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God Touched Series

A.Lite

DISCLAIMER: All of the characters appearing in this story belong to the WB

BACKGROUND: Season 4 story

Aftershocks

Cordelia Chase was enjoying herself. She was having one of those normal moments that she’d come to appreciate recently. The source of her enjoyment was painting her nails at her desk.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like working for Angel Investigations. Not at all, having a vampire for a boss had its advantages. Fighting the forces of evil and getting paid (sometimes) wasn’t that bad either. The visions she could live with, despite the head-splitting pain. Personally she felt like God’s mall announcer, saying, “Evil demon rising on West ninth,” instead of “Sears is having a 50 percent off sale.” She could deal with the depressing dreams she’d been having for a week, and she was even semi-okay living without Doyle.

Still, doing normal things just reminded her that she was still Cordelia. Painting her nails into the perfect manicure proved why she had been the Bitch Queen of Sunnydale High. Before the demon and the bomb destroyed the school during Graduation at least. For once Cordelia could actually relate to Buffy now, being the Chosen and all. Buffy had been picked for no good reason to be the Slayer for life, severely limiting her career options, and, since Doyle had saddled Cordelia with his old gift of Seeing the future without her permission, she would be able to see the future until the day she died. Not that she minded Doyle giving it to her; she only wished the Powers That Be could choose one constant time of the day to visit her.

Today’s color was called Urban Sludge, a new bluish purple that matched perfectly with her new sandals. Cordelia had started her first coat when she felt the first and very short warning signs that she was about to get a vision. Her eyebrows twitched on their own violation, and light exploded behind her eyes.

Light and dark, back and forth. The slayer and a child looking into a burning fire. The child opened its mouth to reveal sharp fangs, lunging at Buffy. A shadow staked it, and placed a hand on Buffy’s shoulder, addressing Cordelia directly, “They got me, too, Cordelia, only worse.” The voice, the slayer, the shadow, and the words, “They got me too.”

Her head in her hands, Cordelia waited for her body to relax. The aftermath of these vision/seizures was murder on her shoulders and neck. By the time she was old, say 30, no masseur would want to touch her. In control again she felt her forehead and found the chipped texture of dried nail polish. As she groaned she looked down at her desk and began to scream.

“Angel!” she shrieked. From somewhere in the depths of the office, Angels heard and headed for her.

“Cordelia, what is it?” he asked, eyes alert for danger.

“I had a vision, and it ruined my manicure! I have nail polish on my forehead, and look what it did to my desk.” She indicated her desk, which had its entire surface covered with purple-blue polish.

“What was it?” Angel questioned urgently.

“Urban Sludge. I picked it up at Macy’s a week ago.” Angel sighed in exasperation, and Cordelia continued, “Okay, the vision.” She rolled her eyes, “It wasn’t a ‘big danger, needs help’ vision. It was more of a, I don’t know, something else vision. Buffy was in it.”

“Was she okay?” he gasped quickly, remembering Doyle’s last Buffy vision.

“She was fine, wearing a blue tank top, if it helps. No one was in danger really desperately, like it was already over. Besides, Buffy was just in the vision. She was a supporting character, not the main event. That was someone else,” Cordelia became very thoughtful. “It was someone close to Buffy, someone I knew. I know their voice. They said . . .uummm. . . ‘They got me too, Cordelia, only worse.’ Yep, said that a few times. Oh yeah, there was a little fighting. That someone else I mentioned dusted a little girl vampire, whatever that meant.”

Angel nodded absently, trying to discern what Cordelia’s vision could have possibly meant. There was a loud knock at the door.

“Special delivery for Angel Investigations,” a voice said.

Figuring was part of her secretarial duties, Cordelia grabbed the ever-present stake from her top drawer and went to answer the door. “Hello, how may I help you?” she said in her perkiest voice.

“Are you Cordelia Chase?” the deliveryman eyed her carefully.

“Yes, I’m me.”

“Sign here and take this package.” Cordelia complied, and he handed her a large brown square package. “Thank you ma’am.” He shifted uncomfortably, “This delivery is a few days later than expected because of the mess in Sunnydale.”

“What happened in Sunnydale?” Cordelia said, suddenly feeling rather worried.

“I guess up here in LA you hadn’t heard. There was a three-day power failure. It took out the electricity and even the phones. Some crazies cut the grid in, I heard, twenty different places. The whole town shut down, my company included. Without computers we couldn’t ship anything. I’m sorry for the delay.”

