Disclaimer:
Nope, still not mine. Joss's and ME's. Hope they don't mind me playing with them.
Summary:
Everyone is working to help Angel and Spike overcome their puppet status, whilst searching for more information regarding the threat to Fred.
-
Education
Chapter 9
Angel pulled out his mobile to call Fred. His clumsy, felt fingers jabbed ineffectually at the keypad.
"Piece of useless crap!" He ranted and threw it to the ground in frustration."
"Ooh. Who's a Mister Grumpy Pants?"
"Spike, you talk like a frigging puppet one more time and I'll rip your head off."
"Wonder if I'd poof into dust or whether we'd just be able to sew it back on again?"
Angel eyed his neck speculatively, Spike caught the look.
"Oy! Just thinking out loud."
"I can't call anyone, I'll have to drive. Probably best if we stick together, so if you'll just be quiet – let me concentrate."
Spike climbed in and for once didn't bother arguing about who should take the driver's side. He watched as the LA night life passed by, changing from the desolate studio lots, to bright lights, noisy traffic and seething humanity.
"You realise they're hooting their horns at you?" Spike commented. "Why are you driving so slowly? This journey is going to take all night."
"Yeah well. Stupid puppet hands won't grip the steering wheel properly so I've got to take it slowly." Angel grouched.
"Tell me about it, can't have a smoke without burning a hole in my hand. It's really starting to piss me off."
"I am way beyond pissed. I'm gonna be scaring up some answers when we get back."
"Not so much of the scaring, I'm thinking."
"What?"
"Face it, at the moment, you couldn't intimidate a mouse. You're a puppet. You're...cute, with cute sticky up hair. And I did not say that. Ummm...do I still look scary?"
Angel looked at him.
"Well try sticking your nose back on, perhaps that would help."
"My nose comes off?" He felt his face frantically.
"My sodding nose comes off! I really hate this. Fix me!" He demanded.
-
Gunn had his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up and a couple of dots of some reddish brown substance marring the pristine white of his shirt.
Wesley looked up as he entered the office.
"Did you find the doctor?"
"In the end. As we thought, he'd already cleared his desk. So, got an address from Personnel and managed to catch myself a little fishy just as he was about to skip the pond."
"Good. Is he here?"
"Yeah. I've already had a little talk with him. You know, he honestly thought that when I threatened him I was talking about lawsuits?" Gunn sounded incredulous. "I taught him the errors of his way."
"I take it you persuaded him to talk?"
"You 'take' right, man. It's some story but I got a name out of him. Illyria. Apparently Illyria was one of the Old Ones and they were planning to bring him...her...it back. I tried to discover who 'they' were, but he reckoned all contact was made anonymously, using code names. But he did say that the person in charge of the op was here, at Wolfram and Hart."
"Well, at least that's something to go on. I want all other projects put on hold, researching this Illyria and any reference to the Old Ones is now our top priority. We need to find who's organised this so get Lorne in, he's got a long night ahead of him. I want every member of staff singing."
"I'm on it." Gunn hesitated. "So are we alright then? Me and you?"
Wesley put his glasses back on as though placing a physical barrier between them, and looked Gunn clearly in the eyes.
"You know, I now understand exactly how Angel felt when I took, Spike. Frankly, I'm astonished that we're still alive. So ask me again, at the end, when Fred is safe, maybe then I'll be as forgiving as he is. Meanwhile, we work together, like Angel said." They sat in silence for a while, contemplating their bizarre situation.
-
"I haven't got time for this." Angel gestured at his puppet body. "I need to find out what's happening with the kids, me and you need to talk and then there's Fred.""Fred? Is she ok? Don't tell me the bloody git did it!"
"You know?"
"One of my first visions ... half thought it was a bad dream, one nightmare in many, but I warned him anyway."
"You warned Gunn? Huh. Could have warned us."
"If I'd known...but I didn't, not for sure."
"He told us what he'd done; we're working on fixing it."
"Angel? I'd do anything for that girl. If I can help..."
"Yeah, I know, I appreciate it." Angel replied his voice thickening slightly.
"We'll save her."
"I know we will. I can't lose her too."
They approached some traffic lights.
"Do want to go back to the slayer house or back with me?"
"Well, I'll be damned if I'm letting the bints see me like this and I'll have to cancel tomorrow's training anyway, they'll knock the bloody stuffing out of me. Literally. I'll go back with you."
The Wolfram and Hart building was quiet and they walked quickly up to Angel's office without being seen.
"I'll get Fred up here; she's working late on this thing."
They both looked at the telephone in bemusement.
"A pencil." Angel said.
"Yeah, good idea. Write her a note and then run down and deliver it." He wanted to roll his eyes but couldn't.
"No." Angel grabbed a pencil and used it to punch in Fred's extension.
"Okay...Clever Clogs."
"Remember, puppet talk. Head goes."
Spike made the gesture of a zipped up mouth.
Angel directed his attention back to the phone.
"Fred..."
"Oh, hi, Angel. Listen, about the epidemic, it might not be mystical after all."
"Do you think you could— "
Fred interrupted him.
