82

Unraveling the Threads

"I'm not singing," Angel stated flatly. Aside from the obvious, he didn't really want to know why he'd just destroyed the closest thing he had to a real family.

"I beg to differ, Angeleyes." Lorne leaned back against the door and folded his arms across his chest. "Because this little green demon isn't budging an inch till you do."

"Don't you think you're shutting the barn door after the horse has run off?" Angel asked pointedly. "The damage is already done. Rose is left with the kids, and Spike is..,"

"At my place," Lorne interrupted. "He didn't go far, and I don't think he will. For the moppets if not for her."

"I hadn't thought of that," Angel admitted. He hadn't taken the twins into consideration. He hadn't taken a lot of things into consideration before he'd gone and ruined the lives of people he cared..,

"Stop that," Lorne ordered, breaking in on his train of thought. "Something's going on here. Something that pushed you and the blossom into each other's arms."

Angel just looked at him. The idea sounded too tempting to be true. An outside force rather than inner desires goading them into the contact. He shook his head. Too easy, too good to be true.

"Listen," Lorne snapped, out of patience. "I've spent the past week feeling sorry for myself. And you know what, big guy? The only thing it buys you is one hellacious hangover. So quit brooding and start singing."

&&&&&&

Spike hadn't completely drunk himself oblivious yet, and for some reason, he felt a compulsion to pull out his wallet. Started flipping through the pictures. Watching his beautiful children grow from infants to the energetic toddlers they were now. He had a wrenching feeling in the center of his chest. Hadn't been away from the kids this long since they'd been born. No matter what happened between him and Rose, they were still his kids. He was starting to reach the maudlin stage of drunk.., again. And when he got to the picture of him and Rose together, he flung his bottle across the room, unwittingly smashing not only it, but also the picture tube of Lorne's t.v. He stared at the picture for the longest time. He'd taught her how to be human, taught her about emotions, taught her about love. All so she could take it and give it to Angel. He didn't even notice that his face was wet with tears.

&&&&&&&

"Do you recognize this woman?" Wesley cut right to the chase, holding out a print-out of a picture of Drusilla from one of his sourcebooks.

The 'gypsy', paled, and shook her head vigorously. "No," she muttered, perspiration breaking out on her forehead. "I haven't seen her. What makes you think that I'd still be alive after seeing a vampire?"

"I didn't say she was a vampire," Wesley pointed out. "Although as a matter of fact, she is. And since you can't tell from the picture, I can only assume that it's because you have met Drusilla."

"No." The fortune-teller was even more emphatic. "I've never seen her. Never. Please leave."

"She threatened you, didn't she?" Wesley guessed. It really wasn't that much of a stretch. "I can grant you protection, a safe place to stay until she's been dealt with. But I need your help."

"She has the sight," the witch hissed in desperation. "She'll know if I'm helping you. She's crazy."

"I know," Wes replied calmly. "And since you've already spoken to me, how do you think you're going to be able to convince her that you haven't told me what I want to know?"

The seer's eyes widened in horror. Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. "What will you do to me if I don't help you?" she asked fearfully.

"Not a thing," the Watcher announced serenely. "But then again, I won't have to. Once Drusilla decides that you're more of a liability than an asset, you'll get your just deserts anyway. Why should I bother?"

"You really can protect me from her?" The terror came off the woman in palpable waves that even a human could feel.

"I wouldn't have offered if I couldn't deliver," Wesley promised. "I want you to gather together everything you used for your spell, and the spell itself. Then, I'll take you to the safe place and you can tell me everything."

She was already up and stuffing things into a dilapidated carpet bag. "Anything you want to know," she babbled. "All the spells, all the secrets, anything."

"Just make sure that you do," Wes warned. "Or else I'll turn you out onto the street for Drusilla to find. Your spell has done a great deal of damage, and you're going to help me find a way to undo it."

&&&&&&

Fred was just about finished with her solitary lunch when Harmony joined her, and plopped down into Rose's seat.

"Okay, give," she demanded. "I want to know what's going on that's making everyone so crazy."

