giddily.
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Spike felt his eyes bug open, and then he was moving. He and Angel reached Drusilla at the same time and each grabbed one of her arms. Her eyes were trained on Willow.
"They think I can't play with my toys without breaking them," she cooed at Willow, "but you know better. I saw you in the sandbox, but you didn't have water to make the sand do what you wanted." She wagged a slim finger in Willow's direction. "No castles for you. I'm the princess."
"Dru, sweets, you don't want to leave Dev alone, do you?" Spike whispered in her ear, kissing her hair softly. He wrapped one arm around her waist and tried to guide her back the way she'd come. She didn't budge, nor did her eyes move from Willow. Fuck. He'd seen that glow in her eyes before, the one that said she wouldn't be denied.
He looked at Angel and nodded his head.
"Get in the bedroom, Drusilla," Angel ordered her, his voice hard. "Now. I'm not going to tell you again."
"Mroow, Daddy barks, but he won't bite. Maybe he should give away his teeth."
"Can you?" Spike heard Willow say, and turned to face the red-head. Her forehead was wrinkled, her eyes narrowed in the manner that Spike had come to associate with her thinking mode. Something was twisting in that clever mind. Double fuck.
"Can I give away my teeth?" Angel asked Willow distractedly, still holding Dru firmly.
"Can you play with your toys without breaking them?" Willow pushed.
"Yes, I can," Drusilla trilled, rolling her head back languidly.
Spike met Angel's eyes and saw that the souled vampire was just as lost as he was. "Willow, go upstairs," Spike hissed, but the stubborn bint ignored him.
Her countenance was no longer thoughtful, and her eyes were now a bit dazed, unfocused, as she moved closer to the three vampires. Spike swung his head around, but Drusilla's eyes were firmly planted on the floor, her lips pulled in a small smile.
"Knock it off, Dru!" Angel shouted, one hand at her throat, pushing her against the bedroom door.
"It's not her," Spike shouted. "It's not Dru."
The souled vampire blinked at Spike, then looked at Willow. Her eyes didn't have the empty, waiting gaze of someone in Dru's thrall. Angel released Dru's throat, still holding her arm tightly.
"Then, who--"
Their eyes met again as the scent assaulted their noses. Spike would know it anywhere.
"Dev," Angel whispered, his mouth hanging open.
She was daphne, their Dev. The light tang of lemon and the delicious sweet hint of honey. Purple blossoms ushered in by deep crimson berries that were poisonous even in small doses. It was Dev who had Willow in thrall, and he was damned if he knew how.
Willow moved closer, stopping just a foot in front of them. And though his mind screamed that he should get her away from Drusilla, he couldn't move. Drusilla's mood and posture had shifted. Her eyes were closed and her head lolled forward; she was trembling slightly.
"I'm trying," she mewled. "But they think I'll break the toy. Shatter her skin, melt her hair, take her eyes. I won't!"
Brazil. The destroyed remnants of Miss Edith's delicate porcelain body. The picture shifted in Spike's head until he no longer saw Miss Edith, but Willow, and he cursed softly.
"Sweetness," Willow murmured, her hand reaching out quickly to gently brush Drusilla's hair back.
Spike watched Drusilla's lower lip slide outwards in a pout. Her delicate foot stamped once, twice, before Willow lifted her hand again and took Dru's chin between two fingers, raising the vampire's head until their eyes locked.
In mind-numbing shock, Spike saw the hand in front of Dru's face, two fingers outstretched, moving close to her wide and unblinking eyes. "Be in me," Willow murmured, swinging her hand back and around until they came close to her own eyes. "Be in me."
"It's quiet now," he heard Drusilla whisper in wonder. Angel threw himself backwards, away from Dru, with a cry of pain. Spike wanted to follow, to escape this veil of sanity that had settled over his Princess. They hadn't known. Dev had never told them.
Willow smiled, her eyes soft and filled with something not Willow at all. "I'd make it like this forever if I could," she breathed.