"Knox found a systematic, endocrine dysfunction, common with all the children, similar to the effects of an obscure rain-forest pathogen—"
"Fred..."
She continued to talk over Angel.
"...So I put a call in to the C.D.C., And..."
"Fred!" Angel finally shouted.
Fred stopped talking, and Angel spoke in a softer voice, but couldn't entirely mask his irritation.
"Believe me, it's mystical. Whoever is still here, Wes, Gunn, Lorne, get them up here now."
He hung up.
"I don't want them to see me." Spike said unhappily.
He looked so pathetic; Angel felt sorry for him and did his best to reassure him.
"It's ok Spike, we'll face them together."
Fred poked her head around the door. Angel was sitting in his chair, with his back turned away from the doorway.
She entered the office closely followed by Gunn, Wesley and Lorne.
"You sounded weird on the phone. Is there a problem?"
"Oh, there's a problem."
He turned around in his office chair so that the gang can see him in puppet form.
Gunn stepped back.
"Whoa."
"Angel? Is that...you?" Wesley asked as he inspected the puppet curiously.
"Oh, my God!" Fred exclaimed rushing to his side. "Angel, you're...adorable!"
She bent over and examined Angel's new form excitedly. "Oh, but the little hands! And the hair..."
She couldn't resist petting his hair.
"Hey! You're fired." Angel snapped.
Lorne breezed in.
"Sorry I'm late, gang." He noticed Angel. "What's with the big... puppet?"
Angel looked down at his hands.
Wesley took pity on him.
"Tell us, Angel, what happened?"
"I'm not sure. I went over to Smile Time last night, met up with Spike and I think their office is under some kind of spell. We met this guy with a towel over his head, and something exploded! I woke up like this. Ugh."
"Spike was with you? Is he affected as well?"
"Yeah."
"Where is he?"
Angel made a downward motion with his head.
Wesley shook his head, not comprehending.
Angel sighed.
"He's under the desk."
"He's...? Uh...Spike why don't you just come out?" Wesley asked softly.
"Sod off."
"Why won't he come out?" Lorne asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"He's lost his nose." Angel replied sadly.
They all looked at each other desperately trying to keep their laughter contained. Gunn snorted and tried to turn it into a cough.
"I heard that! And I'm not coming out."
Fred came forward and knelt next to the desk well.
"Hey, Spike. You're alright; I'll make you a new one."
"Yeah?"
"Promise." She smiled and led Spike out by his little felt hand.
Everyone shifted uncomfortably.
"Clearly some sort of hex... or a—a powerful warding magic."
Lorne shrugged, "Maybe it's some type of puppet cancer."
Angel gritted his teeth
"We do not have puppet cancer! Come on, guys. This is a serious situation. We're puppets, and there are children's lives at..."
He suddenly looked at the clock.
"Hey, it's Smile Time!"
He picked up the remote control and started grumbling as, once again, buttons defeated him. He began to beat it on the table, becoming increasingly petulant and panting in temper.
Everyone stared at him in amazement.
"What?"
"This transformation may have altered your stress-response mechanism." Wesley surmised.
"What?"
"He's saying that you and Spike have the proportionate excitability of a puppet your size." Gunn translated.
"No. Spike's always like that."
Fred left, to ensure she got the episode recorded for later analysis.
"Anyway, how are you getting on with the Fred thing?"
Spike turned to Gunn.
"I warned you, I mean how much clearer could I make it? You really are a brainless git. No wonder they chose you for the intellect boost."
"You can't call me anything that I haven't already called myself."
"You wanna bet?"
Angel was interested to note that, even in puppet form, Spike could still raise one eyebrow.
"That's enough you two. Just tell us you've got some good news."
"We do have some encouraging news." Wesley said. "But what exactly did Spike mean about warning Gunn?"
"I didn't tell you how I found out that it was Fred they were after. It was Spike, he told me." Gunn admitted.
"Really and how exactly did you know?" He asked turning to Spike.
"It came to him in a dream." Gunn replied for him.
"Didn't it strike you as remotely suspicious? Lorne has spent the night looking for our traitor, don't you think this might have been classed as relevant information?"
"You what?" Spike exploded indignantly. "You think I...?"
"Be quiet Spike. I did not give you permission to speak."
"Wesley, you've got it wrong."
"You're blinded to him, Angel and I suggest you keep your distance."
"Wes, listen to me. He's a seer. Cordelia passed the visions on to him. Its how he knew to find me at the studios last night."
"Is that what he told you?"
"Yes." Spike replied coldly. "And if you want to take issue with it then you can take it up with me. Here. Now."
"You're a puppet, Spike."
"I am a killer vampire puppet. Percy. You think you can intimidate me? And for your next trick, you're what? Gonna teach your Grandmother to suck eggs?"
"Don't push him, Wesley. He's soft but incredibly strong."
Spike shook his head.
"Please don't help me anymore, Peaches."
"What?"
"You make him sound like a roll of toilet paper." Gunn said.
Spike let out a growl.
"But quality toilet paper." He quickly amended.