“It’s okay. I was afraid someone had died,” Cordelia said, relief flooding away her worry.

“Ma’am, I’ll be on my way,” he tipped his hat and left.

“Wonder what this is. It says, ‘Cordelia Chase, Angel Investigations. From the Ripper.’ That means Giles, right?”

“That means trouble. He only uses that name when something is up, and he can’t use his real name,” Angel mused, handing her a pair of scissors.

“One way to find out,” Cordelia attacked the tape. Opening the package up, it was full of confetti, and she dug around until she found a small triangle-shaped object. “Willow must have folded this; football notes are so high school study hall.” She unfolded the note and laughed, “It says, ‘Willow did fold this. Read it out loud to Angel.’”

“‘Dear Angel and Cordelia- Greetings, I trust you are both well and wish you future health.’ Blah, blah, blah. Okay, here it gets good. ‘I know you are wondering as to the purpose of this letter. As you are well aware, Buffy has often had prophetic dreams. Recently we have acquired a young girl that appears to have the ability to see the future. While I have not actually seen her yet, Buffy assures me she is currently in good hands, don’t ask, and is about five years old.

Our dilemma is as follows. The seer was rescued from a group of vampires who killed her parents, but showed no apparent interest in draining her. Buffy suspects that they are hunting her and seeking to capture her for some yet unknown purpose. We have been unable to locate any seer lore save that referring to Drusilla in the Diaries. Vampire activity has been at a bare minimum, and we fear they are planning something. Any light you could shed on this matter will be much appreciated, but do not call or write. Come in person for I am of the mind that we are being watched. Till then good-bye.’ Angel, this letter was dated a week ago.”

“Yes, and the power went out in Sunnydale at the same time. Not to mention your episode last week,” Angel added.

“Don’t remind me. Waking up and screaming for two hours straight did not make my night either. Especially with you and Wesley locking all the windows and wandering around with stakes and crosses.”

“You said there was a little girl in your vision. Was she say, five?”

“Could have been. If she was dusted, that would mean she’s dead. . .”Cordelia said very slowly. “And if she’s dead, than whoever touched her-”

“Just got a present,” Angel finished. “I’d be willing to bet that they have no idea. Cordy, do they even know that you’re my seer?” Angel gave her a hard look.

She shrugged, “So it wasn’t something I wanted the world to know. Hi, my name is Cordelia and I see the future? It must be okay cause you kill vampires, you’re a witch, and he’s a werewolf. Besides I like my eyes where they are,” she fluffed her hair remembering Barney the eye-stealing empath demon. “The less people who know the better.”

“But whoever got it now, probably doesn’t have a clue. You’re safe; they’re vulnerable,” Angel observed grimly.

Cordelia picked up the phone and began dialing, but Angel brought his hand down on the receiver, cutting off the call. She was indignant, “Hey, what was that for?”

“No phone calls. The letter said.”

“If their seer already bit the dust, literally, then what’s to worry about? The danger is probably over,” she pointed out.

“We can’t be sure.” His gaze dropped to the tabletop, and then he grabbed Cordelia’s polish smeared fingers.

“What?” she demanded.

“Did you miss this?” He pointed to her paint-covered desk.

“I don’t remember writing that. ‘Another door opens.’ What does it mean?”

Angel was silent for a long second, “When I asked the Powers for Doyle back they said that when one door closes, another opens. You know what that means?”

“Yeah, I know what it means. First, I take off my nail polish, it’s ruined. Second, and almost as important-road trip.” She headed deeper into the office, muttering, “I wonder what I’m gonna wear.”

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“The purpose of this meeting is to address the current problem with patrolling,” Giles said to the group, which had met in his living room that following day, a Friday. Xander sat in a chair by the window, Willow lounged on the couch near Anya, who popped a bubble, having recently discovered the joys of gum. Buffy was propped up in front of the couch, and Spike wandered around the kitchen counter still in his duster.

“Watcher, I do not understand,” Anya snapped her gum.

“Anya, Buffy cannot patrol with Spike every single night. As you saw last week, having our two strongest members in the same place all the time was not the most wise move.”

Willow raised her hand, “Are you saying that because Buffy was always at Spike’s, we ‘normals’ may have missed out on all the stuff those vampires were doing.”