"Of course you would," Drusilla replied immediately. "You would do anything for us, and we for you."
Spike thought it sounded familiar, as though they'd had the same exchange before and it was commonplace, rote.
"She is not a toy, and you mustn't think of her that way," Willow said firmly.
"Tell us who did this," Spike pleaded, his nose filled with Dev.
Willow didn't move, didn't seem to have heard him. She was still focused solely on Drusilla, like nothing else existed.
"She can't."
Spike looked at Drusilla. Her eyes were clear and rational, her face regretful. "Why not? Why can't she?!"
"Because she doesn't know, and because even if she did, she's not here, really. It's like a.recording. She's too weak to do more."
"Dru." That was Angel's voice, sounding tortured, despondent.
Her face softened, and she turned to Angel. "I've no time for it. She can't keep this up for much longer."
Once Drusilla was facing Willow again, the red-head continued as though nothing else had occurred. Maybe it hadn't, at least not for her, and maybe Drusilla *was* all that existed.
"I need to make sure you won't hurt her," Willow went on. "Change for me."
Spike jerked Drusilla harshly when she vamped out, pulling her away from Willow. But she tore herself from his restraining hold, her hand grasping his just briefly. "It's all right, luv. She knows what she's doing."
Willow's small hand was raised again, moving towards Dru's mouth. "Open, sweetness." When Dru had complied, Willow flicked her index finger along a fang, drawing blood. Dru remained motionless, letting the few drops of blood fall into her mouth. The daphne was gone, Spike realized. In its place was cloves and mint. Willow. "She is me. Taste me, smell me, know me. She is me."
Drusilla swallowed as Willow removed her hand. She took a step closer and swayed towards Dru, whose eyes had regained their normal madness. Then Willow pitched forward, her head tilting to the side and leaving her neck exposed.
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Angel had watched the exchange between Dru and Willow with confusion and astonishment. It hadn't seem possible that it could really be happening, that Drusilla's mind had been ironed out smoothly, that Willow reeked of Dev. Even Dru's words to him had seemed surreal, and he'd wondered if he'd been hallucinating.
But no, he hadn't been. His mind kicked into gear again as Willow fell against Drusilla. Willow's scent hung thickly in the air for a brief moment, as if amplified, then faded to its regular resonance. Angel saw Drusilla smiling with devilish delight at the neck just inches from her mouth.
Her head lowered, and Angel knew he wouldn't make it in time. Neither would Spike, who was only a few feet away from the women. Drusilla had a stunning speed to her strike that was surprising even for a vampire. Her mouth came to rest on Willow's neck, her fangs pierced the skin, her throat moved, swallowing the first taste.
.and she lifted her head, frowning. "Naughty, naughty," she said indignantly. "You are a very bad girl for offering yourself like this. Tricky. None of that."
Spike reached them, snatched Willow around the waist with both arms and sprinted across the room. Angel wrapped his hand round Dru's arm and shoved her into the bedroom. He raised a warning hand. "Stay," he growled, slamming the door shut.
He was hesitant to leave the door, worried that Dru would wander out again despite his command. Spike had moved Willow to the couch and laid her down and was crouched next to her. "Spike?"
"She's fine," Spike called out, and Angel closed his eyes in relief. It was short lived, as a high pitched keening emanated from the bedroom. "I've got her, go," Spike said quickly.
Angel entered the bedroom. Drusilla was rocking on her heels, hands tearing at her hair as she stared at the figure on the bed. The noise was coming from her, not Dev. He stepped past Dru and then stopped, horrified. Blood. Everywhere. Soaked through the sheets. Every wound seeping.
*Nonononononononononono.*
Grabbed the bowl at the foot of the bed. Spun on his heel and vamped out. Took Drusilla's wrist and tore into it. Held the bowl under it and didn't remove it was a third of the way filled. Then his own wrist. Two thirds full.