"For God sake! We're working to find out who's trying to kill Fred. And you're acting like you're on the bloody Muppet Show. At least you two have an excuse; your emotional reactions have been screwed. Gunn, could you at least concentrate on the problem in hand. Spike, I'm taking a leap of faith here and accepting you have visions, simply because such a lie would be far too convoluted for you. So, would you please take me through your vision, we may be able to glean some clues. And in future can we share all the relevant information relating to a case?"
They nodded, all looking suitably chastened.
"Right, Spike."
"There wasn't much. Gunn signed something and got zapped with his booster. Then Gunn and Knox were arguing, there was this old looking sarcophagus between them and somehow I knew it was now empty. Knox produced a bit of paper and told Gunn, 'it's your fault, you signed it.' The next thing I see is Fred in her death throes and suddenly her soul has gone, there's nothing left of her. Just an empty shell of a body."
"Why were they arguing?"
"Don't know...I think they were blaming each other for her death. I suppose Knox must have accepted the sarcophagus into the lab but it was Gunn who got it through customs. Strange, Knox didn't seem upset when he waved the paper at Gunn. He seemed...smug."
"That does tend to be his normal demeanour so I wouldn't read too much into that. You say there was nothing left of Fred, not even a soul."
"Yeah."
"This doesn't make sense. Who would hate Fred enough to destroy her soul?"
"Not hate. A source of energy?" Gunn speculated.
"That's possible." Wesley agreed. "A soul is an extremely powerful catalyst."
Angel thought about the rituals he knew.
"It's mainly used in life for life exchanges, that's why that sort of magic is based around a sacrifice, partly the life force but mainly the soul."
"And they are trying to bring back this Illyria, so I'm thinking that they plan to burn up Fred's soul to achieve it." Gunn concluded.
"There are far too many unknowns, we need some concrete information." Wesley frowned. "Lorne, how are you getting on?"
"I'm working on my side of it." Lorne said rather tiredly, this was really taking its toll. "And I still have hundreds of more to listen to, so I'm going to get back to it. Really, is it too much to ask to have one employee who can hold a tune, or is being tone deaf a prerequisite for employment here?" He complained as he walked out the door.
"I'll join you, I'm curious as to Knox's part in the vision. I want to be there when he sings."
"Hang on. I have to phone Giles, so you may as well talk to him, get his lot researching this too."
-
Giles answered the phone.
He looked slightly relieved.
"Spike, where are you? Are you alright?"
He listened intently.
"A puppet? Well, I'm sure we all feel like that sometimes and you even more so. What with the Senior Partners and the Powers That Be. Then your experiences with the First last year I can quite see..."
"You're made of felt and you've lost your nose? I see. I haven't got time for this, Spike. You should really know better. I suggest you call me again when you're sober." He hung up the phone.
He was disappointed. To think he'd actually started to consider Spike as a, more or less, mature and trustworthy individual.
The phone rang again.
"Spike, I really...Oh. Wesley."
"An actual puppet?"
"Good heavens."
"I see..."
"Oh dear. Yes, very distressing for them."
"If that's what he wants then, of course, I won't say anything."
"Fred? I've never actually met her but anything I can do to help."
"Illyria? No, I don't recall and I'm afraid I have very few books available to me but I do still have some useful contacts and I will certainly find out what I can."
"Yes, nice speaking with you too. I will certainly do my best. Please do give my sympathies to Spike and Angel."
"Oh. Could you ask Spike where he left my car this time?"
He grabbed a pencil and began to scribble on the pad next to the phone.
"Yes, I've got it"
"Goodbye."
He took off his glasses and frowned at them.
"Giles. Is everything ok?" Buffy asked.
Giles shook his head.
"Do you know? I genuinely believe this world is insane."
"After everything we've been through, you're what? Coming to that conclusion now?"
"Yes. And when you put it like that I can see I've been incredibly stupid. Anyway, Spike, he's...umm...investigating something with Angel and asked if you would mind taking the class today?"
"No probs. But it probably wouldn't hurt them to have a bit of downtime."
"Whatever you think fit." He replied.
-
The Smile Time video was playing in the background, it was currently being run through filters and the results were colour coded and automatically recorded and analysed. Fred's attention was focused on the squirming puppet in front of her.
"Sit still, Spike or don't blame me when you're all lopsided."
Spike immediately sat statue-like in one of the lab chairs, whilst Fred leant over him.
"I'm using adhesive because I was never that good at needlework." She shrugged. "It'll hold far better than my stitching that's for sure."
She finally decided she was happy with the placement and pressed it firmly into position.
"There we go. Perfect."
"Thanks, luv. I appreciate it."
He looked at her as she gave a slightly wobbly smile.
"You ok then?"
"Yeah...No...I don't know. I'm not stupid, I know everyone dies eventually but I'm not ready. I don't want to die, Spike."
Spike took her hand.
"Not gonna happen, luv, believe me. Not for a long, long time. I mean, what would I do without you?"
"Yep, anytime you need parts and appendages sticking back on, I'm your girl."
"You're my girl anyway and us vamps don't easily give up what belongs to us."
