Merry Christmas, Angel

by pat weakley

This is our third motherdaughter collaboration. Buffy and the Scoobies join Angel in L.A. for Christmas. Caleb returns to destroy the future by killing Dawn. Romance blooms between Dawn and Connor.

2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I

"Xander!" Fred said cheerily as she burst into his room, "Get up, already! I have an early Christmas present for you!"

"Awww, mommy, can't I sleep a little longer," Xander moaned from under his covers, "I don't want to go to school today."

"Xander!" Fred repeated, roughly pulling his covers off, "I got something to show you."

"Show me later."

"C'mon. You'll like it. You'll even love it."

"I'll love it just as much later."

"C'mon . . . "

Xander shot a bleary eyed glance at the clock on his bed table. "6:30," he groaned, "How the hell are you so cheery this early in the freakin' morning?"

"Espresso," Fred said, trying to pull Xander out of his bed, "Lots of Espresso. I'll give you some if you come with me to the lab."

Finally relenting, Xander said as he got to his feet, "All right, but it had better be good."

"It's better than good. It's great."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"That's it exactly. You'll see."

Xander shook his head, indicating his Scooby-Doo boxers, "Can I at least put on my pants?"

Fred sighed as if much put upon, "If you must."

"I must," he said, reaching for his pants.

Xander stumbled into the laboratory behind Fred who was nearly dancing with excitement. "Gary," she said, "Show Xander what he have for him."

Gary brought out a glass beaker that had something floating in it. Xander looked into the murky fluid. "Gross, it's an eye," he said with distaste.

"Yeah, It's yours. Or at least it will be. All we need to do is make sure we have matched the color of your other eye and we'll be all set to install it."

Fred lifted the beaker up near Xander's face and considered the color of the floating eye. "It's perfect," she said happily as she set it back down on the bench top.

"How do think you are going to get that thing in this?" he asked, pulling off his eyepatch and pointing at the empty eye socket.

"Hi!" Willow said, coming in from behind him and finding a perch on a nearby table.

"We're using a combination of magic, supplied by Willow," Fred explained, pointing to Willow who waved at him with a delighted grin, "And technology."

"Right," Xander said skeptically. "Are you sure you didn't put a little something extra in your espresso this morning?"

"No," Willow said, "We've been working on it all night. There's nothing to it."

"Right," Xander said again. "Could I have something a little stronger than espresso?"

"Don't be silly," Fred said with a laugh. "Here," she said, pulling out a chair, "Sit down and we'll get started."

She handed the beaker to Willow who sat it in her lap.

"Uh," Xander said uneasily, "Shouldn't there be some kind of pentagram on the floor or something?"

"Nope," Willow answered, "It's all very simple. Doesn't involve demons or anything like that." She took a deep breath as her light green eyes turned blue-black. "The words to this spell are all sub-vocal," she explained. "You won't hear or feel a thing except for a slight pop at the end. Ready?" she asked.

"Yeah," Xander replied, steeling himself.

The eye in the beaker began to rise slowly into the air as Willow's lips moved in the spell. It traveled through the air until it was level with Xander's empty eye socket. Then it turned until the sheath of muscles and nerves faced him.

With a triumphant smile, Willow said, "Bibbity, Bobbity, Boo," And blew across her fingertips, spreading what appeared suspiciously like stardust.

The eye popped into the eye socket as neatly as if it was his own. He gasped at the sudden sight. Then said, "I thought the spell was all silent."

Willow's smile became even more radiant at her success. "I thought it would add a little something."

Angel walked into the Wolfman and Hart library to find Giles and Wesley deep in study over a pile of books. Buffy stood behind Giles, looking over his shoulder. Lorne sat nearby in an overstuffed leather chair nursing a Bloody Mary.

Buffy looked up and asked, "How's Connor doing?"

"He's feeling better. He had a little something to eat, but I ordered him to stay in bed . . . "

"Ordered," Lorne said over the piece celery he was nibbling on, "Connor must still not be feeling very well if he actually obeyed an order."

Angel shrugged with a half smile. "Maybe ordered was too strong a word. Let's just say that after falling on his butt when he tried to get out of bed, he sort of saw things my way."