Fred stared at her in goggle-eyed surprise. She knew they'd been pretty discreet, and it had happened over the weekend. Nevertheless, she was surprised that the grapevine hadn't produced an ocean of speculations. "You've got to promise me that you'll keep this to yourself, Harmony," she cautioned. "It obviously hasn't gotten around yet, and it would probably be best if it didn't."

"You think?" Harmony asked sarcastically. "I can tell it hasn't gotten around, the gossip usually does make it to me eventually. But I think I'm going to die if I don't find out why Rose isn't talking to anyone and why the boss has himself locked in his office. And why Lorne looked ready to break down the door to see him."

"Lorne's here?" That was news to Fred. As far as she knew, he hadn't made it back to work yet.

Harmony nodded. "And either he was very, very sick last week, or you really should have let me slap that bitch around. He looks terrible. I think he's been drinking. Actually, I know he's been drinking. A human could smell it on him."

"Poor Lorne," Fred murmured sympathetically. "I'm starting to think there's some kind of curse on this whole place. It seems like everyone is getting their hearts broken."

"Everyone as in Lorne and who else?" Harmony inquired. "C'mon, Fred. Dish."

&&&&&&&

"You've got to eat something," Oz said firmly. "Your bodies are busy growing, they need the energy."

"We're not hungry, Oz," Ariel said mournfully. They'd spent most of the morning reading the spell book, and still nothing had struck a chord.

If Ariel was sad, though, her brother was angry. Since he was on his sister's side, he couldn't take it out on her, so he lashed out at the only other person available. "Don't boss us, Oz," he growled. "You're not our daddy."

"I'm not trying to be," Oz replied calmly. "But it is my job to take care of you. And to be fair, it does involve a certain amount of 'bossing'. So, here's the deal. Either you sit down and eat some lunch, or you can go straight to your nap. Your call."

Ariel looked aghast, but Alaric was still defiant. "Won't go," he declared, bottom lip stuck out. "You can't make me."

Oz sighed. He knew the kids were going through an emotionally traumatic experience, but as he'd pointed out, they were at a stage when their little bodies were in an almost constant state of growth. They couldn't afford to skip the occasional meal the way an adult could. "Fine," Oz replied. He picked up one child under each arm and started carrying them towards their room.

"Wait," Ariel squealed. "I'll eat my lunch, Oz."

Alaric glared at his sister for turning traitor on him, and at Oz for just being so much bigger than they were that he was able to impose his will on them. "Okay," he muttered sullenly. "Put me down. I'll eat the bloody lunch."

Oz was too relieved to scold him for swearing.

&&&&&&

Rose looked at the clock again. Was this how the rest of her life, however long, was going to be? The day seemed like it had lasted forever. She wasn't sure what was worse, sitting here in her office, feeling like she was in solitary confinement, or going home to the reproachful looks she imagined the children were giving her, then spending nights that lasted an eternity, alone in a bed that was meant for two.

She gritted her teeth and got back to work. She had to do this. She still had responsibilities. She had to take care of her babies. Somehow, it suddenly seemed like a lot bigger job than it had before. Less of a joy, and more of a chore. She still loved her children, but the duties seemed to weigh more heavily on her now that they were hers alone. Ever since she had ruined everything. But she deserved it, she thought. She deserved it all. The looks the twins gave her, the feeling of the weight of the world on her shoulders, even the piercing, unending pain in her heart. The words on her computer monitor started to blur, as the barriers she'd built around her emotions began to erode. How could she have done what she'd done? How could she do such a thing to Spike? And why hadn't the others told her just how painful it could be, being human? Or explain just what pain was, sensation, like emotions had been unknown to her. If she had only known...,

"I would have done it anyway," she whispered through the tears. "I would have done it. For Spike."

&&&&&&

Focus on the images, thought Lorne, try not to hear all the sour notes, the way he's abusing the music, just focus on the images.

"'No pipe did hum, no battle drum did sound its dread tattoo. But the Angelus bells o'er the Liffey's swells rang out in the foggy dew'." Angel stopped and looked expectantly at the empath. "Was that enough?"