"I think, actually, you'll find she's my girl." Wesley said, catching the tail end of the conversation and putting an arm around her.
"And how long did it take you discover that? Are you sure you want him, Fred. He's not exactly the brightest streetlamp on the block."
Fred grinned happily.
"I'm sure. At least it didn't take him a hundred years to find out that he cared."
"Ouch! You'd better watch that kitty, Percy. She's got claws."
"I can assure you, I'll be watching her for the rest of our lives."
"Now isn't that a sight for sore...ears." Lorne smiled. "Hi Pumpkin, we're doing your department next, if that's ok?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"Thanks. By the way. Nice nose."
"I'll give him some moral support." Wesley said walking off with Lorne.
"Is it ok?" Spike asked trying to peer down at his new nose.
"It looks great."
"Where did you get it from anyway?"
She pulled out a scarf, blue with pink flowers, now sporting a hole where one of the pink flowers had been.
"You ruined it? For me?"
His puppet emotions overcame him and he buried his head affectionately in Fred's shoulder. She hugged him back and tangled her hand in the white strands of his hair.
A rather strident song cut through the air.
"Breathe on me, breath of God, Fill me with life anew ..."
"Enough." Lorne called.
Spike disengaged himself from Fred, rolling his shoulders and striking a more macho stance as Wes and Lorne came towards them.
"I'm telling you there was nothing." Lorne said.
"So he's clean?" Wes asked wearily.
"Bubbles there, is so clean he squeaks."
"I'm sorry?" Spike said in disbelief. "That bloke works for Wolfram and Hart and he hasn't got a single nefarious scheme up his sleeve? Seems unlikely to me."
"You do have a point, Spike. Tell me, have you ever come across anyone here without something slightly dark brewing in them?"
"Besides Fredikins here? No, I don't think I have."
They all turned back and stared at Knox. Spike walked over to him and reached out a hand towards his neck.
"Hey..." Knox protested, as Spike yanked off a chain, which had been hidden under his shirt.
"Now sing." Spike demanded.
"No way. I've done my singing." He looked towards Fred for support. "You know it's not me, Fred. I adore you. Worship you."
"So sing. Sing for me." Fred commanded.
Knox took a breath as though he was about to obey but instead made a desperate dash towards the door. Spike sprang after him, tumbling them both into the corridor outside, with the lab door swinging shut behind them. The others quickly followed but by the time they'd pushed opened the door the fight was over. Knox was lying bruised and dishevelled, only half conscious as he slumped against the lift doors.
Spike was dusting himself down.
"How did you know the necklace was protecting him?" Lorne asked.
"It's always a bloody necklace isn't it?"
"Uh...gem of amarra?"
"Except when it's a ring." Spike qualified.
"Quite. Why don't you update Angel and I'll get some answers from this...thing."
Wesley dragged the beaten man into the lift and pressed down. Spike, Fred and Lorne made their way to Angel's office.
"Hi Harmony, is Angle free? Can we see him?"
She nodded towards his office.
"He's not exactly free for but you may as well enjoy the show."
"Why? What's happened now?"
"Nina came to see him." Harmony nodded towards the half open door.
"Why can't you look at me?" Nina was asking plaintively.
"Because I'm under my desk." He explained. "Would you mind getting out of here?"
"I guess..." she replied and walked away in confusion.
"What is it with puppets and desks?" Lorne asked.
"It's...a thing." Spike replied defensively.
Angel was back in full view, sitting in his chair with his head in hands.
"You realise you're traumatising that poor girl, don't you, Angelbabe?"
"Excuse me, did I hear you knock?" Angel replied in some annoyance. "Also? I don't want to talk about it."
Lorne tutted but Angel remained unmoved.
"Who is she?" Spike asked.
"A girl I sort of saved. A werewolf now. I've been trying to help her."
"Oh I get it...she's eternally grateful and 'is there anything I can do in return, my hero, my saviour?' That sort of scene?"
"I guess. But why? I mean I'm not witty or suave, I'm the guy lurking in a dark corner with a bad blood habit."
"Yeah. They never really get it do they? They build an image and then try to stuff you in it, no matter how bad the fit."
"Yeah. That's women for you." Lorne agreed melancholically.
"Hey. I am here you know."
"Sorry Freddypie but we don't mean you when we talk about women."
Fred folded her arms.
"Lorne, stop trying to make it better." Spike hissed.
"Anyway. Down to business." Angel hastily cut in. "How did it go with Knox?"
"He sang. He was all puppies and candy canes. Turned out he was wearing a protective charm, which screwed with my empathic abilities and gave a false reading." Lorne summed up.
"Wesley is questioning him." Fred added. "So there is actually nothing else we can do until we have a bit more information."
"Gunn has been trying to find out what we're dealing with by tracing the sarcophagus back to its source. It was shipped into the country. The carrier came from Europe but there is no trace of it being loaded that end. As far as we can tell it was actually picked up in the middle of the ocean. We're currently attempting to locate the crew of the ship in the hope of obtaining an eyewitness account."