“Precisely Willow. I intend to have a rotating schedule so we won’t be so predictable.” He uncovered his brand new economy size wipe-off board. “Since Oz. . . left, we’ve been a bit on the short side for supernatural senses in the non Slayer or vampires among us.”

“Ooh,” Xander quipped, leaning back in his chair. “We’ve entered a new millennium, and Giles went all high-tech. Initiative look out. We’ve got ourselves the cutting edge of technology!”

“Let’s see if Buffy is hearing the same thing as all of you. According to this chartish thing, I patrol five days a week, and Spike patrols five days a week. Everybody else signs up for the other four spots,” Buffy said.

“Except of course, that you and Spike cannot choose the same nights off,” Giles blew on his glasses. “And this schedule will change weekly.”

“I get it,” Willow exclaimed. “The vamps, and demons, and witches, and everything will never know who they’ll meet up with when.”

“Red,” A voice said from the back. “I know you miss dog-boy, but don’t let it effect your job here,” Spike said this loudly, pouring himself a cup of blood from the refrigerator.

The group stared at him. Buffy winced inside; Spike had been acting a little strange since Eve died. She had supposed he was still grieving in his own way. It didn’t disrupt the smoochies in any way. A rush of warmth ran up her, remembering his mouth and hands all over her. . . She shut the thoughts down because they had no intention of telling anyone in the Scooby gang yet. Maybe that was the problem. After Eve had died, the gang had accepted him as one of them. (Secretly Buffy believed Willow had a hand in this, since she was the only one Buffy had mentioned Spike’s grief to.)

“Look, Dead Boy number two,” Xander said standing. “That was out of line.”

“No, you and demon-girl are so preoccupied with the shagging you’re gonna do after this; you’re not paying attention either.”

Xander shut his mouth, and Anya paused mid bubble. Buffy cringed again because the couple had been paying attention. At least she’d thought so. Judging by their faces though, they must not have been.

Giles cleared his throat, “While that was all very interesting, can everyone sign up now?”

Grumbling, the gang converged on the board and wrote their names down. Anya and Xander paired up with Buffy on Monday and Tuesday with Giles and Willow taking Wednesday and Thursday respectively.

After that the group began to head off in different directions. Spike disappeared out the front door, and Xander and Anya headed toward Xander’s house. Willow caught Buffy by the door. “Buffy, Spike was so right. I was brooding about Oz again. Today, being a Friday and all, there’s the weekly party at Delta Theta. You coming? Riley will probably be there.” She gave Buffy an inquiring eyebrow.

“I can’t,” Buffy cast a glance at where she had last seen Spike. “I did majorly neglect my whole studying deal while I was taking care of Eve. Professor Walsh gave me a chance to make it up as long as I turn in all these extra credit reports. You know the drill, a stupid Slayer is a dead Slayer.”

Willow nodded, “I understand. I’ve gotta ask Giles for some stuff before I head to the party. See you later then. Around three, I think.”

“See ya,” Buffy hefted her stake and headed out into the night.

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“Well, that meeting was productive,” Giles said as Willow helped him carry the wipe-off board into the back room. They put the cover back on, concealing the new schedule.

“I need some ingredients to whip up another locator spell to put in Spike’s coat, since we used the last one,” Willow said.

“I am rather vague on the reason Spike still needs one.”

“I know he doesn’t talk about it, but the Initiative is still out there. And if he is ever caught, I don’t know what Buffy would do.”

“Point taken, seeing as we trust him enough to let him patrol without Buffy, we might as well protect him from his enemies,” Giles agreed. “What do you mean about not knowing how Buffy would react?”

She raised her hands in a gesture of confusion. “I don’t know. Those two are closer since they got Eve. She got a little harder, and I think he mellowed. I’m kinda jealous,” Willow admitted.

“That’s understandable, the two getting closer. After all, they did have a child together,” Giles stopped himself. “I mean, they did not actually have a child-”

“I know what you meant,” Willow giggle. “Sometimes I wonder-”

Whatever she was wondering was interrupted by someone banging on the door.

Armed with the required stake and cross in her coat pocket, Willow opened the door to be greeted by a vampire and something almost as scary.

“Angel, Cordelia, come on in!” She let them in. Angel was his usual self, tall and dressed in his signature black. Cordelia too was making her usual flawless fashion statement, her hair twisted up and wearing a slinky blue number. She lacked, strangely for her, some nail polish. “So, you got our letter?”

“Yesterday. Are we too late?” Angel inquired, scanning the room.

