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Chapter 8- Finding Angel

"So, what exactly are we looking for here?" Buffy asked.

Gunn glanced back towards her. "Between me, Wes and Angel, we've got a lot of informants running around Los Angeles. The one with the most consistent and best info is called Zeke, short for Ezekiel. He's homeless, and we checked the places where he usually hangs out. Figured to start with the best."

"Well, pity we couldn't find him", Sam cringed while looking ahead at prostitutes lounging against buildings under blinking neon, with homeless men and women lingering in the shadows a stone's throw away. Some cars had slowed down, eyeing both Buffy and Piper as if they were on the menu, though they'd gestured they were not, even if Spike found it hysterical.

The Vampire was flirting with the prostitutes with ease, oozing a certain alluring darkness he'd been capable of, even the older pros loving him. It was like he was one of them here.

"He seems to be enjoying the company, eh?" Bobby gestured to Spike while talking to Sam.

"Must be second nature to him", Sam shrugged with a shake of the head.

Wesley moved off to speak to some homeless people who were clearly not humans, Buffy noting. "Homeless Demons."

Gunn nodded. "Zeke too."

"What kind of Demon is Zeke?" Piper asked out of curiosity.

"Right, don't know exactly. He look funky, but has never steered us wrong", Gunn assured her and the rest.

"As long as he doesn't start now either", Sam commented.

"Doubt he would", Gunn said with trust in his voice.

There was a commotion, and they all turned to see a prostitute slap Spike across the face, while he grinned and blew a kiss in response. Buffy saw a tall, muscular figure heading along the sidewalk towards them, and realized it was time to rein Spike in.

"Idjit!" Bobby called out, making Spike turn to him.

"What, wanna get any licks in or what, old man?" Spike inquired.

"No, just come over here and be a good dog!" Bobby said loudly, making the prostitutes laugh at Spike, while even Buffy, Piper, Sam and Gunn burst into laughter.

Spike walked over to them, Gunn commenting to Buffy. "Keeping the dog on a leash, huh?"

"Well, we could get him fixed too", Sam shrugged.

"I think he's fixed", Buffy tried to diffuse it.

"Not enough for me", Gunn snarled. "Only one way to make sure such a dog doesn't bite."

"Standing right here!" Spike snapped.

"Not by my invitation", Gunn shrugged. "I got no idea why you're here. Angel won't be happy to see you anyway. I wonder if someone giving him your ashes in an urn would make him happy."

Spike laughed with irony, then took a drag of the cigarette before giving Gunn a predatory smile. "Got it all figured out, don't you, homeboy Van Helsing? Well, let me tell you, you live with the worst Vamp in history, day in and day out."

"Don't compare yourself to him", Gunn snarled. "You'll always come up short."

"That'd be right", Spike shrugged, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Back in the day, he's the one we all looked up to, and wanted to be like."

"Cass did say he was the worst mass murderer once upon a time", Sam remembered the Angel's words, and how he'd said being cursed with his soul was what had changed him eventually.

"Well, he was right", Spike commented. "See? Even an Angel of the Lord knows it. Anyways, I remember he once drank a girl, and slipped her back under the covers." Glancing at Buffy, he added. "Heard he did the same to Rupert's girlfriend as well."

That angered Buffy, as she poked his chest. "Shut up!"

"Why do you even keep him around?" Bobby inquired.

"He has his uses", Buffy defended herself. "And I don't like killing something that can't fight back."

"Won't stop him", Gunn pointed out. "I should dust him right now."

"No you're not going to", Buffy stepped in his way.

"On who's say so?"

"Mine", Buffy said. "I don't get on your turf, but he's from my turf, so you don't get to dust him."

Gunn sighed, moving away. "Fair enough."

"Of course, if the chip goes out and he's all fang happy again, I will call you, Gunn", she turned to Sam and Bobby. "You two as well. And Dean too, we've seen how well he and Spike get along, which is not well at all. All of you can dust him together. But until then, he stays."

"Sounds like a good deal to me", Bobby shrugged, moving away with Sam now.

"Knew you'd stand up for me", Spike told her with a smirk.

"I was standing up for the decision I make every day", Buffy turned to regard him.

"Oh really?" Spike raised his hands to either side. "Do it then! Make me dust right now!"

Buffy looked at him, then shook her head. "No." She turned to walk away.

"Knew you won't do it! My charm is just too much!"

"Don't push it", Buffy snarled, when Piper walked next to her, not looking very pleased.