"Smart boy," Lorne commented, "And where's our favorite bleached blonde vampire?"

"I told him to watch over Connor in case he needed something."

Buffy frowned thoughtfully, "And he actually did what you told him?"

Angel sighed, "Okay, it seems like I can't get anything past anybody this morning. Spike volunteered."

"Sounds better," Buffy commented. "Spike seems to have a soft spot for your son."

"More like a soft spot in his head," Angel replied uncharitably. "Where's everybody else?"

Buffy checked her watch and replied, "It's only 7:30. Most everybody's still in bed. Faith never gets out of bed before noon anyway and Robin's keeping her company. And of course you know Cordelia . . . "

"Another person who's not fond of getting up in the morning," Angel agreed. "What about Fred, Willow and Xander?"

"Last I heard they were working on some kind of project," Wesley supplied looking up from his book.

"I have an eye!" Xander shouted bursting into the library. "I have two freakin' eyes."

"Oh, cool," Buffy said, pulling out a heavy book, "Now you can help us do some research."

"Well," Xander said, miffed, "Let's not all congratulate me at once."

Buffy smiled, "Sorry, Xander. I didn't mean it. I'm glad you have new eye. That black patch was starting to creep me out. I kept on expecting you to starting saying ahoy, mateys and stuff like that."

"Gee, thanks," Xander replied. He grabbed a book with a sigh. "At least now I have two eyes to read with," he said, settling down into a chair.

"Where's Willow and Fred?" Giles asked Xander.

"They're still in the laboratory," he answered, "Willow said that they're going to use the Wolfman and Hart database on its computer to see if they can find anything on Caleb."

"Ah," Wesley said, "Here it is."

"What?" Giles asked.

"The pendant that Caleb was wearing. I thought I had seen it before," Wesley answered, opening the book wider to show everyone the picture in it. "It's the symbol of the Egyptian god, Set. He was also known as Seth, Setekh, Setesh and so on. He was the god of chaos, if not outright hostility . . . "

"Ooh, he sounds mean," Buffy commented.

"Indeed, he does," Wesley agreed, "Now this is most interesting," he said, delving more into the book's text. "It appears that he was associated with thunder, stormy skies and foreign lands. And in his human form was depicted as having white skin and red hair."

"That is odd," Giles commented, "Egyptian usually illustrated male characters in their painting as having brown skin and black hair."

"That Set guy almost sounds like Anya's old boyfriend, Olaf," Xander commented.

"Olaf was from a northern Germanic tribe," Giles said, "That is thousands of miles, and centuries away from ancient Egypt. I doubt that has anything with our problem at hand."

"Okay," Xander said, "I was just trying to be helpful."

"So what does this have to do with Caleb?" Buffy asked.

Wesley frowned thoughtfully, "I'm not sure. Most likely Caleb has been brought back for some purpose and was given the pendant to serve that purpose."

"That's very helpful, Wesley," Angel said, "Do you mind explaining it in a little more detail. Maybe something we might all understand?"

"Quite frankly," Wesley replied, "I have no idea. All I can say is that the pendant is very likely the source of Caleb's power. If we can get it away from him, we may be able to defeat him."

"But how?" Buffy asked. "He has my sister. Why did he take her?"

Wesley studied the book a little more, "Ah, here it is. There is a prophecy about a key that can bring about a golden future for all mankind. If the key is destroyed, the world will be engulfed in an endless winter."

"Key . . . " Buffy said thoughtfully. "Could that be Dawn?"

Wesley nodded, "Perhaps."

"That still doesn't tell us anything about how to find Dawn, or how to destroy Caleb," Buffy said.

"There is more," Wesley said, returning to the book, "Ah," he finally said, "It mentions something about a vampire born with a soul. Most interesting . . . hmm, it says something about the union of the souled vampire and the key."

"Good, or bad?" Buffy asked.

"I couldn't really say," Wesley said.

"Angel," Buffy cried in feigned exasperation, "Make him play fair. I'm tired of all these prophecies. Can't they once say anything straight out. My brain hurts."

Angel sighed, "Is there anything else in there that help us?"