Lorne rubbed his throbbing head, right between the horns. "I think so," he muttered. "All I'm getting from anyone so far is bits and pieces. A little from you, a little from the munchkins. Spike won't sing, and Rose can't. It might help if I had some idea who that dark haired woman I saw during the kid's reading was."

Angel had completely forgotten that Lorne had missed out on that particular piece of excitement. "Drusilla? You saw Dru when you read the kids?"

"Who is Drusilla?" Lorne asked cautiously. "Because I gotta tell ya, I saw her in your reading too. And this is going to sound really weird, but I could swear that she was holding a doll."

"That's Dru," Angel confirmed. "And she was. She's crazy, completely and totally insane."

Lorne went a slightly paler shade of green. "You still haven't told me how you know who she is," he remarked. "Or how you know so much about her."

"I'm the one who drove her crazy," Angel replied. "Or rather, Angelus did, if you want to be picky. And then I turned her, and she turned Spike. They were lovers for over a century. She showed up in town last weekend. She wants Spike back."

Lorne had been trying to resist the siren call of the bar, but that last little bit of information had been just one bit too much. He started to pour out a moderate amount, strictly for medicinal purposes, then thought, to hell with it. Screw the hair, he'd take the whole damn dog. He had the glass half-way to his mouth, when a hand covered it.

"No," Angel said firmly. "I think we're both done wallowing in it, Lorne. Now it's time to get some answers. And try to straighten this mess out."

Lorne sighed and gave the drink a last, loving look before relinquishing it. "Okay," he said. "So, what's the plan of action?"

&&&&&&

It had taken Rose a while to regain her composure, and get her mask back in place, but she had done it. Back to work then. She focused on the task at hand with single-minded concentration, and didn't even notice the door to the office open.

She almost jumped completely out of her chair when the gold pen that had caused so much trouble landed in the middle of her desk.

"I believe that belongs to you, doesn't it, Rose?" Wesley asked. He had a strangely dressed woman with him that Rose had never seen before.

"You know it does, Wesley," Rose replied. After all the troubles it had inadvertently caused, she wasn't sure she wanted it back now. "You're the one that bought it for me. Where did you find it?"

"That is a rather long story," he replied. "And there are still a few more things I need to find out first. But we're going to get this mess solved, Rose. I promise." He took another look at her and noticed the tear-streaks on her face. "I promise," he repeated.

"Which mess?" Rose asked in confusion. "Drusilla? Or what happened with..," She suddenly seemed to lose her voice. Right now, she couldn't even bring herself to speak Angel's name.

"All of it," Wes replied. "It's all part of the whole, Rose." He saw from the expression on her face that she couldn't quite let herself believe him. Poor girl, he thought. She was having a rough time of it. He'd like to send Fred to spend the night with her, just to keep her company, but he was going to be putting her in charge of tending to the witch. But he didn't like the thought of Rose all alone with no one but the children for company. She needed someone to help her through this until they could get everything settled. He picked up her phone. "Harmony? Do you think you could spend the night with Rose and the children? Yes, she could use a hand right now. Yes, I did know that, but perhaps you'd better not talk about it. Because." His voice took on an exasperated edge. "It upsets her. I am not yelling, Harmony. Do you think you can handle it, or should I just find someone else? Thank you." He hung up, and turned back to Rose. "Harmony will stay with you tonight, Rose. I don't think you should be alone." When he saw that she was about to protest, he added. "Alone with no one but the children."

"I can take care of my babies," Rose said. It was meant defiantly, but it didn't make it out sounding that way.

"You can hardly take care of yourself now," Wesley said softly. "Let your friends help you, Rose. That's what we're here for."

&&&&&&

As the sun began to set, things started becoming clearer, sharper. "So that's why I couldn't find him," Drusilla murmured. "Poor Spike has been drinking, Henrietta. My darling boy is all broken-hearted." She straightened her dress, then did the same for her doll. "Let's go find him and kiss it and make it all better."