"I know he is a dog on a leash or whatever you wanna call him", the oldest Halliwell started. "But, if he is your ally, treating him like this is not going to work."

"You know what he has done, right?" Buffy turned to face Piper. "And how he behaves with all of us."

"I've seen everything. And yet, when the Magic Box was attacked, I saw him kill a Demon to help you all out too", Piper reminded, Buffy looking away, not wanting to think about that. "And while he acted like it, didn't seem like he wanted much in return. Tell me, how much of his behavior do you think is in response to how you all treat him?"

"What?" Buffy's face had shock on it. "Are you trying to say-"

"He is harmless now, fights bad guys for you. He may not be a good guy, but with all these factors considered, if you act better to him, he might act better to you too", Piper pointed out, before Wesley came back to them, the Demons from before moving away.

For the last few hours, all of them had been through the monstrous underworld of Los Angeles, and they'd seen the respect with which Wesley and Gunn were treated. It impressed all five of them, yes, even Spike, though he would never admit it.

Angel's team was a force to be reckoned with.

"Anything?" Buffy asked.

"Only what we already know I'm afraid", Wesley said with a sigh. "Angel has been here, and sought Zeke out himself, but had no better luck than us."

"Is Zeke also a half-breed?" Sam asked, as he might be dead in that case.

"No, he is pure-blood", Wesley told everyone.

"I don't get this", Gunn had to say. "We've been following Angel's trail. Don't think his search turned up anything, and now he has disappeared on us. Last he was at Charlie Nickels' place based on the timeline. Where would he go from there?"

"Charlie was….." Buffy trailed off.

"The man at The Ninth Level", Wesley reminded.

"I remember", Buffy said. The man had been old and shrivelled up, and while he was their first stop, he was pretty useless. He'd said Angel had mentioned Axtius, while he was torn up over the death of some Harold Hill, whoever that was.

"Well, sounds like it was his last stop", Bobby turned to Buffy, then Wesley and Gunn. "Where would he go next?"

Wesley suddenly asked Gunn. "How are the killers going around?"

"Maybe the sewers?" Gunn suggested.

"Could be", Wesley realized. "If Angel figured as much, he could have gone to speak to Abner."

Buffy was lost again. "Who's Abner?"

Half an hour later, she got her answer when Wesley led them to a construction area, and a large sewer grating behind it, and then down inside. The smell was so bad.

Spike grumbled in annoyance for most of the journey. And Piper was groaning, as walking places like these was something she'd done much less compared to her other companions.

Wesley's memory was faulty, so they had to backtrack a few times, but in time they came upon a junction where a blockade had been constructed to bar passage into a side tunnel.

"A beaver! A beaver must have made it!" Spike said while pointing at it.

Buffy noticed a passage through the obstruction that seemed roughly four feet square. Wesley had to duck down to move through it.

"Seems like evil is drawn to cities with big sewer systems", Buffy quipped while crouching to follow him.

"Might be right about that", Piper said, as while she hadn't spent time in the sewers, her city had a big system too, and a lot of evil. She was the third to go.

Soon enough, all were on the other side.

"Or perhaps, certain architect designed sewer systems of some cities to accommodate various Demon races", Wesley provided an alternative to them.

"From the things I've seen, you might not be too far off the mark", Bobby said, before they moved further.

"Have to say, not exactly like my first visit to this city", Sam had to say.

"So you came here before? What happened?" Buffy asked.

"A horror movie set was being haunted by a ghost", Sam explained the short version. "We found out the Latin in the script were actual summoning rituals."

"So the writer was aiming for realism, eh?" Spike joked but was ignored.

"The writer told us it was something left over from the script by an older writer", Sam continued the story. "We confronted the older one before he could kill the current one. He was conjuring ghosts to kill those he believed tampered with his script. He destroyed the talisman he was using, but the freed spirits were angry at being used to commit murder, so they killed him instead."

"Never play with forces you can't understand", Piper said darkly, and she was right.

Thirty yards from the barricade, the tunnel curved slightly left and around that corner it dead-ended. Buffy stared speechlessly at the sight that greeted them there. The dead end itself was another barricade similar to the first. In front of it was a kind of nest, the sort of squat that she had heard homeless people had built all over the subway tunnels under New York City. There were bookshelves and ragged carpets, an iron pipe that served as a clothes rack, and a futon neatly made up with a stained Winnie the Pooh bedspread. A huge high-backed chair with the stuffing poking out of several tears finished the picture. Candles burned in dishes set on the concrete all around this bizarre apartment.