Wesley shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. And since Cordelia can only see into the future when it strikes the powers-that-be, there is no telling if we will get any help from that quarter. Those powers are most unpredictable, and like these prophecies likely to be vague at best."

"Perhaps if I read Buffy," Lorne volunteered, "I might be able to help you get a line on where our little lost lamb has gone to."

"Read?" Buffy asked.

"Sure, cupcake," Lorne answered, "Just sing me a little song, and I'll be able to get a line on your future."

Buffy nodded. Then smiled wanly, "The last time I sang it was under a magical spell. I don't know how good it'll be now."

"Don't worry," Lorne said kindly, "I'm sure you'll do just fine, with or without magic. Just think of Dawn."

"I haven't thought of anything else since last night."

Lorne nodded, then closed his eyes, "Sing."

"Silent night, Holy night," Buffy began. She sang for several minutes, her voice high and sweet, filled with longing.

No one spoke after she had finished. Lorne finally opened his eyes. "You did great. Sang like an angel . . . "

"Thanks," Buffy replied in a muted mood.

"So," Angel pressed, "What did you see?"

"I saw a church. One of those big old gothic type monstrosities people used to build. It's empty. No pews, nothing. Probably one of those ones that nobody goes too anymore. All of the windows have been boarded up, but I do see some stained glass, maybe of saints or no, now that I think of it, it looks like they might be showing the virtues like faith, hope, charity, you know."

"Do you have any idea where it might be?" Angel asked.

"Haven't a clue. L.A.'s a big city. Could be anywhere."

Angel stood up. "At least we're a little further along than we were before. Wesley , I want you set up search teams to cover the city as thoroughly as possible. Xander, I want you to go with him and Giles and help out with the search."

"Now wait a minute," Xander protested, "Since when have I started taking orders from you. Just because you're now the head of some big shot organization doesn't mean I have to do with what you say."

"Fine," Angel replied. "Stay here then." He turned to go with Wesley and Giles following him.

"Fine," Xander said, "I will." He looked at Buffy who was watching him closely, "Buffy . . . "

"Go with them," she said, "We need your help."

"I know. It's just that . . . "

"I understand, but we have to all work together. This is Angel's city. It's a lot bigger than Sunnydale. He knows what he's doing."

"Okay, Buffy, I'll work with Angel, but I'm only doing this for you and for Dawn. Angel can take a flying leap at my big toe for all I care."

"Thanks," Buffy said, giving Xander a hug, "I appreciate it."

Buffy waited until Xander had left the library before heading for her own room. Once in her room she went through her sports bag, pulling out a small crossbow and several wooden bolts.

"What'cha doing, Buff?" Faith asked, coming into Buffy's room.

"I'm going to find Dawn."

"Alone?"

"Yeah. The others are working with Angel. I can move faster alone."

"With a busted arm?"

"Sure," Buffy replied. "It's not that bad. It's almost all healed."

"How many pain killers did you take?"

"None. I swear," Buffy replied.

"Yeah, every damn day."

Buffy gave Faith a dirty look. "You're not going to stop me," she said.

"Wouldn't think of it, Buff. Just wondering if you needed a hand. Or an arm."

"Oh, funny," Buffy replied. "Think you're up to it?"

"Sure, once the floor decides to stay where it belongs."

Buffy regarded Faith for a moment, suddenly noticing how tightly the other Slayer was holding on to the door knob. "Maybe next time."

"You sure?"

Buffy tilted her head looking at Faith. "I think you lost a tad too much blood."

Faith shrugged, "I can get along just fine."

"Then take your hand off the door knob and walk to me," Buffy said doubtfully crossing her arms across her chest, wincing as she did it.

"Sure." Faith took her hand off the door knob. She wavered for a few moments before quickly catching herself on the doorjamb. "Uh, Buff, I think I might hang around here for a while. You know, in case Dawn finds her way back here."

Buffy nodded. "Good idea. You do that."

Spike walked into Connor's room, carrying a covered tray. "How are you doing, Pup?"

Connor tossed the tv remote to the end of his bed. "Fine," he replied. "I'm bored stiff watching the TV. There's nothing on but a bunch of talk shows. I never knew how twisted people could be. It makes me feel like I'm more normal than they are." He slumped under his covers, grumbling, "I'd rather be looking for Dawn."

