"So what's the plan? Are we gonna start beating ass, or what?"

          "You're sure that's where he lives?" Angel asked.

          "Yeah, I'm sure," Gunn said, eyeing Spike warily. "Faith and I did a sweep; vamps at the door. I don't like it. It's guarded pretty tight, and the dude's supposed to be a badass. Getting in will be ugly.

          "Can't be runnin' scared of a few nasties."

"Oh, we've got to dust him, Goldilocks, whether we help rock the cradle of love or not. We might as well get something useful out of him first. I just think it might be a trick, that's all."

          "You're all heart, Hawk," Spike grunted. "Come on, Peaches. Let's do this already. I'm bored out of my fuckin' skull sittin' around here."

          "Don't start that Hawk shit again," Gunn warned.

          "It's not an insult, Charles," Fred said from the couch. They all looked at her. "It's not. It's from a book, and Hawk's…"

          "Listen, Red … Fred … that's enough," Spike said. He hadn't meant it as an insult, but if they were so thick that it needed to be spelled out, he didn't want to listen. "Damn, she's sorta Willow-like, though, ain't she?"

          "Just ignore him," Angel said to them. He pushed off the counter and looked around the room. Wesley, Connor, and Lorne were elsewhere, but the rest of his crew, including Faith, had arranged themselves around the Hyperion's lobby. "We'll be better off if we go in without an overt threat. He doesn't respond well to threats, but Spike might be able to buy the information off him."

          "Don't have any money."

          "He won't want money. He knows something else; that much was clear in the spring. You've told us everything he said to you?"

          "Yeah, I did. Prince of Lust, hellspawn, Soul Man. Why would I leave anythin' out?"

          "Hmm … because you're an idiot?" Cordelia suggested.

          "Sod off, cheerleader."

          "So what's the plan? There's a plan, right?" Faith asked.

          "Spike and I will go in together. You guys wait for us outside; if there's loud noises and screams, you come rushing in."

          "That's your brilliant plan?"

          "Listen, Spike, you asked for our help. We're still doing it my way, in case you've forgotten in the past hour."

          "You're damn unpleasant for someone who I bought all the drinks for at that hellhole tonight."

          "You bought them with my money."

          "Well, if you want to be technical, it stopped bein' yours when I kicked your ass all over the billiards table."

          "Can you guys get over yourselves for two seconds?" Cordelia stepped between them. "I think Faith has something to say."

          "Thanks, Cordy," Faith said, surprised. "Look, no offense, Angel, but your plan's a shitty one. The last time you two saw this guy, he made you duke it out in front of his whole gang. Why don't I go in with Billy Idol? I don't even know this guy, so we probably won't have to fight, y'know?"

          "I thought you didn't do plans," Angel said.

          Faith shrugged. "Walking in the front door, beating up the guys in our way. That's a plan I can vibe with. It's stupid to send the two of you in, though."

          "You know what else?"

          "What's that, Cordy?"

          "Let's say Spike's for real, and these visions are for real, right, and this Prince of Lust guy needs to be killed by a vampire with a soul who loves Buffy. Sending the two of you anywhere together just screams bad move."

          "Score one for the cheerleader."

          "Oh, thanks, Spike. Your approval goes right to the top of my cherished possessions list."

          "You're right, though" Angel agreed after a moment of thought. "Okay, Faith goes in with Spike. When Wesley gets back, we'll take his crew and set up around the outside of this mansion." He looked at Gunn. "Do we need more help? We could try and track down Connor."

          A pair of fingers snapped behind Angel. The vampire whipped around, his fists coming up in a combat position, to face the beast that appeared in front of him.

          The beast saw his fists and started backing up.

          "Perhaps … perhaps I'se can help, sir," it said in its scratchy voice. "I has helped Mr. Spike before. Please don't hurt me, sir."

          "Dobby?" Spike said. "What the hell're you doing here?"

          "This is the place?"

          "Looks that way," Spike told her.

          "Dusted a vamp in Weston at a place like this once." Faith almost whistled in admiration. The Beverly Hills mansion in front of them looked just like any other: large and expensive. From their spot across the street, she could see two separate patrols of guards, all of them vampires wearing their human faces. "How do you want to do it?"

          "We could beat the snot out o' the lot of 'em," Spike suggested.

          "I don't think the King of Brood would like that."

          "I don't take orders from that nancy-boy. From what I've heard, I'm surprised you do."

          "Yeah, well, whatever." She looked away, the streetlights glinting off her dark hair.

          When she didn't say anything else, Spike turned to Dobby. "Dumbledore said you had to listen to me, right?"

          Dobby's almond-shaped head bobbed up and down. "Yes, Dobby is supposed to listen to Mister Spike, and help Mister Spike with his magic."

          "Well, don't do any magic until I tell you. An' quit that Mister Spike shit."

          "Yes, Mister Spike."

          Spike groaned, but didn't bother repeating himself. "C'mon. I'm bored."

          He busted through the hedge line and strode across the street, Faith next to him and Dobby trailing behind. Without pretense, he walked up and banged on the gates of the mansion.

          "Hey! Hey! We're here to see the bloody Don!"

          In five seconds, six vampires made it to the gate. Each one had the expensive suit, bulging muscle look of pure thugs.

          "The Don doesn't see visitors."

          "He'll see me. Tell him William the Bloody's here to make a purchase."

          "No," the lead vampire said smugly.

          Spike shrugged, took a half-step back, and punched the vampire in the chest through the wrought-iron bars. As the dust floated to the ground, Spike pulled the stake out of the wrist sheath and waved it menacingly. The other vampires stood with their mouths hanging open.

          "Simple enough," Spike said. "Now, tell the Don I'm here, and no one else will have to be swept up."

          One of the vampires reached up and tripped the lock; two others shoved the gates apart, and they charged Spike and Faith.

          Spike caught the first one with one of his trademark looping punches, busting open the vampire's nose and spraying blood all over its suit. Next to him, Faith let loose a backfist on a second vampire, snapping its head back. She followed up with a kick to the groin, then swiftly staked both her vamp and Spike's. The three remaining vampires backed up several feet.

          "She's a Slayer," one of them said.

          Faith smiled sweetly. "Yeah. She is. Sucks for you, huh?" She hurled her stake into its chest, the force embedding it three inches deep in its dead heart. "Next?"

          The last two vampires beat a hasty retreat towards the door; the three visitors sauntered up the lengthy driveway, watching them run. When it appeared they would reach the house first, Dobby spoke up.

          "Can Dobby use his magic now, Mister Spike?"

          He looked at Faith, who shrugged. She hadn't yet gotten over the sight of an actual honest-to-god elf tagging along with them.

          "Go for it, then," Spike said. To Faith, he added, "Angelus'll be steamed. That's almost worth it by itself."

          Dobby waved his hands and the two vampires halted instantly. He stretched out his long fingers and curled them back in. The vampires skimmed over the ground, rapidly returning to Faith and Spike's grasp. They each took one by the scruff of the neck.

          "Don't mind us." Spike staked his.

          "We'll just be in," Faith staked hers, "and out." She looked at Spike and grinned. "Damn, I missed that."

          "No violence in the pokey?"

          "Lots, but without the penetration, it just ain't satisfying."

          A genuine laugh rolled out of Spike's lungs, his first one in months. "That's not bad, Slayer. Not bad at all. What say we go inside an' get us a bit more before bed?"