Skinned rats hung from long nails that had been driven into the wall.

"Damn it. He's not here," Wesley said, his voice echoing wetly off the damp sewer walls. "

Their attention was grabbed by a shuffling sound they heard from beyond the barricade. They all stared at the opening in the obstruction, beyond which there was only darkness. The shuffling noises stopped. There was a pause, and then a face loomed out of the darkness, a horrid, apelike visage with long, jagged fangs.

The demon was hideous and cruel looking. From what the group could see in the gloom, the back of its head was covered with sharp quills as long as knitting needles.

Buffy, Sam and Bobby shifted their stance to prepare for an attack.

The demon smiled. "Why, if it isn't Abner's friend Wesley! Hello, Wesley!"

Wesley grinned and strode forward into the odd abode. "Abner! Good to see you. Did you ever get around to reading that Steinbeck I loaned you?"

The enormous demon, which turned out to be shaped much like a gorilla, only larger, lumbered farther into the light, and the group saw that his entire back was covered with the savage-looking quills.

He shook Wesley's hand and nodded gravely. "Abner did read the Steinbeck, Wesley. He did. It made him sad. But good sad." The demon studied the former Watcher's hands, and then his expression changed, his eyes going wide with despair. "No books for Abner?"

"Not this time, I'm afraid," Wesley said with earnest regret. Buffy, Sam and Bobby stared at the two of them. Even Piper did.

This was Angel's world, then, good-natured, sewer-dwelling Quasimodo-esque demons and gnarled former humans with a taste for musical theater.

And I thought Sunnydale was strange, Buffy thought. She glanced at Gunn, who shifted impatiently.

Spike simply gaped at Wesley talking to the big, sweet, porcupine-quilled demon and rolled his eyes. Sam, Bobby and Piper decided to stay silent.

"Actually," Buffy said, moving onto one of the carpets, into the flickering candlelight, "we're looking for Angel. Has he been down here tonight?"

Abner blinked and stared at her. He sniffed the air and came a bit closer, then sniffed again. Shyly, he glanced at Wesley. "Pretty girl. Two of them. Don't get lots of pretty girls down here."

"Can't imagine why," Spike muttered, hanging back.

The big demon rose up suddenly, glaring at him, the quills on his back standing straight up like a dog's hackles. "Vampires," Abner said, and he spat on the floor in disgust.

"He's got your number," Gunn noted.

Wesley cleared his throat to get Abner's attention. "It really is important that we locate Angel. The Slayer asked if you'd seen him."

Abner visibly flinched. The quills lay flat and tight against his body, and he stared at Buffy in abject terror, staggering back several steps as though he had been struck. "Slayer?" he cried. "You bring the Slayer after Abner?"

"No, no, I'm not after you," Buffy said quickly, her heart going out to the big, ugly lummox. "I'm a friend of Angel's. We're all"—she glanced at Spike—"he's got trouble, and we're here to help him."

Sam and Bobby were surprised to see such a dangerous looking Demon being so gentle, and even scared like a child at Buffy's mention. This wasn't the kind of sight they usually saw.

The demon shook his head back and forth with such vehemence, Buffy wondered if he was going to hurt himself. "Abner hasn't seen Angel. Nope, nope. Not tonight. Not for weeks. Angel doesn't visit like he used to. Since his old place exploded."

His gaze ticked from Wesley to Gunn to Spike to Piper to Sam to Bobby and back to Buffy. He smiled, and there was something profoundly unnerving about that anxious grin filled with tiny dagger teeth. "Abner going now. Angel's friends make themselves at home. Might be gone a while." With one final, nervous glance at Buffy, the demon slipped out through the rear partition of his sewer apartment and was gone with a damp shuffling of feet.

Buffy felt badly that she had scared him off, but they got the information they had come for. Angel hadn't been down here, as far as Abner knew.

"So we're back to square diddly," she said, sighing.

Wesley nodded. "Let's see if the others have had any better luck." He withdrew a cellular phone from his pocket and punched a button, then stared at the face of it. "Damn. No signal. We'll have to get above ground."

"Well, let's go out as quickly as possible, I don't really like the look of this place", Sam said.

"Yeah, and its not my kind of place either", Piper added.

They travelled back toward the ladder that would lead them up into the construction site where they had made their descent. They passed several minutes in silence and soon came to the ladder.