Spike sat on the side of Connor's bed, "I know what you mean those TV shows. Being a vampire is almost normal compared to some of those blokes."

"How's the search going for Dawn?" Connor asked.

"Just fine," Spike said cynically, "Angel's got everybody organized and all that. Working in quadrants and teams, stuff like that. I think the bugger's gone insane with the straight life. I gotta admit that I miss the old moody, broody Angel of the old days. Nothing like living in an old crypt, if you ask me. These modern glass buildings give me the willies."

Spike pulled the metal cover off the tray, "Look here, I got you something. Here," he said, pointing to a sandwich, "is roast beef, rare, the only way to make it. Personally, I prefer a bit of horse radish to go with it, but I don't know about you, so I had the chef put it on the side. I also got you some chips. You Yanks call them French fries. Not that I can see what's so French about them, but anyway. I also have some soda for you. Oh, and this," he added taking out a thermos and pouring the red liquid into a mug on the tray.

"That's blood," Connor said, dubiously.

"Right you are, mate. Your old man said you have to have some to help you get your strength up."

"I'm not drinking it. I'm never going to drink blood again."

Spike lifted the mug up and sniffed it. He scowled. He forced a broad grin. "Mmm, good stuff. It'll make you grow up big and strong just like your old man."

"Gee, just what I want," Connor replied, pushing the offered cup away.

"Now, I admit it isn't as sweet as human blood, but you'd be amazed at what these Wolfman and Hart lab blokes can do with ordinary pig's blood. You can hardly tell the difference."

"I'm never drinking blood again, period. Human, animal, whatever."

"If you don't drink it, you'll get very sick. Trust me it's not fun. I've been through it." Noticing the stubborn scowl on Connor's face, Spike continued, "Look, you want to help us rescue Dawn from this Caleb. Right?"

Connor nodded, still frowning.

"All right then. There's no way you're going to get your strength up unless you drink some blood."

Connor glared at him, still not saying a word.

"You tried getting out of bed lately?"

Connor's frown deepened, but he stayed silent.

"Fell flat on your bum again, didn't you?"

Connor didn't reply, only glared.

"That's what I thought," Spike said. He handed Connor the mug, "Drink it all up like a good lad and I'll give you some candy."

"If I drink it, will you go away?"

"Anything you want, mate."

Connor quickly drank from the mug, not putting it down until it was completely empty. The last thing he was going to admit to Spike was that not only did it make him feel better, but that he also enjoyed its taste. "I did it, now go away."

"Sure, anything you say," Spike said, getting to his feet.

"Wait a minute," Connor said before Spike reached the door. "Can you tell me about Dawn?"

"You sure you got the time?" Spike asked sarcastically as he checked his watch. "I think there's some good soaps on the telly right now. Or how about Jerry Springer?"

"Oh, funny," Connor growled at Spike. "Are you going to tell me or are you just going to stand there acting like a door stop?"

"Well, if you're going to be that way, I think I have something better to do with my time. My favorite soap, Passions, is going to be on any minute."

"All right," Connor whined, "I'm sorry. Sit down and tell me about Dawn."

"Sounds good," Spike said, satisfied. "Now what can I tell you about little Bit . . . "

"Is it true that she's not really human? That she's some kind of key?"

"Well, yes and no. Physically, she's human. Everybody even remembers her growing up from the time she was a baby. But, she's also something else. Nobody really knows for sure. Take this key business, for instance. A while back, some crazy goddess called Gloria tried to use Dawn to open a d doorway between a demon dimension and this one. Buffy sacrificed herself to close that doorway and save Dawn."

"I remember hearing about that," Connor said, "But what about now?"

Spike shrugged. "No telling. I've always had a feeling that there's a lot more to that girl than what's obvious. Everybody says she isn't the key anymore. Even she says it, but I don't think so. Not by a long shot. I don't think destiny's done with her yet."

"I see," Connor thoughtfully. "Is she anything like her sister, Buffy? Buffy seems awfully bossy and all."