"Meanwhile." Spike suggested. "Perhaps we could turn our heads to this little problem." He held out his puppet hand.
"I've been researching it and we ran a fully spectrum analysis on this morning's episode, used every filter we had. I still have to go over the results."
"If you get on with that, I think its time that we had a chat with the creator of Smile Time." Angel said.
"No." Lorne replied. "It's too dangerous for you two, now you're all puppetfied. He may have a way of controlling his creations. I'll get Gunn and we'll go talk to him."
"Makes sense." Spike agreed. "I mean, look at us. I've seen scarier demons on Teletubbies. Suppose he might die laughing at us but it doesn't sound much of a plan."
"Ok. So Gunn and Lorne will get answers from...?"
"Framkin." Fred supplied.
"Yeah, Framkin. Fred will continue analysing the show, Wes is questioning Knox and Spike and I will...uh..."
"Do something really useful." Spike finished helpfully.
"No. I mean yes..."
"Ok. That's great. I'll get Gunn." Lorne left hurriedly, before they changed their minds and put him back on singing duty.
"I'll get back to the tape. Don't worry. We'll get some answers for you."
"I know you will. Thanks Fred."
-
Wesley tied the man securely. He'd never felt so much cold hatred as he did for this man.
"I used to be a watcher. You know, looking after a slayer." He said conversationally as he tested the bonds thoroughly.
"I wasn't a very good one, does that surprise you?"
The other man just slouched unresponsive, his eyes at half mast.
"I don't know if I taught my slayer anything, except maybe how to distrust." Wesley considered this and added. "Which is always a useful skill to have. Unfortunately it's not one Fred ever acquired. She trusted you."
The words tasted like metal in his mouth.
"I, however, learnt a lot from my slayer."
He turned away and lit a cigarette and slouched against the cell wall in a manner eerily reminiscent of Spike, the early years.
"She taught me that there were five basic torture groups: sharp, blunt, hot cold and loud. And how to use them all, it was very educational."
He slowly blew the smoke out, clouding the air between them.
"I'm going to pass on the favour and educate you."
Another drag on the cigarette, until the end glowed orange. He walked towards the bound figure.
"Beginning with...hot."
A scream filled the room.
"You're supposed to...ask me...questions first." Knox panted.
"I believed I asked you whether you were surprised at my failure as a watcher and you deigned not to answer." Wesley replied.
"You want to hurt me." He realised. "But...you're one of the good guys! You don't torture. It's not you, Wesley. What would Fred think?"
A resounding smack echoed in the air and Knox was jerked back by the blow.
"You don't even get to mention her name, you, filthy, murdering vermin."
It sounded all the more deadly for the cold, almost disinterested tone employed.
"So shall we get back to it?"
"Was that a question?"
"You're learning." Replied Wesley with approval. "So shall we get back to it?"
-
The office finally emptied and they both flopped down on the couch.
"We need to talk." Angel said.
"I know. But is this really the time? Stupid puppet emotions. I mean we're not exactly rational about these things at the best of times."
"Yeah. You're right. Wonder why you were sent to the studio last night just to be hit like I was?"
"Well the vision wasn't really about us, it was about the children. I came along for the ride. Suppose I just wanted to see you again."
"Really?" Angel tried to keep the pleasure from his voice, aiming for neutral and cool.
"Uh huh. Got a lot to tell you but perhaps leave it until after this is over, yeah?"
"I agree. You don't look like you, and the blood link has gone. I have no sense of you. When you're not in front of me I've no idea if you're even alive."
"I know, I noticed that. The bond is in the blood and it looks like cotton wadding isn't considered an acceptable substitute."
"Are we even vampires?"
"I think I may have vamped out when I fought Knox...not sure."
An expression of intense concentration appeared on Angel's face, his eyes turned yellow and little fangs protruded from his mouth.
Spike began to laugh and Angel sighed.
"Still not scary then?"
Spike just shook his head and Angel let his face change back.
They sat in companionable silence, an interlude of peace in their insane day. In the end there was only so much peace Spike could take and he soon got restless.
"I'll go and give Fred a hand."
"It's science, Spike. Not blood and guts."
"I live in this world. Always have. I was probably using a computer when you were still sucking on rats."
"Thanks for reminding me of that. I still think it's unfair that I had a hundred years of eating rats and you had..."
Spike interrupted.
"I had people around me who helped me. You had no one. You did alright, Peaches."
No I didn't. But I'm doing alright now. Go on, you go help Fred; I'm going to run through the crew listing and make some calls. Ummm...maybe I should apologise to Nina?"
-
"I guess we should go through the signal spread, check the tracks again."
Fred chatted as she looked through the results. She wasn't really talking to Spike, she was almost explaining things to herself, questioning herself and then answering, but having him there stopped her feeling self conscious about it.
Smile Time was running in a continuous loop, Spike watched it carefully in case he could spot something with enhanced senses.
"Spike?"
"Hmmm?"
"What is Wesley doing down there? To Knox?"
Spike was immediately alert.
"Uh. Questioning him."
"But how? I mean, is he using persuasion or...persuasion?"