He was back in the living room and Spike was staring at him with wide eyes as Angel practically flew at him. Angel raised the bowl and Spike changed, slashing his own wrist in time for the first drop to fall into the bowl Angel slid into place.
Vaguely he knew Willow was staring at him, fear and confusion drawing the color from her face, sending tremors through her body. No time.
"Get all the blood we have," Angel growled as the bowl was filled and he made his way back to the bedroom.
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Willow was pushed back against the sofa. Spike lifted her legs and did something with the cushion under her knee so that it raised her legs. Her wide eyes followed his movements, the adrenaline rush that had resulted from fear at Spike's unexpected change in visage and bloodletting still coursing through her.
"Spike, what's going on?" she asked weakly, one trembling hand pressed against the bite. "What happened?"
"Stay there for a sec."
He was gone and back quickly, setting a first aid kit on her stomach. "Clean the bite and bandage it." He gestured to the coffee table, where two cans of soda sat. "Drink those. She only took a sip, but you're probably needing something to get the cotton from your head. Don't try to walk just yet."
A choked sound clawed its way up Willow's throat. "A sip? But I feel--"
"Not from the bite," he refuted. She saw him tense, saw his eyes travel towards the bedroom door. "Dev needed you, and she's paying for it now I wager. The caffeine'll help."
The empty haunted quality was back in his voice, his face, and Willow nodded. She heard rummage through the fridge then go into the bedroom. Bypassing the first aid kit on her stomach, she reached a shaking hand out and clumsily retrieved one of the sodas.
It took a moment to get it open, and she dribbled a good deal of it on her face as she drank it from her prone position. When she was done, most of the fog had receded and she took a deep breath and began to clean the bite mark. She noticed as she opened the kit that her right index finger was sore. Looking down she saw a small cut that resembled a paper cut and she swabbed that, too, with antiseptic.
She didn't know how it had happened. One second she'd been across the room from Drusilla, trying to figure out the best way to get the vampire to talk about her vision, and the next she'd been in Dru's arms experiencing the all too familiar pain of having a vamp's fangs buried in her neck.
Spike had said Dev had needed her, and she knew that the Amalgamated had some psychic abilities similar to Dru's. Had Dev possessed her? And what did he mean, Dev was paying for it?
The blood. Willow sat up suddenly, the first aid kit tumbling to the floor. Dev had been making progress, and she had the sinking feeling that had just changed. All that blood. Just like the first night Angel had told her about. Eyes narrowed, Willow reached for the second soda and drained it quickly.
Standing wasn't that difficult, she found out a few minutes later, and after a couple of unsteady trips around the room her balance had righted itself.
A half hour later she was at the bedroom door, knocking lightly. Spike answered, narrowing his eyes at her. "I told you not to move," he snapped. "We don't need another body to take care of, damn it."
"I'm fine," Willow dismissed. "I'm going for more blood. How much should I get?"
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he stared down at her and then back over his shoulder and nodded. "Triple what was in the fridge. Take my cell with you."
The door closed in her face and Willow mouthed a few curses. Triple. He wanted sixty bags of blood--human blood. She could only hope that the contact she and Angel had visited earlier in the day could provide it.
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Willow didn't return to Angel's until four hours later. His contact, a squirrelly looking man who was shorter than she was and twitched constantly, had decidedly not had that much blood on hand. Swallowing nervously, he'd offered to take her to get it. She'd called the vampires to find out what they wanted her to do and then let Angel talk to his contact.
The man had been pale and shaking when he'd given her the phone back, and had refused to look at her, much less talk, from that point on. Willow hadn't minded in the least. She'd been apprehensive enough about the meanderings they made through the city that it was a blessing. Foul sewers, rat infested buildings, hospital dumpsters. They'd made the rounds. And at each stop, Willow had stayed carefully out of sight of whomever--or whatever, in several instances--Angel's contact was meeting, as Angel had insisted of her.