Down in the sewers, he had been unable to get a signal on his cell phone. But Wesley had climbed only halfway to the surface when the phone began to chirp.

For what seemed an eternity, Angel swam in and out of consciousness, glimmers of awareness punctuated by pain as his broken bones tried to knit themselves back together. During the periods when he was awake, Angel tried to push away the smell of the tar paper roof and the words Axtius had whispered to him.

He focused on the spikes that had been driven through his legs and hands and kept him pinned to the roof. Carefully, slowly, he tried to work his limbs against the cold iron of these impalings. Sure, the stakes would appear out of thin air, but there was a chance he could dodge them in time.

However, the pain was excruciating, and each time he tried to tear one of his hands or legs free he would tumble into black unconsciousness once more. Each time he came to he would gaze at the sky, searching for any signs of the coming dawn. And it was coming, that was certain.

Soon.

The brilliance had begun to bleed from the glow of the city lights as hints of the rising sun turned the sky from black to blue.

Soon it would be time for one final effort to tear himself free, an effort that was sure to leave him unconscious even longer than before, and the stakes would no doubt immobilize him.

How long, he did not know. But too long and it would kill him. In the back of his mind, Angel knew that it was for naught. The heads of the spikes in his flesh were too broad. He would not be able to tear loose without leaving both his hands and the muscle mass of his lower legs behind, and that would be impossible. And the stakes that would appear would prevent his escape.

Sunrise was coming.

He was going to die.

With a roar more of frustration than pain, he tightened his grip around the spikes in the palms of his hands and pulled. Lightning shards of agony shot through his broken shoulder and shattered ribs—undoing any healing they might have accomplished—and in the darkness of his mind it seemed fireworks blossomed.

He could barely feel the wounds in his hands, so great was the other pain. Then he felt flesh and muscle in the palm of his right hand begin to tear, and he let loose a bellow of pain. Unconsciousness claimed him once more.

Angel! Oh, no. We've got to get him inside! Angel!

His eyes flickered open again.

"Wakey wakey, big boy. You're in a tight spot, my tone-deaf amigo, and there's no time for lying down on the job."

The edges of Angel's mouth turned up just slightly. Despite the pain he was in, that voice made him smile. He managed to rotate his head partially to the right, but stopped as his eyes went out of focus.

His last effort had left him completely drained. Any further movement might make him lose consciousness again, and from the look of the lightening sky, he could not afford that. Lorne. Lorne was here. The Host of Caritas was the last person in the world he would expect to play cavalry, but Angel was not about to complain.

His vision slowly cleared, and Angel saw four other figures standing with the green-skinned demon.

Willow.

A stray thought skittered around inside Angel's head, that her hair clashed with the bright orange silk suit Lorne was wearing. Crazy thought. . .

"Willow," Angel rasped.

"I'm here!" she called to him. "He's awake. He's talking— which is good news, right?"

A response came, the voice soft, and Angel frowned as he tried to see through the predawn gloom. The simple scrunching of his eyebrows made his head swim again, but though he could not see her he realized the other person who had arrived with Willow and Lorne was Tara, Willow's girlfriend.

Angel liked her, shy, quiet, powerful.

As he scrunched his eyes, he looked at the two other people with them. But he didn't recognize either one- a young woman with long flowing dark hair, and a young man with hair similar to his, both looking grim.

In the strange fog inside his mind he heard Willow swearing, talking to her lover and to herself in that sweet cadence that he had always been so fond of, fretting over the power of the runes, while the new man was cursing in frustration as well.

". . . down below . . . ," he heard Tara say.

Then Lorne's voice. "... knock the roof out from under him. The magick shouldn't stop the collapse."

The new man. "…..come on, there has to be some-"

Willow. "... covered up until we can figure . . ."

And the new woman. "…Can't even orb-"

Angel closed his eyes. Their voices did not seem to match the movement of their lips. His brain was enshrouded in mist, nothing was working right. There was one thing he knew, one thing he felt quite keenly, however.

His skin was prickling with the unseen heat of the sun. Dawn was still a short way off, but he could feel it, as though his flesh yearned to burn with the sunrise. Lorne, Willow, Tara, the new lady, and the new man could do nothing but bear witness.

The door at the back of the tenement building had been torn off its hinges. The wood cracked as Buffy walked over it, eyes frantically searching the dark for stairs that would take her up. The place stank worse than the sewers they had just come from.