“If you mean in respects of the seer, she is dead,” Giles said. “She died last week.”

“What happened?” Angel asked.

“Drusilla and her pet fungus demon tried to use Eve, the seer, to bring the power of the Gods to earth,” Giles shared.

“But first they knocked out all the power in Sunnydale to heighten the confusion,” Willow added.

“So what happened to good ole Dru?” Cordelia asked as she checked her hair in the window.

“She’s dust. So’s Eve,” Willow answered flatly.

“Sorry,” Cordelia said quickly. “I didn’t know you were close.”

“We weren’t, but don’t talk like that around Buffy right now.”

Angel coughed politely, “Cordelia and I are here because of the letter and because we need to talk to all of you.”

“You just missed the group meeting, unfortunately. Is it urgent? Because we are having another one tomorrow,” Giles said apologetically.

“It’s fine.” Angel sighed, “If it waited a week, one more day won’t hurt.” Staring at the floor, he carefully offered up a question, “Where’s Buffy tonight?”

“At our room studying,” Willow replied.

“Do you think she’d mind if I paid her a visit?” Angel said slowly.

“Not at all. Be careful though. She has been a little moppy since Eve died. Okay, a lot moppy sometimes, but grief does that. Just go on in, I invite you.”

“At least we’ll have something to talk about.” He started toward the door, “See you tomorrow.”

“At seven o’clock tomorrow night,” Giles called after him.

Cordelia turned, “ So, where is the gang tonight?”

Willow hesitated, “Buffy’s studying, Xander and Anya are probably at his house, and I couldn’t even guess where Spike is.”

“I forget sometimes that he’s not playing for the other team anymore,” Cordelia commented. “So, what’s the night life like around here?”

“Other than the Initiative wandering around and the odd vampire or demon trying to destroy the world, basically frat parties.” Willow checked her watch, “Which reminds me, I’m due at Delta Theta.” She eyed Cordelia warily, “I can’t believe I am actually doing this. Cordy, do you want to come with me?”

“Really?” Cordelia said eagerly, and stopped herself, saying suspiciously, “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to go by myself. Cause I want to catch up on news, but mainly because I don’t want to intrude on Angel’s Buffy time if I get bored at the party. Besides, you’re familiar, and hanging out with Angel hasn’t seemed to change you much.”

“Way more than you think, I bet,” Cordelia replied mysteriously.

“How?”

“Most of this is going to wait for tomorrow’s meeting. For now let's say, I have seizures, only sometimes.” She and Willow headed out into the dark. “Though, honestly Willow, before we go anywhere, we have got to do something about that ensemble.”

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*Freud was out of his mind,* Buffy thought to herself, flipping through the Psych chapter she was supposed to be reading. When she had gotten home, she’d changed for bed, a little blue tank top and a pair of loose cotton black pants, and then she tried to crack down on the homework. The amount of work she had to make up was pretty big, since college had taken a backseat to caring for Eve. Not that she minded because Eve had been worth the effort. She closed her eyes and envisioned Eve’s little face saying, “Mommy Buffy.”

So involved in her thoughts, Buffy ignored the rush of displaced air through her open window, discounting it as the wind. She was turning her mind back toward the book, and a British vice whispered into her ear, “Bond.” A cool tongue licked her earlobe, sending a jolt down her spine. “James Bond.”

“Spike,” she confirmed and rotated her head to give him a long deep kiss that went on and on.

When they pulled apart, Buffy was panting for air, and Spike was trembling ever so slightly. “Never figured out what you Americans found so great about him.”

“He was sexy. Dead sexy. I saw all of his movies.”

Spike shook his head in disgust, “Why did the girls always go for him? He wasn’t that sexy.”

“It was the danger,” Buffy said, understanding how they felt. “He was something they knew was forbidden.”

“Maybe I could learn to like him,” Spike took off his duster and laid it on her chair. Nuzzling her neck, he asked, “How’s the studying, Buffy?”

A wave of warmth swept through her; he only called her by name when he was sure they were alone, and he was about to ravish her. “Not so hot. Some psychology guy named Freud,” her voice shook as his hands began to roam underneath her tank top. “He was into all of these sexual stages.” She eyed him spectivately, “I already know what stage you’re going to be in forever.”

“What’s that, luv” his voice was harsh , watching her rise from her chair.

