Distribution, disclaimer, and summary can be found in the first chapter.
--
Shallow breaths. Always shallow breaths. Vampires can sense you if you panic. Smell your fear. Hear your heartbeat. Always stay calm. Always shallow breaths.
She hid outside Spike's apartment, listening to the fight as it raged on inside.
"Get offa me kid!"
"I'm not leaving here without him!"
"Then you're not leaving."
She heard the crash of glass breaking. Probably a lamp. The wall behind her shook with the force of the supernatural battle.
"Who the bloody hell are you kid?"
"The Destroyer."
The crack of knuckles against a jaw sounded, and Spike howled with pain.
With relief, she sighed and looked again to her clipboard. Raising her pen, she quickly jotted Angel's location and newest captor. Her superiors would be pleased to know that not only had she found the vampire, but she would be able to lead them right to the front door. A last flick of her wrist finished the notation on her yellow pad, and she began to walk away.
Taking a step back, she hit a wall.
There was no wall here…
A blade whisked through the air and rested coldly on her collarbone.
"Why don't we go inside?"
She subtly nodded and took baby steps toward the door. A rich brown hand reached around her and edged her—and his ax—through the entryway.
"You guys wanna stop fighting and say 'hey' to our guest?"
The duo froze and looked up at Gunn. Spike had Connor trapped in a headlock, but Connor's grip around Spike's right knee showed Connor's intent to pull Spike to the ground.
"Who's she?" Connor asked, though Spike's arm muffled the question.
"She's a Watcher," Spike answered and released Connor. "She's been followin' me for close to a month by now. Didn't think she'd be dumb enough to actually try to get inside here though."
Gunn looked up at Connor, finally noticing his presence.
"Hey kid! What are you doin' coming back here?"
"Long story—you guys aren't the only ones the Senior Partners are after."
Concerned, Gunn asked, "You get attacked?"
"A few nights ago," Connor reluctantly admitted. "They killed my family—the family that Angel put me with after the…Jasmine…thing." Unsure of what to say, Gunn waited in uncomfortable silence for Connor to continue. "I knew that you guys made it. Demons have been talking now that the resident champion is out of commission. I came to see if you guys needed a little help waging the war and tracked Dad's smell to Peroxide-vamp."
Gunn laughed, "Oh, that's Spike. He's got a soul, but he's one of Angel's vamp friends from back in the day. Back in the soulless day."
"Okay, so the brat knows who I am. Now who's he?" Spike demanded.
"I'm Connor," he said, interrupting Gunn. "Angel's my father."
"The poof doesn't have a kid. He's a tad inept, with the fangs and the dead soldiers and all. Though…you do kinda have the overhanging brow thing."
"Naw," Gunn disagreed, "the kid's really Angel's. There's a ton of backstory, but I'm sure watcher lady here can fill ya in."
She rolled her sharp, chocolate eyes and, as Gunn loosed his grip on her arm, began her summary, "Angelus, Scourge of Europe, mated with his sire to produce a child who would later become known as The Destroyer; however, when he found the need to hide the identity of said child, he erased the memories of all who had known him and hid the child's aura from all who would wish to find him."
Jaws dropped in the woman's general direction. Her crisp, British accent hung in the now silent room.
Spike was first to shake away the shock. "Well, aren't you little Miss Angel-trivia?"
"I did not say it to be snobbish. Mr. Gunn slightly released his grip on my arm in hopes that I might tell you everything I know. In return for my information, I should hope that perhaps he will fully relinquish his hold—before my entire arm turns blue from lack of circulation."
Embarrassment fluttered across Gunn's features, and he released her.
"Thank you," she stiffly replied and straightened her jacket, refastening the buttons in front.
Gunn nodded down at her and looked to Spike, "What should we do with her?"
Spike flopped on the couch. "Just shut the door. She's not goin' anywhere." He flashed his vamp face at her as Gunn closed and bolted the door. "Angelus, Scourge of Europe," Spike said, mocking her. "There were four of us, you know. Five sometimes with Penn."
No one paid him any attention.
"Why don't you have a seat?" Connor offered and gestured toward Spike.
"That's alright. I believe I'll stand."
Spike smiled in response to her wavering confidence. "You know, it takes some brass to stalk a vampire and his friends."
"Well, the Council has changed. We're a different organization. I am a field operative and it is my job to keep tabs on the 'champions' that the Powers That Be have given responsibility. My title demands a certain level of experience, and I can take care of myself."
"So you work with the slayers?" Gunn asked. "Buffy, Faith—the ones in Europe?"
"Hardly," she replied. "The slayers have made it perfectly clear that they want nothing to do with anyone who may have been a part of the old council. I am such a person."