She'd asked for help getting back to Angel's apartment, but the man had stepped back from her fearfully and shaken his head emphatically. He had, however, provided her with a shopping cart after she'd handed him a thick wad of bills from the wallet she'd pilfered from Angel's coat on her way out.
Spike and Angel were hauling the blood up the sewer ladders. Neither looked to be in good shape. They were more colorless than usual, and even seemed gaunt, though Willow wondered how much of that had to do with the dead looks in their eyes than with any actual physical changes to their features.
Angel thanked her tonelessly and took several bags of blood in his hands. "I'm going to head upstairs to the computer," Willow told him, running her hands through her hair. "Do you have emails from Dev on it?"
Dazed, Angel looked at her. "Uh, yeah. Cordy made folders."
Willow nodded and asked him for his sign-in information. Once he gave it to her, he stood there, like he was lost. Willow put her hand on his arm and looked up at him. "She needs you."
He left. The rest of the blood was sitting on the table and counters in the kitchen. Neither of the men had spoken to her about Dev's current condition, but she had the feeling that their childe's progress had either halted, or regressed completely.
Knowing that she'd be upstairs for a while, Willow set about gathering every pot and large bowl she could find in Angel's kitchen. Unsurprisingly, there weren't many. She filled them all with hot water from the faucet, then tilted her head and filled the sink itself. She put twenty of the bags in the refrigerator, and distributed the rest of them among the filled containers to warm them.
Then, gathering what she needed, she headed upstairs.
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Spike winced when he exited the stairwell and entered the brightly lit office area of the building. Downstairs, Angel had turned the lights as low as possible in the bedroom, bathing Dev in shadows and making it only a little bit easier to be in the same room with her. The only light in the rest of the apartment was the soft fluorescent bulb set above the kitchen sink. The change in illumination was harsh for his sensitive eyes.
When they'd adjusted, he saw Willow at Cordelia's desk, hunched over a keyboard. Her glassy eyes were staring at the monitor and her nimble fingers were flying over the keyboard. A half dozen soda cans battled for space on the desk with numerous balls of wadded up paper and her laptop. Her eyes flickered from the screen in front of her to the laptop screen to her right, then back again.
He didn't know how she was doing it, cans of caffeine aside. He supposed four years of helping the Slayer had gotten her used to sleepless nights, but it took its toll eventually, and Spike could tell she was at the point right now.
The shadows beneath her eyes had become so dark as to resemble bruises, and her eyes were wide in the manner of someone who was afraid to blink in case they fell asleep. Still, her fingers never faltered and for a long while the only sound in the room was the click-clack of the keyboard.
"Damn it!"
Spike started at the sudden outburst, and the subsequent slamming of Willow's hands on the keyboard. She noticed him and leaned back in the chair with a groan. "Creature of technology? She's a freaking genius."
His stomach clenched. "Can't do it?"
"I didn't say that," Willow replied, pressing her palms against her eyes. "But I'm not getting into that system of hers tonight."
Spike relaxed, purposely refusing to ask her when she might; he didn't think he'd be able to handle the answer right then. "This morning, you mean," he said instead.
Her hands slipped from her face and she squinted at her watch. Spike saw her do a double take before a quiet, "oh" slipped from her lips. It was six in the morning, and she'd probably only just realized that she'd been up for almost twenty-four hours.
"How's it going down there?" she asked a moment later, concern furrowing her brow.
"Shitty," Spike told her bluntly, running a hand across the back of his neck. "She was just as bad as when she got here, and it'll take be another day before she's back to where she was."
Willow nodded slowly, and her green eyes studied him. "You're feeding her constantly, aren't you?"
Clever of her. "Yeah. Taking a break now. Angel's making food for you." He paused. "Thanks," he said reluctantly.
She shrugged and began cleaning off the desk. "I haven't done anything yet, Spike."
Spike shook his head and stared at her. The bloody chit had hauled her sorry ass through the sewers, and who the fuck else knew where, to get them blood after being mind-fucked by an unconscious vampire and nibbled on by another. Then she'd gone ahead and warmed all the blood, saving them from having to waste time with the microwave, only to spend the next many hours trying to get access to Dev's computers. With probably only twelve hours of sleep in the last three days. All to help a vampire she'd never even seen, let alone met.