Her answer was to unbutton his red outer shirt and lean into him. Spike held himself very still, attempting to maintain a little control. “The oral stage. It’s the one where taste is the most important sense.” She bit one of his flat nipples through his black T-shirt.

Spike growled and yanked her roughly against him, fastening his mouth to hers. He lifted her up and tossed her on her bed before he pounced on her. He began to kiss her madly, running his hands across her body.

Mid-kiss, she untucked his shirt and unbuckled his belt. Her hands reached lower, but he hissed and grabbed them back. Pinning both her hands above her head with one arm, Spike backed off for a second to stare into her wide eyes.

He dropped his other hand and ran it lightly over her heaving chest, smiling as her nipples tightened. Buffy pressed herself further into his hand and moaned. He paused, hand on her breast, “Forget to put on your bra?”

“That’s not all I forgot.” Freeing a hand, she pulled his face down to hers and thrust her hips onto his, grinding against him. Intent on making him feel as wild as she did, she purposely cut her tongue on one of his teeth to let him drink a little of her blood.

As expected, Spike went crazy at the taste of her warm blood. Vamping out, he slid his hands under her shirt, caressing her breasts with rough strokes. Moving down, he delivered a set of mock vampire bites to her neck as he tweaked her nipples with one hand. Buffy screamed in pleasure and responded by arching her back to give him better access to her throat.

Lost in each other, neither heard the door open.

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Angel climbed the stairs to the floor Buffy’s room was on. The desk clerk had assured him upon registering Angel as a guest, that Buffy had not registered any other visitors. That meant he would get a chance to explain the whole situation about the seer to her before tomorrow’s meeting. He also had the purely selfish motivation to just spend a little time with her.

The hall was deserted when he reached it. It didn’t bother him very much; Cordelia had explained that weekends in colleges were mainly parties, so no one would be in the dorm this early. He didn’t have any premontions of danger, and since Cordelia had been quite positive about there being no danger, he wasn't worried.

The desk clerk had given him Buffy’s and Willow’s room number, 214. Arriving at the door, Angel debated on what he would say to her once he knocked on the door. The point became moot because he heard Buffy’s scream from within.

Adrenaline surging through him, Angel flung the door open and took in the scene before his eyes.

Buffy was lying on the bed, arms flailing wildly in all directions, and his childe, Spike, had his face buried in her neck.

Snarling with rage, he pulled on his game face and seized Spike by the collar. Smashing Spike’s face into the wall was especially satisfactory since not only was Spike vamped out, his mouth was telltale red from Buffy’s blood.

“I knew you couldn’t be trusted,” Angel hissed and reached into his pocket for a stake.

“Wait just a bleeding second, ‘Dad,’” Spike tried to calm him.

“I think I got the general idea, ‘Son,’” Angel replied, pushing the stake at Spike’s heart.

His motion was disrupted by a surprise attack on his right that knocked the stake out of his hand. He spun to face his new opponent and reeled back as a round-house connected with his face. Angel dropped Spike who landed on his feet in time to pull Buffy back, saying, “Thrashing Mr. Hyde is not going to help.”

Angel shook his head to clear it, taking in the couple before him. A Buffy he hardly recognized stood slightly in front of his again human-looking errant childe. Her neck was untouched, and her eyes were flashing angrily. “What do you think you’re doing?” she spat out.

“Saving you from him,” Angel pointed at Spike.

“Do I look like I need saving?” Angel paused at Buffy’s statement, noticing Spike’s hand curled possessively around the Slayer’s waist. Then he saw the open book on the desk, and Spike’s beloved duster hanging on the chair. A glance at the two confirmed a fear he was completely unprepared to deal with. Spike’s hair was a mess, his red shirt almost off, his T-shirt rolled part way up, and his belt undone. The love of his immortal life had all of her clothes on except they seemed rumpled. Her hair was all mussed, and it was pretty clear that she wasn’t wearing anything under her blue tank top or pants. He was honestly shocked speechless.

“Well, it’s nice to see we’re out in the open now, Slayer,” Spike announced loudly, breaking the silence.

“How long?” Angel gaped.

“How long have we been shagging? ‘Bout a week. Been shacked up for a month if that counts,” Spike leered, bending closer to Buffy who shook him off.

“Shacked up?” Angel echoed. “Why didn’t Willow tell me?”

Buffy apparently decided to end the male clash in her room. “Spike, this may be a good time to go home.”

“No. I deserve to see Peaches here get the full story. Eve was under my protection first,” Spike replied stubbornly crossing his arms.