Spike laughed. "Buffy? Bossy? That's not the half of it, Pup. But that's what she needs to be. She has a lot on her plate, you know. What with taking care of those Slayerettes and then saving the world every time you turn around. A lot of people have had to depend on her. That would put a lot of stress on anyone. Would tend to turn anybody bossy . . . "

"Do you love her?"

"Who?"

"Buffy!"

"Oh, right," Spike said. "I don't know. I think I do. I guess I do. At least I think I did, once." Spike grew thoughtful, the shade of the dreamer, William, showing in his voice, "I don't know if anyone can truly say they love Buffy. Or at least not in the way she deserves. When I got that bloody chip in my head, all I could think of was how to destroy her without getting my brains blasted out of my head by the bloody thing. I tried to do it by dragging her down to my level. Came close to working too, especially after she came back from the dead all changed. Somewhere along the way though, I began to really love her, but I didn't know how to love her. After she rejected me, I went through a trial by ordeal as a way to get back at her. And what happened? I got my bloody soul back."

"And then?"

"And then I wound up saving the whole bloody world." Spike grimaced for a moment. "I don't how that girl does it. She brings out the best in all of us, including me and your old man."

"Nice story," Connor commented.

Spike regarded Connor very seriously. "If Dawn is anything like her sister, you're a damn lucky man."

"Wow,"Connor said thoughtfully, "I hope she does the same for me, too."

II

Buffy heard the footsteps behind her for several blocks. She recognized them, but didn't turn around. She would rather be alone. Knowing that he wouldn't give up following her, she finally turned around.

"Remember the first time you tried following me?" she challenged.

Angel smiled crookedly. "If I remember right, you kicked my ass."

"I could still do it."

Angel's eyes swept down Buffy's slender figure, "With a broken arm?"

"I've done it before."

"Would it make you feel better?"

Buffy sighed as she flopped down in nearby bus stop bench. "No." She sighed again as she gazed up into the sky. There were no stars. Only a sullen moon penetrated the hazy night sky. "It doesn't feel like Christmas," she finally commented as Angel sat down beside her.

"It never feels like Christmas in L.A.," he said.

Buffy nodded. "I wondered what it would feel like to have a normal Christmas. You know, snow, Christmas carols, dashing through the snow and all that."

Angel nodded thoughtfully, but didn't say a word.

"I'm so tired of all this," Buffy continued. "I'm tired of always fighting. Of always having to save the world. Just once I'd like to have my old life back before I became a layer. I didn't have anything to worry about except what I was going to wear the next day. I miss wandering the mall, hanging out with my friends."

Angel placed an arm around Buffy's shoulder, "I know how you feel. Sometimes the responsibility gets too great."

"I wish I could just run away," Buffy said. She shook her head. "Even that didn't work out when I tried it once. I still wound up saving a bunch of people."

"That's because you can't run away from yourself."

"But I don't want to be me. Or rather I do want to be me. I want to be plain old Buffy Summers. No super powers. No Slayer. Just regular Buffy. I want a normal life."

"It's not going to happen," Angel said solemnly. "No matter how much we wish, we have to play out the destiny we've been handed. Everybody does, from the poorest man to the richest. We deal with the hand we've been given the best we can."

"I don't want to," Buffy protested, burying her face into his chest. He had no heartbeat, no body heat to offer her, but he could still give her shelter from her fears. For a few moments all she could do was sob hopelessly. After a while, she quieted, resting against him.

Finally she looked up at him with tear-reddened eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping the remaining tears away in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to do that. I don't know what came over me."

"I do," Angel said. "Have you ever talked to anyone about how you feel?"

"No," Buffy replied, shaking her head.

"Why not?"

"I don't know." Buffy gave a little laugh that sounded harsh in Angel's ears. "That's what everybody complains about. That I don't tell them. That I don't open up to them. Riley left because I couldn't open up to him. My mother was angry at me about the whole Slayer thing. Even Willow got on my case about it . . . "

"But you can talk to me," Angel said.

Buffy nodded.

"Why?"

She shrugged, "Because I love you . . . ?" she ventured. She studied his face for a moment. The aching passion was no longer there in her heart. Somewhere it had died down to an occasional ache of regret, but it didn't hurt anymore. "No," she finally said, "That's not it." She paused thoughtfully. "It's because I trust you."