There was filth here, dank walls, leaking pipes, excrement, and worse, the scent of death. Her mind flashed back to the warehouse in Sunnydale where she had found a group of murdered half-breeds, and she realized that if she searched this place she was likely to find a similarly grotesque scene. Sam himself was reminded of the massacre he and Dean had come across, and expected to find something similar too.

Angel, Buffy thought, spotting the entrance to the stairs. As she ran for them she glanced at a window. Even through the grime that covered it, she saw that the gloom had lightened even further. Never had she wished so deeply that morning would not come.

"No!" Wesley said firmly as he came in behind her. Buffy glanced back and saw that he was speaking into his cell phone, not to her. Not that she would have stopped if he had been. Gunn, Spike, Piper and Bobby came in behind Wesley.

Buffy did not even slow down. She sprinted up the creaking steps, leaving them behind even as she heard the dwindling sounds of Wesley's phone conversation with Cordelia.

"No, stay there," Wesley insisted. "We were closer, it only made sense for us to . . . we're here now, yes . . . I'll call you back."

Buffy raced up five flights of stairs. The fifth-floor door to the roof had also been magickally torn from its hinges. It smoldered where it lay on the wood floor, not with fire, but with the sorcerous power that had been used to rip it down.

The Slayer ran past it, up the dozen steps to the roof, Sam right behind her. The sky was a beautiful indigo. On the eastern horizon, golden light gleamed, threatening morning.

"Angel," Buffy whispered. She took in the scene in an instant, frozen there on the tar-paper roof. Willow, Tara, Paige and Dean stood with a garishly dressed demon with horns and streaked blond hair. It had to be Lorne, she realized, the demon from that karaoke club Wesley had told her about, Caritas.

Beyond them, Buffy saw Angel, arms and legs spread out, huge iron nails driven through each of them, crucifying him against the tenement roof. His head was turned slightly toward her, but there was no flash of recognition in his eyes.

He looked drunk, or drugged; he looked completely helpless, and it made her waver for a moment.

Sam stopped next to her, staring at the scene in horror. Buffy was aware of Wesley, Gunn, Piper, Bobby and Spike coming onto the roof behind her, even heard the click of metal on metal and recognized it as the sound of Spikes lighter as he fired up another cigarette.

She smelled the smoke as he took his first drag. None of these things really registered. She was frozen, and the sun was going to come up. Willow called to her.

Spike whistled appreciatively as he saw what had been done to Angel. "Now that's a nasty bit of work."

The Slayer whipped around to glare at him. Spike only raised an eyebrow and took another drag on his cigarette. Buffy spun again and, freed from the paralysis that her fear for Angel had wrought upon her, she felt herself propelled toward him.

Her conscious mind had been overridden by the primitive need, the instinct to save him, and she raced across the tar paper roof toward him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Willow and Dean moving to intercept her, reaching out for her.

Buffy did not even slow down. Tara and Paige called to her to stop. A dozen feet away from Angel, the Slayer struck something, a barrier in midair. Her body danced as though electrified, and then she was thrown backward, twitching on the ground as the magick coursed through her.

It hurt, but she had taken pain before, and far worse than that. Buffy sprang to her feet and tried to see what it was that had stopped her. Whatever was keeping her from Angel it was invisible. She shot a glance at the Witches, the hunter and the lanky demon beyond them, who even now was walking nearer to Angel with his hands out as if sensing the perimeter of the barrier that prevented them from reaching him.

"What is it?" she demanded, knowing her voice was frantic, but not caring.

"Runes. Really, really powerful runes," Willow said, the regret plain on her face. "We've tried a few spells, but—"

"Try some more," Buffy snapped, turning away from her and staring at the roof beneath her feet. She saw them now, symbols and crude drawings carved into the ground.

"Piper", Paige told her. "Its too powerful. Even with Phoebe, we won't be able to take it down."

Piper aimed her hands at the runes carved on the ground, thinking of exploding it. Only, something made her fly back and fall to the ground, screaming in pain. For a second, she felt as if every inside of her had exploded.

Of course that hadn't happened, but she felt like it. Paige rushed next to her, helping her up. "Piper, what happened?"

"It was almost like…." Piper spoke through the pain. "My powers turned on me."

If no one could do a thing, Angel would die.

The injured, barely conscious vampire moved, and the motion drew her eye. Buffy heard him groan in pain and saw him trying to tear his left hand free of the enormous nail that had been pounded through it.