"Right," he muttered. "Come on, then. Food should be done."
She smiled gratefully at him and made her way to the staircase. Spike followed her, noticing that her movements were slow and precise, as though she'd begun feeling her exhaustion now that she had nothing to occupy her. It was a feeling he knew they were all experiencing. Drusilla had curled up next to Dev before he'd come upstairs, and been asleep within minutes. Angel would undoubtedly collapse after he finished cooking, and Spike planned on smoking a cigarette and doing the same thing.
Upstairs, Angel dished out a large helping of scrambled eggs for Willow, who ate them like a zombie. Angel sat with her at the table, and Spike leaned against the counter and lit a cigarette, and didn't hear a peep from Angel about it.
"You don't have to worry about Drusilla," Angel said abruptly.
"How come?" Willow asked, only a hint of her usual curiosity present.
Spike was the one who answered. Between Angel's unwavering tendency to be cryptic, and Willow's need to get explanations that left no unanswered questions, he thought it might be hours before it was settled and they could sleep.
"Used those gifts of hers to associate your blood with Dev."
He could see the gears of her talented mind turning as she finished the eggs and reached for her juice. Just as Angel opened his mouth to explain further, Willow spoke. "Will it work?"
"Already has," Spike reminded her, putting the cigarette out in one of the empty bowls on the counter. Then he gave in just a little when he saw Willow frown. "Drusilla may not be all souled up, pet, but she'd walk into the sun before hurting Dev. That little trick Dev pulled will make her think she's doing just that if she hurts you."
"Okay. I'm thinking later I'll need more info, but that'll do for now."
Angel stacked the dishes in the sink and Spike went into the living room. He moved the couch and the coffee table and began setting up three beds on the floor using the stacks of bedding that Angel had pulled from his closet. Willow stayed in the kitchen, and Angel checked in on the vampires in the bedroom. He emerged in a pair of sweats and padded on bare feet to help Spike finish up.
When they were done, Willow stood, staring at the makeshift beds on the living room floor. The exhaustion should have made her body lethargic, but instead she was tense. Her hands curled into fists and her eyes were wide and unblinking.
Spike went to the television and turned it on, raising the volume slightly. "Why don't you brush all that high fructose corn syrup off your teeth, huh?" he said to Willow as he sat on the couch and began slipping off his boots, watching some idiot or another report the news. "Don't need your mouth rot stinking up the room."
He heard her leave the room, and set his boots aside, catching the sweatpants Angel tossed his way.
"What's with the television?"
Spike avoided Angel's eyes and removed his shirt, not answering.
"Spike, what--"
If they hadn't been vampires, they wouldn't have heard the quiet, muffled sobs from the bathroom.
"That's what," Spike answered, jerking his jeans off and flinging them to the side. He pulled the sweatpants on and turned to look at Angel, who ran his hands through his hair and sank onto one of the beds.
"What should we do?" Angel asked quietly.
"Nothing," Spike said clearly. He snatched the remote from the end table and slid from the couch to the floor. He stretched out on one of the beds, his hands folded under the back of his head. "Don't tell her you heard, don't notice her puffy eyes, and whatever you bloody do, don't give her one of those pitying looks you've got patented, alright?"
Angel frowned doubtfully. "We can't just ignore it."
Spike rolled his eyes. "Yeah we can."
"Maybe you can," Angel bit out, "but I can't."
Sitting up, Spike glared at the other man. "Are you really this inept? 'Cause this crosses the line from endearingly awkward to just plain stupid."
Angel didn't say anything, and Spike groaned again. There were just too many stubborn fools in this building and not a single compromising one who was sensible. He cocked his head, listening. The water was running in the bathroom.