“And look where it got her,” Angel snapped without thinking.

Spike shot past Buffy to deliver a brutal uppercut to Angel’s jaw, following it with a jab kick to the ribs. “You have no clue what you’re blabbering about!” he yelled, preparing to punish Angel’s face.

Further violence was prevented by Buffy dragging Spike away. “Stop or you’ll bring the Initiative down on us all.” Spike glared at her, and her attitude softened, “Spike, please go. Just for now. I’ll call you as soon as I can.” She gave him a very long and passionate kiss. Angel couldn’t watch, staring at the floor in an effort to ignore Buffy’s gasps of enjoyment.

Finally letting her breathe, Spike was smiling down at her, “I’m going, but I’m not happy.” He flashed his demonic vestige at Angel, “Hurt her, wanker, and I guarantee you’ll wish you were in Hell again.” He stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

It pained Angel to see the hurt and tenderness on Buffy’s eyes as she watched Spike go. She used to look at him with that look. Buffy turned to him, “You’d better sit down. Take Willow’s bed.”

Angel sat, “How and why are you with him? How could you two have been living together? Willow seems to think you live here.”

“I do,” she said quickly, “At least lately.” Angel shot her a look full of confusion. “Eve, the seer. She was five. The vampires got her parents, but Spike save her and killed the vamps.”

That was new to him. “I thought Spike couldn’t hurt anyone.”

“Turns out that’s a kinda ‘humans only’ rule. Vampires and demons don’t count. As I was saying, Spike rescued her and took her to his house.” A thoughtful but sad expression stole across her face, “Eve was incredible. She brought out the best in everyone, even Spike.” Her voiced dropped conspiratorially, “She called him ‘Daddy William.’”

“‘Daddy William?’” Angel smiled. “I bet he loved that.”

“Actually he did,” Buffy’s reply startled him. “Spike would do anything for her,” The softness in Buffy’s face reminded him of just how beautiful she was. “And Eve loved him. I mean she loved me, Mommy Buffy, too, but Spike was first to her."

“Did she know about his . . . condition?” Angel had the terrible desire for something with Eve to have gone badly for Spike.

“That he was undead? Yeah, she knew, only she didn’t care,” She faced off into the distance, and Angel could see she was thinking of the little seer. “Somehow she could see inside us.”

“How did this bring you to living with Spike?”

“Eve believed her ‘parents’ should live together. So I slept over every night.”

“Alone?” Angel asked before he could stop himself.

Her head snapped back like he’d hit her. “What kind of a question is that?”

“Sorry, none of my business,” Angel apologized, his question answered by her reaction. Yes, she slept in Spike’s bed nightly. “If you weren’t really together then, when did it happen?”

Buffy flushed a deep crimson, “The night Eve died. Afterwards.”

“How did Eve die?” Angel changed the subject. He did not want to know the details about his love finding solace in the arms of his childe. He didn’t even want to think it.

“She died because the Powers of Exponents or something picked her to the their Voice.”

“The Powers That Be,” Angel corrected.

“Them. Dru was going to use her as a big battery for the power of the gods. Eve would have been like the Energizer Bunny, ‘just keeps going and going.’ They had to kill Eve to get the power, but it was only temporary.”

“So they made her a vampire,” he ventured.

She nodded with diffuculty, “We had to stake her. I’m sure you know what it’s like with Doyle.” She burst into tears, “I miss her.”

He ran to her and put his arm around her. This was his Buffy, the one that was scared and vulnerable. Not the one who had been with Spike; the one who would cry in his arms. “It’s okay,” he soothed.

“It’s not!” she wailed. “She couldn’t even defend herself. And she was our only link to seeing the future.”

“I felt the same way when I lost Doyle.” He forced Buffy’s tearstained face to look into his eyes, “But I went to the Powers, and they told me that when they shut one door, another opens.”

“Another opens?” Buffy lifted her eyes.

“I got a new seer, Cordelia.”

She recoiled in shock, “Cordy can see the future? Now that gives me the wiggins.” Buffy thought for a second,"How did she-”

The door opened, and Spike staggered in. “Forgot my coat,” he slurred, not really seeing them. He focused on Buffy for a second, “Buffy, I-” Spike’s eyes unexpectedly rolled back in his head, and he collapsed on the floor, shaking uncontrollably.

“Spike!” Buffy yelled, springing from the bed.

