If Wishes Were Horses…

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, I'm just using them for my own amusement, though I have unashamedly borrowed some lines from the show by way of an homage… I've also changed the Master's fiendish plan slightly.

Chapter Three

'Rupert?' came a groggy English voice down the phone. 'Do you know what time it is?'

'Yes, and I'm sorry, Wesley, but this can't wait. I need the Slayer.'

'Buffy? You know the procedure, Rupert – you must apply to the Council, wait for them to verify - '

'Yes, I understand,' Giles cut him off, 'but it's imperative that I see her. Here.'

'I haven't seen her in days,' came the reply, clipped and brusque.

'Well... when will you?'

'I haven't the foggiest.'

'Yes, well, you are her Watcher. I'd expect her to at least check in to - '

'There is a lot for her to deal with here, you know,' Wesley interrupted, distinctly tetchy now.

'Yes, I'm aware that there's a great deal of demonic activity in Cleveland,' Giles retorted.

'So you'll appreciate that we have enough here for Buffy to focus on - '

'Well, it happens, you know, that Sunnydale is on a Hellmouth!' Giles said hotly, irritated beyond politeness.

'I don't really think…'

'It is so!'

'Rupert, I rather suspect you've been reading too many of your own grimoires.'

'Just give her the message, if you ever see her again.' He slammed down the receiver. 'Pillock.'

Martin came down the stairs, running a hand through his dishevelled blond hair.

'How's she doing?' Oz asked.

'She's asleep, she'll be okay,' Martin said. 'She was lucky.'

'Yes, for once it seems luck was on our side,' Giles said. 'Thank you for coming over. I know that doctors seem to be being targeted lately, so it's likely more dangerous out there for you than for the rest of us.'

Martin nodded. 'Glad I could help – that's why I got into this gig, after all.'

Nancy appeared from the kitchen with a plate of sandwiches, Larry behind carrying a pot of tea and cups on a tray. Oz looked at the food, then looked away, settling for a cup of strong black tea. He sat on a dining chair, slumping a little as fatigue overtook him.

'So what now?' Larry asked, munching on a sandwich.

'We wait for Buffy Summers,' Giles said. 'When Cordelia wakes up, hopefully she'll be able to explain whatever it is she was trying to tell me earlier.'

'That reminds me,' Martin said, putting down his cup to reach into his pocket. 'She was wearing this, I took it off for safety's sake.' He dropped a necklace into Giles's outstretched hand, gold links coiling in his palm.

Giles looked down at the pendant, the green stone winking in the low light. Something about it tickled his mind, and he frowned. 'I've seen this somewhere before…'

'Well, you can check it out tomorrow,' Nancy said, mother hen instincts in full swing. 'For now, you need to eat something, then get some sleep.'

'Yes, of course,' Giles said absently. 'Um, I know it's almost dawn but you're all welcome to, uh, to crash here – I only have the one sofa, I'm afraid, but there are spare blankets in the cupboard.'

Everyone nodded, weary beyond belief. Giles glanced up at the ceiling, wondering who the strange girl in his bed was, and exactly what secrets were locked up in her mind.

Spike descended the steps into the dark, dank basement, keys dangling from his fingertips. Sure enough, there was a fully fitted jail cell at the bottom, just like the Master had said. He saw movement inside; a man stirred, lying on his side in the darkness. Chains trailed from his body up to a heavy ring in the wall.

'Well now, what have we here?' Spike said loudly. He cocked his head, listening. 'No heartbeat. Interesting.'

The man's head turned a little, and Spike saw the thinnest edge of his profile. He frowned; familiarity stirred. 'Who are you, mate?'

'William?' It was a croak, dim and faint, but Spike's unbeating heart clenched.

'Angelus?' he whispered. 'Can't be…'

The man turned, sat up painfully against the wall. His hair was filthy and matted, his features twisted with hunger and pain, but it was unmistakably him.

'Angelus!' Spike exclaimed, throwing the cell door open and crouching beside him. 'Man, what are you doin' in here?'

'You know the Master,' Angel said, grinning faintly. 'If you don't keep in line…'

'Yeah, I know,' Spike grinned. 'Worse than Dru in one of her moods. She's here, by the way – well, not here, in a warehouse, and she's not up to full strength, but…man, this is great!' He broke off, laughing. 'I can't believe it's you, you dropped off the face of the planet! How long've you been here?'

'I'll gladly tell you all about it, but can it wait 'til I'm somewhere less…painful?'