"It's what she does," he explained as though Angel was simple. "Gets rid of the stress and moves on." He was tempted to make a snide comment about Angel being used to the Slayer's melodramatic attention-getting crying jags, but figured it was way too soon to be breaking the truce. "You start trying to get in touch with her feelings, and it brings it all back. Defeats the purpose," he finished, lying back down.
"How exactly is it you know what she *does*, Spike?" Angel asked, voice sharp and pointed.
"Because, unlike you when you were helping the lot of them, I notice things non-Buffy related, you stupid git," he snapped back.
The pipes squeaked as the water shut off, and Spike and Angel retreated to silence. Willow appeared a few minutes later, dressed in her pajamas and dragging herself along like only sheer will power was keeping her going.
"Get the lights, Angel," Spike said, turning the television off and getting under the blanket. He smirked at Willow as she approached. "Come on, Red, you're in the middle."
"Goody," she drawled, lying down. "Scourge of Europe bookends. Xander will be so jealous."
"You're telling me. I've seen the sultry way he gazes at me when he thinks I'm not looking. I feel all violated," he said primly, huffing slightly in indignation.
"You should sue," Willow suggested around a yawn, burrowing under the flap of her sleeping bag.
"You set, Willow?" Angel called out then flipped off the lights at her nod.
Spike heard Angel moving through the room to his bed. Silence reigned in the room, and Spike was surprised to find that despite the bone deep exhaustion, his mind wouldn't shut the fuck up for a long, long time.
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One would have thought that the five people in Angel's place would have crowded one another, but the exact opposite was true, Willow admitted silently to herself four days later as she shut down the computer for the evening and headed downstairs.
She barely saw the trio of conscious vampires until it was time to turn in for the day, and then that was only Spike and Angel. Drusilla always shared the bed with Dev, who Willow had yet to see. Not that she was clamoring to. Three quarters of the Scourge of Europe left the bedroom looking ill, and her poor human mind didn't want to contemplate what it took to disgust them.
Neither was she all too keen on the idea of together time. Something had been swirling in the air since she'd gotten there, a something that was fraught with things unsaid and repressed, and trying to hide behind a guise of courteousness. Before this trip to L.A. she would have said no one would see the day when Spike would call Angel by his name and not insult him for an hour, much less four days. The tension was mounting, and she spent a good deal of time hoping to all that was holy that she would be well out of the way when it finally came to a head.
Which is why she was surprised and a little anxious when she exited the stairwell and found all three vampires in the same room. Willow missed a step, and openly gaped. "Uh, hi," she stammered.
The two men were across the room from one another, Spike smoking in the kitchen and seeming to be unable to remain still for even a second while the tic-tic-tic wracked the side of his face. Angel sat in the living room, in a chair that had been moved into the corner. She thought it had been moved even further into the shadows than it had already been. He wasn't brooding, though. He was glowering, and his fingers were tapping an angry staccato on the arms of the chair. Drusilla was draped across the couch, annoyance written across her pouty yet conniving features.
"Spike--"
"For the last fucking time, Dru, shut it," Spike shouted. "You're driving me bonkers, luv."
Still the gently voiced endearments in the midst of his raised voice, even with all else that was hanging in the air.
Drusilla jumped to her feet, rounding on Spike with golden eyes. "The walls are bumping me and my chest is full of dusty air."
Spike tossed his hands up. "Oh, for the love of--your lungs are empty, just like they've been for--"
"Be quiet, both of you," Angel snapped from the shadows. "You've been arguing for an hour, and it stops. Now."
"Bite me," Spike growled. "I've had it up to here--" He cut one hand across his throat. "--with your sanctimonious crap. Play another bloody tune or take a crawl through the sewers."
Willow was not the leader type. She did not take control of situations and direct their course, nor did she talk sense into people. Well, okay, sometimes she did. But mostly not. At that moment, however, she realized she had to do something to either calm them down, or distract them long enough so that she could make a break for it.
"How about we go up to the roof?" Willow proffered desperately. "We can set up that baby monitor I got yesterday and get out of the building for a little bit."