"And you don't trust the others. Not even Giles."

"I don't know," she said doubtfully. "Maybe I don't trust myself. I guess I'm afraid that if I don't keep it all in, everybody will lose their trust in me. They'll find out that I'm a, a fake . . . I don't know . . . "

Angel tilted Buffy's head toward him. "You are definitely not a fake, Buffy. You're the most genuine person I have ever met. Don't ever be afraid to let the others see that. You have to have faith in them. You have to have the faith that they will do what's right . . . "

"But . . . "

"Buffy, that's the hardest thing I've had to learn since coming out here to L.A. I can't do it all. I need to rely on others. I have to have the faith that they will do their part."

"I don't know if I can," Buffy said doubtfully.

"You can. I know you can."

"Is pretty lady feeling sad?" said a little voice.

Buffy turned around to see a small girl with long blonde curls. "I have a surprise for you," the little girl said. She giggled and started skipping away.

"Angela, wait," Angel said going after the girl.

"You know her?" Buffy asked following him.

"Yeah," he replied, "She's an angel."

"You're kidding," Buffy said.

"C'mon, Buff. Where's your holiday spirit?" he said as the girl entered a dark alleyway.

"That's my problem," Buffy said. "I can't find it."

Buffy almost ran into Angel's back when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. They had entered an entirely new world. Snow was thick on the ground under their feet and drifting through the air as large, lazy flakes. Buffy's breath formed clouds in the ice-crisp air. All around them was a strange glowing light that didn't seem to come from anywhere.

A loud cheerful voice boomed out, "I think you have found it, my child."

"No way," Buffy said in disbelief. "First Dracula, not Santa Claus. I can't believe my luck. Wow!"

Santa's laughter rolled around them like joyous thunder. "My child you are most fortunate indeed if you have had the chance to meet the legendary Prince of Darkness."

Buffy shrugged offhandedly "He wasn't that hot."

"I hope I do not disappoint you as well," Santa Claus said as he motioned for Buffy to come closer. Angel hung back, watching curiously. Santa gestured to him, "Come, my son. It is a joy to see you again."

"Why are you here?" Angel asked. "Can you help us find Dawn?"

"Yes and no," Santa replied. "I cannot give you direct help. That is not my nature, but I can give you gifts that will help you in your quest." He made a small wave with his hand and a small box appeared at their feet. It was wrapped in shiny blue paper decorated with stars, moons and globes. "The first will help you find your way. The second," he continued, again waving his hand as another box appeared wrapped in blue Hanukkah paper covered with menorahs appeared, "Will light your way. Your friend, Willow, will know what to do with it when the time is right. The last," again he waved his hand as the last gift, a flat box decorated in clocks and doors appeared, "must not be opened until Christmas day."

"But," Buffy protested, "Can't you give more to work on?"

"No, my child, that I cannot do. It is up to you to find your own Christmas miracle." Santa placed a finger beside his nose and nodded. As he faded away, he gave one further hint, "Remember, only Faith can save you."

Buffy's jaw dropped. "What?" she said turning to Angel. "What did he mean about that? What's so special about Faith? What in the world does he mean, only Faith can save us."

"I don't know," Angel said, "I'm as puzzled as you are."

"Why can't these magical types ever come out and say what they mean? They always use double talk and hints and riddles. Why can't they for once just come out with something straight, like, say, take the pointy thing and stick it in the bad guy." Buffy slapped Angel's arm in frustration. "Arrghhh," she growled as she stomped out of the alleyway. She turned back to Angel who stood where he was rubbing his arm. "Are you coming or not?" she demanded.

"I don't know," Angel said, "Are you going to hit me again?"

"Arrgghh," Buffy screamed to the sky before stomping away.

"Okay," Angel muttered under his breath as he followed Buffy, "Since when have Slayers began growling . . . "

III

Connor looked over to Spike who was comfortably sprawled in the chair next to his bed. "That was a good movie," he said, turning off the TV with his remote.

"Yeah," Spike said, "I always like 'It's A Wonderful Life'. It makes you wonder about how things can be different if life took a different path." Spike reached over for the remote. "Miracle on 34th Street is on TNT," he said. "I always like watching that one, too."