Spike muted the TV.
"Listen, he'll do what he has to and sometimes that means going places where he wouldn't normally choose to go."
"Spike!" She exclaimed.
"Yeah, I know, it can be dangerous, can warp a man...."
"Spike!" She said with more urgency, her eyes glued to the screen.
"What?"
She nodded at the screen. The puppet, Polo, was leaning forward, his hypnotic face filling the TV screen, his eyes filled with malice.
Spike jumped up.
"That's it! That was my vision. That's when he drains the kids. Why didn't he do that earlier?"
He turned the volume back up and Polo was innocently singing with the other puppets. He muted it and the menacing face once again filled the screen and it looked like he was talking to the audience.
"I think the carrier signal is being cloaked by the song, allowing Framkin to address his target without being seen by the rest of his viewers. That's how he's hiding it."
"That's how he was hiding it." Spike replied grimly.
"True. And now we know what we're looking at let's test this thing properly."
-
The house was quiet, Buffy had decided that 'downtime' equalled 'mall time' and they had all taken a day off shopping. Giles realised that she'd probably done it for his benefit and was grateful to her.
Meanwhile, he'd been as good as his word, chasing up old contacts. He'd asked the questions and now it was just a waiting game until someone returned with an answer. Or not, as the case may be. This was his first attempt to work with Angel's people since they'd migrated to the other side. His chance to show his commitment to the bargain he'd struck with Spike. He was even considering the idea of using Wolfram and Hart resources for their own purpose. It would give him access to old texts and manuscripts, the sort of access which he thought had been lost with the Council's library.
He sat down at his desk, with a pen and paper and used the temporary peace to try to recall the tracts which might refer to the situation Angel was facing. Somehow having a pen in his hand helped him think, and that was something a keyboard could never replace. That and the soothing scratch of nib on paper, instead of the constant, irritating tap, tap, tap of keys. Certainly he moved with the times, he could accept that computers had a place when it came to research, as long as that place was nowhere near him. Luckily Andrew's enthusiasm more than made up for his own lack on interest in the infernal machine.
Besides this research he was doing on their behalf, he hadn't forgotten his promise to Spike and was currently looking into finding a suitable property for him. He'd made a shortlist, but what did he know off Spike's taste? The only place he'd known the vampire to stay for any length of time had been the crypt. Then there was Angel. Who had chosen a mansion, a decrepit but once magnificent hotel and was now living in one of the finest penthouses in LA. His tastes obviously ran to the grand.
Willow had made some useful suggestions, approaching it from a purely magical viewpoint. She pointed out that a detached property would be easier to protect than an apartment and if it had its own grounds she'd be able to place secondary protection at the boundary. It was lucky that the Council had deep pockets - properties of this specification didn't come cheap in LA.
-
Gunn and Lorne arrived back. Gunn had an idea, which he wanted to research, so Lorne was by himself when he saw, to his shock, Angel tottering towards him, his clothing ripped and his stuffing hanging out. He ran towards the wounded puppet.
"Angel! My prince! Are you alright? Who did this?"
"Nina." He gasped. "I was apologising."
"Ah and she didn't take it too well. I understand. Just hold on. Keep fighting."
He supported Angel's weight
"Medic!" He yelled. "Is there a Geppetto in the house?"
Angel was carefully sewn back together. Even so he moved tentatively, not wanting to test the strength of the stitching and unsure as to how vampire healing worked on his new body. He'd asked everyone to, once again, reconvene in his office. Gunn was busy but the others were waiting for him.
"Angel, are you alright?" Fred asked in concern, as she noticed his slightly tattered look.
"Long story." He replied easing himself into his chair. "Just give me some good news."
She immediately began talking animatedly.
"We've discovered that Smile Time contains a hidden carrier wave masked by a spell that turns the TV into a 2-way conduit with direct access to the viewer." Fred explained. "That's how he's been draining energy from the children, and judging from the strength of yesterday's signal, Framkin's ready to take out the whole audience. The object that you and Spike described in that secret room, is most likely a repository for the children's life force. We'll have to break the binding magic on it."
"Which should free those children and... reverse our puppet problem." Spike finished.
"I want the ops team put on red alert." Angel demanded, his hands clenching into little fists.
"Red alert?" Lorne queried, with a lift of his brows.
"Teargas, helicopters..."
"Angel, baby... Muppet, pumpkin, uh, this show is number one in its time slot. Tykes love it all across the Southland. Parents love it, its edutainment, they can leave the little moppets in front of the TV and still feel like they're being good parents. We can't just toss a Jihad at the studio."
Angel calmed himself a little.
"Right. So. How did you get on with Framkin?"
"Papa Smurf? Nothing. We threatened him. He threatened us. I think he might have beaten us in the one-up threatmanship. He's a bad person." "Maybe we don't need a Jihad, just an assassination. Take out Framkin and his cohorts, get to that smiley object and break the magic."
"Again, I say. This is a major show. You can't just make the puppet meister disappear."
"Why not? I am CEO of Wolfram and Hart. I can make anyone disappear."