Willow saw Dru move to her, felt the cold arm wrap around her shoulders. "A bear of not-so-little brain, you are. I can clean my chest out and the boys can prowl like animals, stalking nothing but feeling better."
"Um, yeah, sure," Willow drawled, cutting her eyes in Dru's direction a bit warily. She was supposed to be safe from an attack, but since she never understood even a tenth of what the vampire was saying, her comfort level really wasn't where it should have been.
"I don't want to go up to the roof," Spike snarled, "with him."
"Oh, but Spike," Dru sang, slithering her way to the blonde, "think of the stars. Could you pluck one from the sky for me, luv? Only for me?"
Willow watched as Drusilla twisted around Spike, her hands never leaving his body and her eyes drifting open and shut as the lilting words meandered from her red, red mouth. Spike's eyes never left Dru's face as she cavorted around him, and Willow saw the softness in them, the fond indulgence that she'd never seen him offer anyone else.
"I'll pluck a dozen of 'em, Princess," he husked, tangling his hand in her hair before she shifted around again. "Only and ever for you."
"No," Dru sighed, smiling mysteriously. "But I've promised, haven't I? I remember.and no one else knows. I am always the one to remember, but I wish I wasn't."
Dru was in front of Spike, her back to him. He stepped forward and his arms slunk around her waist to hold her tightly. She leaned back, and they swayed together. Spike's face was soft, his eyes downcast, as he leaned his head against hers.
"Almost perfect," Dru murmured, and Willow saw that she was looking across the room to where Angel was sitting. "But an actor has missed his cue, hasn't he?"
And there was more movement, this time from Angel, who crossed the living room with strides that brought to mind barely contained physicality, and joined the other vampires in the kitchen. Dru laughed happily and ran her fingers along his face and then Angel stepped closer, until he was pressed against Dru.
Willow wished she could see his face, see if she could read anything on it, as one of his arms curled around both of the other vampires' waists and the other did the same to their shoulders. Spike had tensed, Willow noticed, his head lifting and an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at Angel. Then, slowly, his grip on Dru shifted until he was also touching Angel.
*Guess I shouldn't miss* my *cue*, Willow thought frantically, not sure what the heck was going on, and very sure she didn't really want to know. She fled upstairs and shut herself in the bathroom in the offices.
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Spike hadn't wanted Angel to come to him and Dru, hadn't wanted to stage a scene that had been played out many times before, more often than not also including Darla. But then he'd seen Angel's eyes, had seen that brief glimpse of the other man's self that no soul could touch, and repeated to himself Dru's earlier words: *an actor has missed his cue*. It was all a game, just pretend, and that was enough for him to include Angel in the scene.
They stood that way for a long time, Spike and Angel's eyes locked, while Dru nestled between them contentedly, almost purring.
He was vaguely aware of Willow's hasty retreat, but didn't think about it for long, as Angel had begun speaking. That look was still on his face, and now Spike could hear it in his voice. Cold steel tempered with warm fire.
"This little set-up of ours isn't working the way it should," he said coldly, his eyes running over Spike's face. "You're barely civil to me, and Dru here won't listen to a word I say. That's going to change."
"Yeah, right." He'd meant that to come out sarcastic and biting instead of low and confused, didn't think he'd do better next time, and settled for flipping Angel off.
Angel's hand was around his, tightening until Spike felt several bones break. The dark vampire's faced had hardened, though there was still that damnable warmth in his eyes that was throwing Spike for a loop.
Between them, Dru trembled.
"None of that," Angel hissed. "You're Dru's. Dru and everything she has are mine. That leaves you with no one you're allowed to mouth off to, Spike. Do you need a reminder of that?" His lips pulled up, a cruel twisting that had Spike's stomach clenching in response.
Thoughts flew through Spike's mind like a whirlwind, but none touched down long enough for him to snatch him. "Sod off," he whispered harshly, knowing it was about the stupidest thing he could say but failing to stop the words from coming.