"Then, as you put it, what makes you think you can go after the Scourge of Europe?" Spike taunted. "It's not like you have a pack of slayers in your corner."
"You don't frighten me, William. My assignment was to locate and retrieve Angelus, and that is what I shall do."
"Not while we're standing guard, dollface. Oh, and it's Spike now." Spike stood and walked over to open the door. "Get out. Or we'll throw you out."
Connor quickly objected, "You're letting her go?"
"She's harmless."
A proud smile remained on the watcher's face even after she walked out of the apartment and the door was slammed shut behind her. With a certain level of satisfaction, she pulled a cell phone from inside of her blouse and hit a button on her speed dial.
"Hello?"
"Excellent news, Lawrence."
"You have Angel?"
"Not quite, Lawrence."
"Then what do you have for me, boss?"
"Angelus is still being guarded by Spike, but their newest place of residence seems to be the apartment that Spike attained when Angelus was still CEO of Wolfram & Hart."
"They're hiding from the Senior Partners in plain sight."
"Exactly."
"So when can I send some more operatives to retrieve Angel?"
"Probably not soon. There are some…complications."
"'Complications'?"
"The furies, Lawrence. We are going to have to hire some mystics to undo a few guarding spells. Also, Spike has arranged for them to put up a few mystical boundaries around the apartment. It helps to protect them and keeps them hidden from the Senior Partners."
"How does it work?"
"The active parts of the spell are similar to the one that we found at the ruins of the demon sanctuary. It keeps anyone without permission from fighting within the perimeter—human or demon."
"We'll have the mystics on the phone and working on the problem by nightfall. Anything else going to give us grief?"
"Just Connor—Angel's son."
"The one in college?"
"The one with whom I just became better acquainted. He's returned."
--
"I'm not back for ten minutes, and the drama has already started." Gunn shook his head and sat on the couch next to Spike.
"At least you're back."
Nodding in agreement with Spike, Gunn smiled and tilted his head toward Connor.
"So how long were you and Connor fighting?"
"Eh, five minutes, give or take. Kid fights like his dad."
Unease set in as Spike realized that he and Gunn needed to finish their earlier discussion. "So, I was gonna call some moving guys…"
"We're not moving!" Gunn immediately retorted. "I thought we were done trying to figure this out. It would just be easier to keep things the way they are."
"What are you guys arguing about?" Connor asked.
"Spike wants to move away from the furies' special mojo and into the Hyperion—you know, the hotel that Wolfram & Hart knows we called 'home' for three years." Gunn scoffed.
"Right, as opposed to stayin' 'ere, where the last known remnants of the Watcher's Council are breathin' down our necks—which is actually nice for a change, considerin' that Wolfram & Hart is two shakes from ambushing us anyway."
Connor thought about both sides for a moment, and effortlessly reached a suggestion. "So why don't you guys move the team into the hotel and take the furies' protection spells with you?" Connor looked around the room, slowly noticing the absence of the core of Angel Investigations. "Where is 'the team' anyway? The last time I was here, I only got to see Angel. Wesley, Fred, Lorne, Cordy—they're around here somewhere, right?"
Uneasy, Gunn and Spike made eye contact and tried to stare one into forcing the other to give Connor his ill-fated answer. Gunn reluctantly broke eye contact and offered up the answer, "We took some casualties in fighting Wolfram & Hart."
Panic washed over Connor, but a deep breath buried it to brace him for the conversation to come.
"Who?"
"Cordy died in her coma. She never woke up." The hint of sarcasm in Gunn's voice confused Connor, but Gunn continued. "Fred was next. She got infected by a demon…kinda. We call her Illyria now—still one of the good guys…we think."
"And Lorne?"
"Disappeared after the fight. He's prolly still alive, listenin' to bad singers somewhere, but we don't really know what happened to him."
Connor's voice failed him for a second, and with a rough wheeze, he cleared his throat for his last question, "And…Wesley?"
It was the only answer that Gunn refused to hesitate in giving. "He died in the fight. He died a hero. Angel would…" He stopped, realizing his mistake in verb tense. "Angel will be proud. When he wakes up, I mean."
When the thoughts of their misery first dawned on him, Connor was able to put it aside to give Gunn the chance to fully explain, but this time, he couldn't stop the panic welling within him. Time halted as Connor voiced his one conclusion: "Wolfram & Hart gutted you guys, and we have no friends left in this war."
Gunn and Spike looked away, not arguing but not responding.
Connor stepped over to Angel and surveyed the damage still dominating his body.
"Set up a house call for the furies. It's time we moved back into the Hyperion."