"Yes, I'm sure you can." Fred replied soothingly. "But are you sure that's the sort of power you want to use?" She screwed up his face slightly. "Its means and ends isn't it? If you start using the tactics of the enemy, then how long before you become like them?"
Angel shook his head.
"You're a good girl, Fred, but its results that count. I mean, what do you think Wesley is doing at the moment?"
She remembered the conversation that she'd started to have with Spike.
"Is he...? I have to go." She rushed out.
"You really are a complete wanker." Spike shook his head and left.
"What?" He asked Lorne.
"Tact, Angelcakes. You know? That thing that you don't have."
Spike entered Wesley's office and had a quick look through the cupboards. Someone as organised and prissy as Wesley was bound to keep a set of emergency clothes...and there they were.
-
The man was unconscious again, which was annoying. He'd just begun to feel as if they were getting somewhere. Wesley poured himself a glass of water. Who would have thought that torture could be so emotionally and physically tiring, for the perpetrator, as well as the victim?
There was a knock at the door.
"Who is it?"
"Hi Wes. It's me."
"Fred? What are you doing here?"
"Let me in, Wes."
He looked down at himself, at the blood spattered room, at the unconscious form bound to his chair.
"No. I don't want you in here."
"Have you hurt him?"
Wesley hesitated.
"Fred, it's...."
"Is he alive?"
He realised she was not going to be put off.
"Yes, he's alive."
He could hear her sigh of relief even through the thick door.
"How can you still be worried about him? He tried to murder you. He tried to destroy your soul."
"Him? I'm not worried about him, Wes. Can't you see? It's you! I'm worried about you." She began to cry.
He slumped down to a crouching position and could feel his own eyes tear up.
"Fred..."
"I love you, Wesley. I love you as you are. No more of this, please."
"I'm doing it for you!"
"And it means nothing if I lose you. I don't want someone who tortures and murders, even if it is for me. I just want my sweet Wes."
He could here her being comforted and then an English voice.
"It's me Wes. She's going to stay here. Let me in."
The door slowly unlocked and Spike walked in, closing it firmly behind him.
He handed Wesley the clothes.
"Clean up. Change." He ordered.
Wesley took off his shirt and stared blankly at the blood.
"Oh, bloody hell. Look its ok."
Spike took the shirt from him, drenched it with water from the jug and started to wipe his face.
"I can do it." Wesley said, taking the shirt and cleansing himself before pulling on fresh clothes.
He looked at Knox.
"I was so close." He whispered.
"We'll find another way, Wes."
Wes stood stiffly, his head bent and his forehead leaning slightly on Spike's shoulder. Spike realised he was crying. He patted him rather awkwardly.
"Don't worry, Mate. We'll find a way."
Wesley pulled himself together and nodded.
"She's waiting for you."
Wesley slowly left. Fred took him by the hand and led him away.
Spike shut the door again and surveyed the room with a sick feeling. Wesley was a little too good at this. Knox was coming around, his eyelids fluttered and he let out a groan.
"No more." he begged, through his broken mouth.
"Then tell us what we want to know." Spike replied, in an eerie imitation of Wesley.
"There's nothing you can do." Knox said softly. "It was pre-ordained."
"Tell me." Spike commanded.
"Illyria planned this resurrection millennia ago. Illyria is a god. My god."
Maybe this was enough, even if it wasn't Spike couldn't take anymore more. The blood and the pain called to his demon.
He picked up the phone and ordered a medic and a clean up crew.
-
Gunn spotted Spike.
"Hey, man. Got some news for you and the Boss."
"Let's go then. I've got an update on Illyria, but if you're there it means we can soften it with your good news."
Angel was on the telephone, when they walked in. He nodded at them to take a seat.
"Well thank you very much. You've been most helpful, Mr McCann. Good bye."
He looked pleased with himself.
"Just been speaking with a member of the crew that shipped the sarcophagus. Apparently, he remembers that particular voyage. The ship had to be at a certain location in the Atlantic at a specific time. They made it and he swears that he saw this thing appear out of thin air. It missed the ship and landed in the ocean. They had to send a team out to collect it. He didn't get a chance to look at it but I'm pretty sure that's our relic."
"I've got a bit of background to it, courtesy of Knox." Spike said. "It contains Illyria, a god, or so he said. This Illyria put its own escape in motion before its internment. Knox said it was pre-ordained."
"Why teleport to the middle of the ocean?" Gunn asked.
"If this plan was set in place a long time ago then the world has changed, continents shifted." Angel replied.
"So, it's a god. Like Jasmine. Except, in her own way, Jasmine was benevolent, and look how much destruction she caused. We can probably safely assume that this Illyria will not have the same protective feelings towards humanity. You've faced a god before haven't you Spike?"
"I've faced a chained and neutered god and she was dangerous enough. Buffy died."
Angel went cold, he'd forgotten how that had ended.
"We can't let it get out of the sarcophagus."
"In that case we need to find it and send it back to where it came from." Spike said.
"Not necessarily." Gunn replied. "If it's meant for Fred that means very shortly it's going to turn up here. It's going to find us."