'Oh yeah, course,' Spike said, fumbling for the key to the shackles. 'Hold up, Scroteface is lurkin' about upstairs – is there another way out?'

'Yeah, I'll show you,' Angel said urgently.

'Right then,' Spike said, then went still. 'But - what did you do, exactly?'

'Spike, please,' Angel begged.

'Hmm. "Spike, please" – haven't heard that one since you, me and Dru ate that showgirl in Paris. Usually it was more like,' Spike adopted a deep, pompous tone, '"William, do as you're told or I'll rip your thumbs off". You sure you're you – still playing with the full deck?'

'Of course I'm me,' Angel said, vamping out and yanking hard against his chains. 'I'm going crazy down here, they haven't fed me in a week.'

'You do look a bit bony,' Spike mused.

'So let me out, now, or I'll string you up by your ankles and drain you dry, one drop at a time.'

'Promises, promises.'

'William!' Angel snarled. 'Don't test me, boy.'

Spike stared for a second. 'Yeah, it's you,' he said finally, watching Angel revert to his human face. As he leant in to reach the shackles, Spike caught a glimpse inside Angel's loosely buttoned shirt. He paused, slipped open the last button carefully, winced at what he saw. Scores of wounds marred Angel's smooth flesh; some open, some scabbed, some silvery-faint, covering every muscular plane.

'What the hell did you do to piss him off this much?' Spike asked, captivated again by this man's naked torso. Somehow, the bloody wounds made it even more appealing, and he resisted the urge to taste him.

'Spike, listen to me,' Angel said urgently. 'We don't have time for this now.'

'I've got time,' Spike said, sitting down Indian-style and lighting a cigarette. 'Sun-up and all – nowhere to go, no-one to do…so how's about you tell me a story, and if I like it then maybe I'll help you.'

Angel glowered, eyes glinting. 'The Master is opening a factory here in town, and I'm trying to stop him.'

'Why's that exactly – not a fan of capitalism?'

'He's rounding up humans like sheep, putting them in cages. When the factory opens, he'll hook them up to machines and bleed them every few days. He'll be able to keep them alive indefinitely, a never-ending supply of fresh blood. He plans to open these factories in every town, every city, until the human population is in chains.'

'Sounds like a right old knees-up to me,' Spike said, exhaling smoke into the rank air. 'I must've missed the part where I'm meant to care.'

'He thinks it's the future, the way forward, but he's wrong - it'll just take all the fun out of the hunt,' Angel said, voice dropping to that low, wheedling tone he knew Spike couldn't resist. 'C'mon Spike, what's the point in feeding if there's no fun in it? If you can't feel a warm body go limp in your arms, taste the fear spicing the blood, watch the spark in the eyes go dim…?'

'Yeah, right,' Spike said, arousal swirling through him. 'That is the best bit. But hold your horses; he's got you cut to ribbons and chucked in prison 'cos you don't wanna play house? Seems unlikely.'

'He knows I'm a threat to his scheme,' Angel said. 'Think about it – who but Darla ever got to stick around him for long, huh? He's terrified of the idea that anyone else might be as strong as him. How long d'you think it'll be before it's you in here instead of me?'

'Nah, never happen. I'm leaving town in a week, right after he tells me how to cure Dru.'

Angel laughed, breath catching. 'Cure Dru, right. Why would he tell you how to cure her when the two of you combined will be stronger than him? Wake up, my boy.'

'That two-faced, bat-faced bastard,' Spike hissed, eyes narrowing, flicking his cigarette away. 'Evil, heartless, psychotic I may be, but I keep my bloody word! Right then, let's get you out of here.'

Angel's brown eyes followed Spike's every move, hungry and hollow…and far too human.

'No,' Spike said, standing, backing away. 'You're…something's up, you're not you at all! Wait a second - don't tell me you're playing for the home team now?'

Angel stared him down. 'Spike, you don't understand.'

'That's it, innit?' Spike spat, incredulous. 'God, and you thought you could fool me? Me!' Spike paced. 'Un-bloody-believable! You, who knew me inside out – you thought I'd fall for that lame act? What is it, eh? Who's gotten to you?'

'Let me out, and I'll explain it to you.'

'Forget it,' Spike sneered, throwing the keys into the corner and whirling to leave. 'Let yourself out.'

'I know how to cure Drusilla.'

Spike froze.

Author's note: Please review, whether it's praise or constructive criticism - it's amazing how encouraging it is. Thanks!