Angel's smile widened. "So what I'm hearing is that you need a reminder, huh?"
His head moved faster than Spike could see, then Angel's tongue thrust into his mouth. It wasn't a kiss. It was Angel telling him what was about to happen. Before he'd adjusted to the intrusion, it was gone, and Spike was left tense and unsure of what the hell he was going to do.
*Angel* was not Dru's sire, and this went beyond the little game of pretend he'd agreed to play. But he was there with the two of them, and even if it wasn't old times and even if he really hadn't put his heart into the charade, there was something so tempting about it. Dev was there too, wasn't she? Just like at the end of the last time that it had been Angelus, Drusilla and Spike, without Darla and her constant bitching.
Except.that hadn't been Angelus, had it? Which, granted, explained the lack of Darla the Bitch, but not why that time had been one of Spike's more favorite memories of Angelus until he'd found out about the soul. He realized--not for the first time, but in a new way--that the only thing that had been different during that last trip had been Angelus' sudden penchant for hunting alone. Everything else had been exactly as it had always been.
This last thought, combined with his own silent admission that it was tempting, was what made him smirk at Angel and say, "Go twiddle yourself, wanker."
Spike watched as the veneer of harmlessness slowly faded from Angel. "I was hoping you'd say that."
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Fifteen minutes later, Willow pressed against the sofa in the main office, her eyes wide, and resolutely forced herself not to think about why she had just turned up the volume on the small radio on Cordy's desk until the knob wouldn't go any further.
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It took several hours for Angel to remind Spike and Dru of why they would be listening to him from now on. Time was, it had taken days, but the situation didn't allow for it. Dev had to be fed, and Willow was probably a blushing mess of nerves upstairs. Despite that, it had definitely been a reminder that Spike wasn't soon going to forget, and Angel's slight smirk let him know that the other vampire knew it. He rolled his eyes at Angel's smugness, not having the desire to dredge up the energy for anything else.
He was lying on the kitchen floor, still twitching slightly, Dru curled up between him and Angel. It had been telling, the inclusion of Dru. The last time Angelus had really been around, in Sunnydale, everything had been screwed up six ways from Sunday, thanks to Angelus' obsession with the Slayer. Angelus had reestablished dominance over Dru in the usual manner, but had virtually ignored Spike unless it was to mock him cruelly. He'd also kept Dru from Spike as much as possible, just to twist the knife a little more.
This time, though, there had been no games beyond restoring the natural order of their little "family", and Spike wasn't complaining.
He felt Dru become leaden against him, glanced down and found that she had fallen asleep. Angel touched her face, and Spike saw that he was watching her with hooded eyes. He had a good idea of what was going through the other vampire's mind.
"Do you think that Dev would--"
"No."
The hand flinched back. Dev would never introduce the sane Drusilla to Angel. Though she was reticent about a great many things, she'd never made a secret of the feelings of protectiveness she harbored for her loved ones. Of which Angel was one. Showing him what he'd destroyed would hurt him, and Dev would not allow that.
Angel appeared to shake himself free of his morbid thoughts. Well, as much as he could, at any rate. "We'll sleep in the bedroom tonight. Take Dru in. I'll call Willow and move the beds."
As Spike rose and lifted Dru into his arms, he felt a quick surge of gratitude at Angel's gesture. Dru would be distressed to wake up without them after having fallen asleep with them. Continuity worked wonders when it came to keeping her calm.
He waited while Angel found the cordless phone and called the office. Spike could hear the cheerleader's voice as the machine picked up.
"Willow, pick up, it's Angel. Willow?" A moment later, she apparently answered, because Angel continued with, "Finish up what you're doing and get some sleep. You'll have the living room to yourself tonight.
The bedding was moved and after they fed Dev again, Spike gently biting Dru to get her blood, the three of them settled down to sleep. It was the first night since he'd been in Los Angeles that Spike fell asleep without trouble.
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