Author's note: Happy Fourth of July! One thing. Yes, the Doctor may sound British, but Captain Jack Harkness is American. Sorry for the temporary lull! My brother is leaving tomorrow to serve an LDS mission in France for two years and everything's been really hectic making sure he's happy and has everything he needs...

This one's shorter than my usual ones...I don't know how I feel about it...I feel like it doesn't go anywhere...But here it is...I don't really like how I have Angelus in this chapter...Angelus is difficult for me to pretend to be...Anyone, review and tell me what you think about him.

Random history note: Silwen and Draco have known each other since they were five. Being good friends with the Malfoy family, Severus Snape was often invited over to the manor for dinners, and he brought Silwen along with him. Draco and Silwen met in Diagon Alley, just after Silwen had bought her wand. Naturally, Draco was a showing-off little prick who Silwen took an immediate dislike to.

Ignoring Silwen, Spike spoke to Voldemort. "How long?"

"Until you are satisfied, Mr. William," responded the Dark Lord smoothly, letting go of her. For a second, Voldemort looked at her, pleased with his little plan. Silwen had fallen, into Spike who deftly caught her in his arms. But it wasn't that. It was her face. And what his Legilimency skills told him. Shock was splattered across her face as she looked at Voldemort.

"When you no longer want her, take her to Dr. Horrible's room, two doors down from yours." With a gloating glare at Silwen, Voldemort left them there in the doorway. Distantly, Silwen realized what was going to happen now. But her mind was lost...Lost in memories that Voldemort had mixed in with the potion. Memories that the Dementor had stolen. She had them back. He had given them back. Why, she wanted to know.

Silwen's shock turned into fear. Attempting to procrastinate her new orders, she let her knees give in. Spike dragged her across the floor, then kicked her out of the memories.

"Spike, I want someone to play with," said Drusilla walking over to Spike and putting a hand around his shoulder.

"I'd like to ask her a couple questions," came an unfamiliar voice in the shadows. From them emerged Angelus, appraising Silwen. "You can massage Spike as you talk to me. Spike, sit."

"The Master didn't put you in charge," snapped Spike, nonetheless sitting down and taking off his trench coat.

"Optimum results are given when I have full range of your back," said Silwen at Spike's side.

"Fine." Getting up off the chair, he went to a thick carpet and laid down on his stomach, taking off his shirt. "I'm ready. Go on, love," he goaded.

Silwen blushed, to the chuckles of the other two vampires, as she shakily began prodding Spike's back. It was well-shaped, she noticed, her face getting redder.

"It's not like you haven't seen someone shirtless before..." he said.

Finding a new knot, she began there, remaining silent for a few minutes. Spike didn't need to know that he was wrong, and that his implication was wrong as well. "Sir, you wanted to ask me something?" she said to Angelus.

Taking a seat in a chair close to where Spike was lying, he asked, "What do you know of Voldemort's plans?"

Her hands pausing on a moment, she whispered, "Nothing. Except for the fact that he's planning to start with Hogwarts as a first destruction. Voldemort tells me nothing special."

"The bird sings to too many listeners and doesn't keep her secrets, naughty bird," said Drusilla, sitting right behind Silwen, whose back stiffened as Drusilla began to take her hair and sniff it. Silwen forced herself not to react, concentrating on Spike's back.

"Watch it!" growled Spike when Silwen found a particularly painful spot. He sat up, put his shirt on, then put his hands out. "Switch to my hands, pet." With obedient angst, the little bird started on Spike's hands, pretending to be immersed in the tendons and muscles so as not to meet Spike's smirking stare.

Angelus watched with amusement. "Dru, what can you tell me about our bird?"

Smiling and looking around Silwen's shoulder, she replied, "Little bird has magic blood, she does."

Scrutinizing her, he asked quietly to Silwen, "Do you know what she means?"

Uncomfortable under the stares of all three vampires, she nodded. "Perhaps Spike would like to enlighten you. He experienced it ... twice." Spike's hand tore from her grip and slapped her across the face, making her fall into Drusilla's white laced lap. Looking at her like she was a roasted rabbit, Drusilla smiled a long, sharp smile. Silwen shuddered and sat up, scooting out of her and his reach.

"What does she mean Spike?" demanded Angel.

"Last visit in this house, I played with the girl, and tasted her blood-" Spike broke off, standing up furiously to Angel's accusing eyes. "I was hungry!"

"Get on with it."

"And after a sip or two, I stopped...The girl asked me a couple questions, and I gave her the answers."

"You answered her truthfully?" Angel asked. Spike nodded.

"I didn't have a choice, mate," he said, calming down and dropping to the floor. "You aren't finished yet," he whispered to Silwen, holding out his hand again. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she took it and started where she left off, now trying to placate him.

"How?" This question was directed at the human. Had she found a way to inject her blood with a truth serum? Was she, a silly teenager, a threat to them? Soon after Spike had returned from his second trip, rebellions had erupted all over the country. And they were gaining ground quickly. Even Snow was concerned about the speed and success. Was the girl the cause of it? He gripped one of her arms. "How?" he repeated, his brown eyes scalding.

Her body tensing everywhere save her other hand, Silwen answered, "I have Veritaserum in every drop of my blood, Sir. I got him angry and thirsty enough...then put some inside a Firewhiskey the second time and got what information I could from him and sent it to either the United States or to the Order of the Phoenix in England." Spike started at a sudden pressure in his hands then smirked as the pressure instantly retreated when his fingers bit down on hers, however he motioned for her to continue. And she did.

"I want a demonstration. Show me what effect your blood has," Angelus said, releasing her.

"Not only her blood, Angel," said Spike snidely. "She can't lie when you ask her a question."

Angelus laughed, staring incredulously at Silwen. "Who did you inform in the States?"

"Mr. Rupert Giles."

Standing, he walked over to Silwen and sat on the other side of her, observing her small shivers. She was cornered by three vampires who hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. It was normal to be frightened. But, he thought, it usually didn't look so...adorable. She was quite cute when scared. Perhaps the Master would like her as a present. And if her blood works...Perhaps he could negotiate with Voldemort to let Silwen donate some of her blood as a gift to the Master.

"Dru, do you want to taste?" he said, smiling genially at Silwen who rapidly tried to escape, only to be held there by Spike's hand.

"Ooohh, a special treat!" she responded, bending down, caressing Silwen's neck, removing any strands of hair futilely trying to block her. Drusilla bit Silwen avidly. Dozens of seconds passed, the girl growing fainter as her blood was sipped away. And like a hero, Spike drew Dru off of her. She fell to the ground, ignored.

Smacking and licking her lips, Drusilla's eyes emptied.

"I'm going to ask her, Angel," said Spike and immediately turned back to Drusilla. "Who has hurt you the most? Angel or me?"

"Angel."

"Who do you love most?"

"You."

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"Yes."

Spike glared at Angel and punched him in the face. Angel merely grinned at Spike and looked over at Drusilla, saying, "Care to help me up, Dru?"

She nodded, the vacancy gone, took his hand, and pulled him up.

"I'm finished with her," snarled Spike. With his boot, he pushed her along the floor, out of the room, down the hall, and kicked Dr. Horrible's door, then stomped off outside, cursing. Randomly, he thought, My hands feel much better now. He turned to fake a thank you, but she was gone.