A thought suddenly occurred to Angel, “Wait!” He caught Buffy’s arm, “Who was the last person to touch Eve while she was alive?”

She tried to pull away, but Angel held her fast, “Spike. Why does that matter?”

“Cordelia was the last person to touch Doyle, and she was passed his power,” Angel said urgently.

“You mean that Spike is now the Voice?” she gaped when he let her go. “Then this shaking thing is. . .”

“Normal,” Angel finished for her.

Buffy cradled Spike’s quaking head in her lap. “How long do these last?”

“It depends. Usually less than a minute.”

They watched Spike spasm on the floor in silence for a few more seconds. As quickly as it had come, the twitching stopped, and Buffy sighed in relief.

Spike sat bolt upright, “We have to get out of here.”

“We do? Why?” Buffy asked, worry evident in her voice.

“No, not you.” Spike shook his head, pointing at Angel, “Us. The Initiative is coming here.”

“How do you know?” Buffy said urgently.

“Don’t know, but I know I won’t be able to even touch them.”

“I can stop them.” Buffy set her jaw, and Angel was amazed to see her willing to harm other humans, or what he assumed were humans.

Kissing her softly, Spike replied, “No, luv. Riley’s with them, and you can’t stop them all.” His pupils dilated, “They’re coming up the stairs.” His tone was flat.

“What’s the Initiative?” Angel wondered as Spike pushed him toward the window.

“The local on-campus inhuman hunters. They’re responsible for Spike’s human-free diet. He escaped before they could do worse,” she added, shutting and locking the door. She turned her stereo on loudly.

“And that wanker you used to date is their leader!” Spike commented, climbing out the window after Angel. “Ready?” he shot a look at Angel.

Angel nodded, “Ready.”

“Good luck,” Buffy planted a peck on Angel’s forehead and gave a much longer one to Spike’s lips.

“Gotta go, Slayer,” Spike said heavily, gripping Angel’s wrist and jumping off to the ground two stories below.

They landed hard, but rolled to their feet. “Come on,” Spike yelled, racing toward the darkened campus green. Angel gave chase, unaware of where they were heading.

Spike stopped abruptly in the path. They were near the brightly lit Delta Theta frat house at which a party was going full swing. “Willow and Cordelia are in there. The Initiative boys can’t get us in there. Too many witnesses.”

“How do you know Cordelia and Willow are in there?”

“If I knew I’d tell you,” Spike answered and then said, “Well, actually, I probably wouldn’t.”

“Why were you coming back to the room?” Angel wanted to judge the extent of Spike’s Seeing powers.

“Okay, I’ll share. I was halfway out the dorm when I realized I left my duster. It wouldn’t have been much of a bother ‘cept I needed to go back to the room and get it.”

“But how did you know about the Initiative?” Angel pushed.

“Hell if I know. During that shaking thing, I saw them with that bloke Riley leading them. And then I felt them. I just knew we were being hunted.”

“You’re taking this very well,” Angel commented.

“This is Sunnyhell, if I didn’t accept things by now I would have staked myself.”

Angel grabbed Spike’s shoulder, angry at his flippancy. “Do you have any idea how serious your situation is?”

Shoving him off roughly, Spike raised his chin, “Look Poofy, I was planning to have a good shag tonight with my new and very dangerous girlfriend. That would have been the most unsupernatural thing to happen this week. But since that plan is pretty much shot, I’m rolling with the punches. I’m hired muscle here; I trust the Watcher and the Slayer’s groupies to figure out my problems later.”

“You trust them?” Angel coughed in disbelief. “When did that happen?”

“Not sure exactly. It could have been when they stopped me from killing myself. Or it was the time I saved a seer. How about when I started staking every vampire that crossed my path. Maybe it happened when I slept with my own natural enemy, the Slayer. Contrary to common opinion, the groupies do have their uses.”

“Like?” Angel couldn’t wait to hear this.

“For starters, they are alive and bleeding. Secondly, they keep the Slayer happy. And other than their odd ability to get the right answer against all odds, they are also, as we will now demonstrate, so brutally normal that they provide excellent cover against the demon-hunting Initiative.” He started forward to the doors of the house.

Angel fell in step, “So you do this often?”

“On occasion,” Spike stated shortly, and Angel got the distinct idea that he should drop that line of questioning. Spike reached the door and motioned for Angel to enter. “By the way, we’re friends visiting Willow. Breathe a word about me and Buffy, and I’ll stake you. Got it?”

