Meanwhile, back in Sunnydale:
A car screeched to a stop in front of Rupert Giles's apartment. The passenger door burst open, and a disheveled Cordelia Chase leapt out and ran to the entryway. Hitting the intercom, she yelled, "Giles, let me in, it's an emergency."
Giles grabbed a battle-ax and ran to the window. Cordelia turned to the car, called out: "Thanks again, Evil Undead. You really saved my life."
To Giles's astonishment, Spike stuck his head out the car's window. "Ta luv, I'll just be off to my crypt," he said, giving Cordelia a cheery wave goodbye.
Giles, numb with shock, buzzed her in. Cordelia shoved past him, slammed the door, locked every lock, then promptly collapsed on the sofa. "You wouldn't believe the day I had," she said.
Concerned, Giles asked her if she had been injured.
"I'm fine. But I had a narrow escape," she said, shuddering at a horrific memory.
"What the devil happened? And why were you with Spike?" Giles demanded.
Ignoring Giles, Cordelia whipped a mirror out of her purse and grimaced at the sight. "If Mr. I Use More Hair Gel Than Angel would only get a car with air conditioning I wouldn't have spent the last two hours in a wind tunnel," she muttered as she combed out her tangled hair.
Giles surreptitiously glanced at her mirror to see if she still had a reflection. Yes, she was still human. Giles relaxed slightly. Time to get to the bottom of this. "Cordelia, I must know what has happened."
Cordelia continued to fuss with her hair. "Angel, he, well, he changed again, and not for the better," she said.
Giles, remembering the last time Angel turned evil, paled. "You, you don't mean, Angelus is back?" he said softly.
Cordy looked up from her compact. "No," she said. "It's worse."
"Worse!" Giles said, alarmed.
Cordelia shuddered delicately and continued her story. "He's gotten nice. I mean really nice. I mean super, mega, ultra nice. Sweet enough to give you diabetes nice."
Giles frowned. "Please explain," he said.
She started to fill Giles in on the events of the last few days. "It all started when Angel's friend Kate the Cop arrested this Mafia guy. . . . He touched the stick . . . It was really icky . . . Doyle and I . . . We thought it wore off . . . He had Spike tied up in the kitchen . . . No, he was being nice to him, that's when I knew something was wrong. . . and then that Irish rat hung up on me," Cordelia said indignantly. "Anyway, I untied Spike, we jumped out the window, and here I am."
Giles was at a loss for words for several minutes. Finally, he picked up the phone and called Buffy. "Buffy, a situation has arisen regarding Angel. . . No, he hasn't. . . . It's a bit complicated . . . Cordelia will fill you in . . .Yes, Xander too . . " Giles hung up the phone. Turning to Cordelia, he said, "They'll be here in a few minutes."
"Fine, whatever," Cordelia said, now engrossed with her makeup.
A short time later, Buffy and Xander arrived. Cordelia told her story once again, this time to a skeptical audience.
"I don't believe you," Buffy said. "Angel's too strong to be affected by some magic twig like that."
Xander looked puzzled. "What's so bad about Angel acting nice?" he said.
Cordelia rolled her eyes at him. "Hello! Haven't you been listening? I told you, Nice Angel is even scarier than Evil Angel."
Buffy remained unconvinced. Before she could speak, the sound of running footsteps and frantic pounding on the door filled the air. She ran to the window. "It's Spike, something's chasing him. It's, it's Angel!" she cried.
Cordelia promptly grabbed one a wooden stake and locked herself in the bathroom.
They watched the fight below. Spike was strong and cunning, but he was no match for Angel's skill and experience. Giles wondered briefly if they should intervene, but decided that it was best to let the two vampires fight it out.
Angel, having gotten the upper hand, began to tie Spike up. He lifted his head, grinned at them and said brightly, "Hi gang. Xander, buddy, long time, no see. Rupert, you're looking good, I've really missed you. Buffy, you're absolutely radiant - that new boyfriend of yours must be a positive influence on you, I can't wait to meet him." Three sets of jaws dropped.
"Cordy wasn't kidding," Xander said. "He really did have a personality transplant."
Spike was desperate. "Save me Giles, don't let the monster get me," he pleaded.
"Help you?" Giles said. "Why should I help you? You're still an evil, unclean thing."
"Rupert, as a fellow St. Ethelred's boy, I implore you!" Spike cried piteously.
Giles paused. Had he heard Spike correctly? Did William The Bloody really claim to be a St. Ethelred's boy? The penny dropped. "He, he's William The Bloody!" Giles shouted.
Meanwhile, Angel tossed Spike over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Don't worry about Spike. The two of us need some 'alone time' to settle our differences," Angel said happily. Spike howled in despair.