"I'm not happy about it being on the premises, but you're right. If we accept that's the way it's going to happen, it means we can concentrate on researching where it came from, and how to send it back, before Illyria is freed."
They considered this in gloomy silence.
"Gunn? Now might be a nice time for your good news." Spike suggested.
"Oh yeah, back to the puppet thing. It's not Framkin as such. He's not doing this. It's the puppets. They're demons. The show is possessed. Smile Time's ratings hit an all-time low last year. Framkin made a deal with some devils to bring it back to number one."
"Are you sure?"
"Dead sure. Every contract signed with the lower planes is filed in the Library of Demonic Congress. You just gotta know where to look. Pretty tricky legalese, too. Framkin must have missed some of the fine print." Gunn replied.
Angel walked back towards his desk and took a sword from off the wall.
"So we only have to take out some puppets. Even Fred wouldn't disapprove of that. Gather the team."
"Right, action at last." Spike agreed enthusiastically. "Let's go get ourselves some puppets."
-
"Listen, kids. Today is gonna be an extra-special best show ever! But only if everyone at home can give us a hand. Now get up... and come over here. That's it, everyone. Just keep your hands right there. Oh! Ohh... let it go! Let it all go! After all, it's Smile Time!" Polo had his hands either side of the camera whilst the other puppets sang.
"No, it' not..." Angel said.
Polo turned away from the camera to see Angel standing on the set behind him, carrying a sword
"...it's time to kick your ass all the way back to hell!"
He swung his sword and let out a primal yell as he leapt towards the puppet, whilst the TV show staff acted as if they couldn't see what was going on around them.
"Hey, man! You're ruinin' the show!"
"We're working on it." Gunn replied swinging his sword and cutting off puppet Groofus's head.
The big, purple puppet with a hooter for a nose began to toot furiously.
"Now that is really irritating." Spike growled raising his axe and slicing it off with a single blow. A sad little wheeze came from the puppet, Spike swiftly finished the job.
Polo had managed to knock the sword from Angel's grip. Gunn shouted out a warning and Polo noticed the others for the first time.
"It's a full-scale attack!" He called to the other puppets, "...the nest egg."
But Fred and Wesley were already busy in the "Don't" room.
"Aperi, rumpe, solve, reveni. Aperi, rumpe, solve, reveni—"
Fred read from a scroll. At her words the nest egg began to rumble and the glowing crescent-shaped slit appeared.
"Don't look at it, Fred." Wes warned.
She looked at her feet and continued to read the scroll. A girl puppet suddenly burst through the door and grabbed Wesley around the neck.
"Wes!
"No, Fred. Keep reading!"
The nest egg's smile widened, Fred continued reciting, whilst Wes struggled with the puppet. Fred grew agitated and looked over her shoulder, to see the puppet coming at Wesley with a fire extinguisher. She pulled out a gun and fired, the puppet stumbled back, she shot again and the puppet dropped to the ground with a hand to its eye. Wes looked at Fred, admiration shining in his eyes. Fred smiled and blushed, put the gun away and continued reading the scroll.
Angel, meanwhile, had managed to overpower Polo.
"So... you got a little demon in you." Polo taunted.
"I got a lot of demon in me." The vampire replied as his eyes turned golden and his fangs dropped. Polo gasped in fright.
Angel grabbed the puppet and threw him into the treehouse, where he landed on a railing. Pierced on the wooden splinters, he fell limp.
"Gunn? Spike?" Angel called, his face slipping back to its human aspect as he straightened his coat.
"Yeah. We're good." Spike said waving a dismembered hooter at him.
Wesley beat the wounded puppet, not satisfied until he was showered with guts, or in this case, cotton stuffing. The nest egg began to glow brighter as Fred finished her incantation. Cracks started to appear in it. Until it finally exploded, showering the room with bright light. Wes and Fred turned away from the force of the explosion with Wesley shielding her smaller figure protectively.
"It's over Fred." He whispered. "Well done."
Angel and Spike were disappointed to find themselves still in puppet form.
"It might take a few hours to wear off." Fred explained.
Everyone was shattered, they'd hardly slept for two days.
"Go home everyone. We're getting close with this Illyria thing so take a day to recover and we'll see you tomorrow."
They left without argument.
Angel turned to Spike.
"You want to stay at mine tonight?"
"Do I still look like a puppet?"
"Yeah."
"I'll stay with you then. Is my bed still there?"
"Yeah. Try not to have any visions. I'm tired." Angel sighed. "Do things always have to be so crazy?"
"This was a quiet day. Wait until the apocalypse strikes."
"There's going to be another apocalypse?"
"No. Not the season for them yet. They normally strike in the summer...are you laughing?"
"No! Just..." he made little coughing noises, "...clearing my throat."
"It was ok? Working together?" Spike asked a little anxiously.
"It was good, like old times...except for the puppet thing."
"Because it looks like we really are stuck with each other. You ok with that?"
"What do you think, Spike?"
"I think...we'll deal with Illyria tomorrow."
They went back to the penthouse and for the rest of the day they slept like the dead.