Much as she wanted him to stop, for a moment she prayed he would succeed, as she didn't know of the stake spell.

Instead, his eyelids fluttered and closed and his body went limp.

Willow and Tara began to chant in Latin. Buffy paid little attention to the spell, knowing they would do everything in their power. But on the sorcery grading scale, they weren't at the top yet.

And if even a Charmed One couldn't do it, they didn't have as much of a chance.

Paige orbed the Book of Shadows to her hand, flicking through it.

"Find anything?" Buffy asked.

Paige's eyes suddenly lit up. "A potion…" and then it was gone. "But it'd take hours to make. We don't have that much time!"

"Damn it!" Buffy screamed in frustration.

"Come on!" Dean suddenly took out his gun and shot the barrier, but the bullet disintegrated on touching it, causing him to grunt angrily.

"We have to do something fast!" Sam said, holding his hand out to touch the invisible barrier, before recoiling in pain.

As Gunn stood next to Buffy, Wesley had knelt down to look at the runes, and he swore under his breath. "I can't translate this," he said. "Not in the next few minutes. Not before—" His words died unspoken, but Buffy knew what he was going to say.

Not before the sun comes up.

At her side, Gunn spoke in a low voice, his gaze never leaving Angel's prone form. "Maybe if we try together?"

Buffy glanced at him. Wesley had looked up as well, and now he stood and moved closer to Gunn, with Sam, Dean and Bobby coming close too.

"Let's just try", Bobby said. The six of them took a few steps back, exchanged a glance, and in unison they rushed the invisible barrier above the wards.

Buffy threw herself at it with all her strength, tightening her body up in hopes that the impact would allow her to pass through. Once more she struck the barrier, and pain seared her bones, shot through her body.

She threw her head back, twitching uncontrollably as she crumbled to the ground again. Wesley, Gunn, Dean, Sam and Bobby all shouted in pain and they fell in a heap beside her, the echoes of their agony sweeping across the roof.

Aching, Buffy rose once more. A moment later, Gunn, Dean and Sam did the same. Wesley and Bobby did not get up. They were unconscious.

The upper rim of the sun appeared over the Los Angeles cityscape to the east, the sky on the horizon a pale, perfect blue.

Buffy ran to Willow, staring at her, pleading. "Will?" Willow shook her head, reaching out to clasp Tara's hand.

"We just can't break it, Buffy," Tara told the Slayer. "We've all tried to go through," she said, gesturing toward the green-skinned demon. Lorne, Buffy reminded herself.

Even as she focused on him, Lorne smiled and nodded to himself as he completed his walk around the magickal barrier.

"Whatever I'm trying, it just doesn't work", Paige said in frustration, holding out her hand to try and orb Angel out, but nothing happened.

"Hold tight, handsome," Lorne called to Angel. "That outfit is ruined, but we may be able to save the rest of you."

Buffy rushed to him.

"What do you mean?" she demanded, eyes ticking past him toward the sliver of blazing sun on the horizon.

"What do you know?" Lorne pushed her hands back and brushed the lapels of his jacket. "Simmer down, sister. I want to save the big lug as much as anyone. Took me a minute, but I've translated the scrawl around him."

"Sunrise is coming, green guy!" Dean pointed out.

"Right," the demon said, nodding. "Anyway, whoever installed this baby cast a spell that would hold back anything. That is, any living thing. Demon, human, or otherwise. I guess—given who Angel is and what he does for a living—our bad guy never figured anyone dead would try to help him."

A shiver went through Buffy. The sky was light enough now that she could see the expressions on the faces of everyone on the roof as she turned to glare at Spike, who stood safely in the shadows just inside the door that led back downstairs.

The tip of his cigarette glowed.

He had obviously not been paying attention, but now he seemed to feel them all staring at him and he looked up.

"Spike," Buffy said tentatively. He glanced at each of them. Buffy doubted he had listened to much of what had been said, but he put it all together right there.

"You're the only one who can do it," she told him.

Spike stared at her, glanced at the sunrise, then stared at her again. "Bollocks."

And this one is done too. Angel has been found, and only the person he hates the most can save him.

The Book of Shadows told of a potion that could undo the runes, but obviously, the Book won't know that the spell counted out dead beings in this case, hence why Lorne had to figure it out.

Also, Henry and Coop would be taking care of Wyatt and Chris right now, while Barney is also laying low in the Halliwell Manor.

Hope all enjoyed and see you all next time with another chapter.