"We'll save you, William. Keep a stiff upper lip, man. Be British," Giles admonished as Angel carried Spike into the dark night. "He's William the Bloody," Giles said again.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Well, duh. You knew that," she said.
"No, I mean he's 'The William The Bloody'. Oh, I must share this," Giles said, cackling with glee as he whipped out his cell phone. "Roger, its me. No, Wesley hasn't made another cock up. I found out something I must share. Spike is William The Bloody. I know that. I mean he's our William The Bloody. Yes, as in 'Ode To A Spotted Dick'."
Xander looked at Buffy, shook his head and muttered, "I don't wanna know."
Giles hung up the telephone and said, "This changes everything. We must rescue him, Xander. I must honor the code of St. Ethelred."
Xander was speechless.
Spike's crypt:
Trussed up with even more secure chains, all Spike could do was glare helplessly up at Angel.
"Listening to this nasty music all the time, no wonder you have an anger management problem, Spike," Angel said, overflowing with sympathy and understanding. "I'll just play something nice," he said, putting a record on the turntable. Giving Spike yet another sickeningly sweet smile, he said, "Don't worry, I brought my record collection." Spike, remembering Angel's taste in music, shivered.
The mellow sound of England Dan and John Ford Coley filled the crypt. Spike began to whimper.
Later that night:
Giles and Xander proceeded to Spike's erstwhile sanctuary, Giles armed with several stakes and a crossbow, Xander carrying a Super Soaker filled with holy water. Entering the crypt, they saw a pathetic sight. Spike was curled up in a fetal position; the only sounds enamating from the usual voluble vampire were soft moans. Despite himself, Giles felt a stab of pity.
"It appears as if Angelus has left," Giles said. "Good."
"What did Angel do to him?" Xander said, his voice quavering.
"I'm not sure," Giles said. "Remember, Angelus was an expert at torture. H'm, it's odd, I don't see a mark on Spike."
Xander gestured towards the record player. "What's that for?" he said.
Not for the first time, Giles felt old. "It's an artifact of the antediluvian age," he said. "We called them 'record players'. One used them to listen to music, real music, not that noise you lot torture your eardrums with for some inexplicable reason." "Yeah, I know what it is," Xander said peevishly. "My Grandmother used to have one. What I meant was, what is it doing here?"
Spike let out a loud whimper.
Giles had an idea. "Perhaps this will give us a clue," he said as he went to inspect the records. He thumbed through the record collection with mounting horror. Barry Manilow, England Dan and John Ford Coley, Seals and Croft, Loggins and Messina, John Denver, it was all there. He picked up another album. "Dear lord!" he said, his face ashen.
"What is it?" Xander said.
"Captain and Tenille! Muskrat Love! Even Spike didn't deserve that," Giles said. Xander's blood ran cold.
Spike moaned, "No more, please, I'll do anything you want."
Giles turned his attention to the stricken vampire. "Come back to my place, Spike. We'll drink some tea, listen to some early Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix, The Velvet Underground or perhaps King Crimson," Giles said cajolingly. "That will be nice, won't it?"
Spike nodded. "Yes, it would be nice," he said tremulously. Giles helped him to his feet and led him away. Xander followed.
Several days later:
After many playings of the Sex Pistols, The Ramones and the New York Dolls, Spike had begun to recover his composure, but still bore the marks of the torment Angel had put him through.
Buffy, still freaked out by Angel's acceptance of her new lover, had gone off on a trip with Riley, leaving the Initiative to guard the hellmouth, while Cordelia was still staying with Giles. Cordelia had tried unsuccessfully to contact Doyle; his answering machine announced he was visiting his family in Ireland.
Cordelia stepped out of Giles's apartment building. I can't live the rest of my life in fear. Maybe I should look up Xander, go to the Bronze or something. I'm way too good looking to spend anymore time holed up in Giles's den of nerddom, she thought. Anyway, Angel hasn't been seen since Giles rescued Spike, so I'm safe.
She headed towards Xander's house, happy and confident. She spotted Xander who was several blocks away. Something in the shadows caught her eye. Her heart sank. It's him. He's back, and he's after Xander. Cordelia sped up, moving as fast as she could in heels.
Angel stalked his prey, creeping ever closer to the oblivious Xander. Cordelia took a deep breath. As she was about to shout a warning, she narrowed her eyes. Cheat on me with Little Miss Wicca will you? Cordelia thought angrily. For that, you deserve some quality time with Mr. Sensitive. She deliberately turned away. I think I'll go shopping, she thought. Have fun with Mr. Sensitive.
Meanwhile, Angel reached his victim, grabbed Xander in a chokehold, and said soothingly, "Xander my friend, it's time we had a heart to heart talk."
Xander screamed.
The End.