"Naw," Connor said, "I'm feeling kind of tired."

Spike turned the TV on, "I'll put the sound down real low so as not to disturb you."

"Couldn't you see it in your own room? The glare from the TV will keep me awake."

"Love to, Pup, but your Dad told me to stay right here and keep on you."

Great, Connor thought. He had other plans for the night besides being babysat by Spike. Finally an idea occurred to him. "Uh, what happened to your coat? Did you forget it at that restaurant?"

"Bugger," Spike said, slapping the heel of his hand to his forehead, "I knew I was missing something. What with worrying about you and all, I forgot all about it."

"It's not too late to pick up tonight. They should be open for at least another hour," Connor offered helpfully.

"Right you are, Pup," Spike said, "But I can't leave you alone. Your Dad said . . . "

"Since when have you begun doing what my father tells you?"

"Since he promised to break all the bones in my body and burn them," Spike answered.

"Really?" Connor teased.

"What do you think?" Spike growled.

Connor frowned. He had to think of a way out.

"Besides," Spike continued, "I got a soft spot for you, lad. You remind me of myself when I was newly made a vampire. Always needed somebody keeping an eye on me. Wouldn't want you to get it in your head to start wandering around the city and all that."

"You'd only be gone for a few minutes," Connor suggested. "It's not like I'm in any shape to go wandering around like you said."

Spike considered for a moment. "I don't like leaving you alone. But," he said, weakening, "It's going to be only for a few minutes. Half an hour, tops."

"I heard that they give stuff away when it's not claimed after a few days," Connor said helpfully.

Spike nodded, making up his mind. "All right. I'll do it."

"Good idea," Connor said, trying to hide his smile of triumph.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Your medicine."

"Medicine?"

"Right. It'll help you sleep. Got to get your rest so you can get better."

Damn, Connor thought.

"Here you are," Spike said pouring out a strong painkiller into a spoon and handing it to Connor. "C'mon," he said, "It tastes good. Just like sour cherries."

Connor rolled his eyes, but took the medicine without a word. He grimaced from the medicine's strong taste. "Yummy," he said sarcastically. "Got any poison as a chaser?"

"Sorry, fresh out," Spike replied, matching Connor's sarcasm. "I'll get you some on my way back."

"Ha, ha," Connor said. He was already starting to feel drowsy.

Spike tucked Connor into his covers. "Rest now. I'll be back in a spot, little Pup," he said with a gentleness that surprised even him.

Connor floated out of a deep sleep feeling very cold. He pulled his covers up over his ears against the sudden chill, burying himself into them more deeply. He felt his bed move under a weight. It felt like some large animal was crawling up on his bed. What the . . . ? he thought. Above the creaking of his mattress he could hear the gentle chiming of bells. Suddenly a cold wet nose pushed itself under the covers and into his face.

"Ahhhh!" Connor screamed rolling off his bed. He scrambled for a knife in his bed stand. Turning to face his attacker, Connor found instead a white wolf regarding him solemnly with ice blue eyes. Around its thick furred neck was a collar of silver and gold bells and green holly. The wolf shook itself, making the bells ring merrily.

It walked over to Connor who stood dumbstruck in front of the window that had opened while he was sleeping. The wolf stood up on its hind legs, resting its front legs on his shoulders. It looked directly into his eyes and howled mournfully. Connor didn't know what to do, but deciding that the wolf meant him no harm, dropped his knife to the ground. The wolf dropped back to all fours and nosed the knife. Then it walked over to the wall where Connor had his favorite weapons displayed. Again the wolf rose to its hind legs. It pawed at the jeweled dagger that Connor had shown Dawn.

Connor lifted the dagger from its mount. He turned it around in his hand. It meant something to the wolf, but what? The wolf nosed the hilt of the dagger. Connor studied the hilt. On it were the words, Faith, Hope and Love.

The wolf howled, then launched itself through the open window. Connor followed it out and through. The next roof was several floors down, but he was now strong enough to easily follow the wolf with both his eyes and his nose. As he trotted after the wolf, Connor felt the trappings of civilization fall away from him. He was his true self, a creature of the night. The concrete forest of L.A. was his to roam at will.