“Crystal,” Angel confirmed.

“Always nice to know. Now into the lion’s den.” They stepped into the house.

Part II

Aftershocks

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“Why did you make me change my clothes?” Willow yelled over the music at Cordelia.

Cordelia checked Willow’s altered outfit and look, allowing herself a genuine smile at the improved product. After agreeing to go to the party, Cordelia took Willow directly to Angel’s car and made some changes. First they had switched Willow’s mini-T with a black slinky top. The additional twists Cordelia had added and the darkened make-up gave an alluring almost witchy look to the previously much plainer Willow. “Because I was not going anywhere with someone wearing thrift store clothes. Besides, do you really have any complaints?” She added.

In all honesty, Willow shouldn’t have had any complaints since, upon entering, they had been mobbed by fraternity guys. Something just seemed to attract them. Whether it was Willow’s mysterious smoky look or her own stunning personality, Cordelia couldn’t say. Currently they were lounging on a sofa, surrounded by a large group of males. A few females wandered around the fringe, obviously annoyed with the unexpected competition of these two new beauties. *Tough luck,* thought Cordelia. *I wasn’t the Queen of Sunnydale High for nothing.*

Leaning back against someone’s arm, probably a Jason, Cordelia asked a question that she’d been thinking on, “Hey, are you sure Oz would be into me letting you do this?”

Willow stopped mid-grin, “He doesn’t have a say since he left.”

“He left?! I saw him a few months back during that jewelry problem. He seemed fine,” Cordelia said, recalling the last time she’d seen Oz was when he helped them with the Gem of Amara.

“Let’s say he had to answer the call of the wild,” Willow revealed mournfully.

“Oh bummer.” And she really meant it, dating a werewolf must have been tough. That was one reason she tried to stick within her own species. She hadn’t succeeded because Doyle had been half demon, even if she found out only in the very end. “But there are so many eligible guys here.” To demonstrate she winked at a blonde who responded by sidling up to her.

“True,” Willow agreed and engaged a guy sitting next to her in conversation.

After some dancing, they returned to their sofa. Their group of admirers offered them their choices of alcohol, but both turned it down. While she had no idea what Willow’s motivation was, Cordelia did not drink because she had seen the crutch it had become for Doyle and his visions.

“Willow, where have you been hiding this friend?” A handsome dark-haired boy asked. Cordelia gave him a suggestive smile which he returned. He was one of the cuter guys in the crowd, and he appeared to be an upperclassmen.

To Cordelia’s surprise, Willow clutched Cordelia’s arm and said in a very cold voice, “This is my cousin, Cordelia. She’s off limits to you, Parker.”

Parker paid no attention to Willow’s comment. “Are you single?”

A cold hand clamped down on Cordelia’s shoulder and a voice more frigid than Willow’s replied, “Not in this lifetime, mate.”

Cordelia spun around to see Spike’s blonde head. Before she could protest in any way, she spotted Angel behind him. Angel gave her a slight nod, signaling her to along with the game.

“I remember you,” Parker came closer to Spike. “You were with that blonde Harmony or something. I heard you were like an alcoholic.”

“Funny, I heard you were just voted UC Sunnydale male slut. I guess breaking the record for laying the most freshmen does entitle you to some bragging rights. Oh, how’s the syphilis treating you these days?”

Cocking a fist, Parker advanced on Spike, “What did you say, you dumb Brit?”

From behind, Angel caught Parker’s fist and said, “We don’t need any trouble. Spike and I came to collect our girlfriends for a little dancing.” He ducked as Parker swung at him with the other fist. Angel slapped him with a short left that dropped Parker to the floor. He glared at Angel and Spike darkly, but made no move to continue the fight.

Angel had only used a small portion of his real strength, Cordelia knew, or there would have been broken bones. The fact that Angel was in complete control of his temper was a sign there was no immediate danger.

“That’s taken care of,” Spike concluded, pulling Cordelia to her feet. “Do be a luv, and dance with us.”

Seeing Willow rise and head to the dance floor with Angel, Cordelia wrapped her arms around Spike and said, “Sure, darling.”

“Better luck next time, mates,” Spike called over his shoulder to her disappointed admirers.

They headed toward the dance floor and started moving to a slow beat. Cordelia examined her new ‘boyfriend’ critically. He was a handsome devil all right, devil being the key word, all dressed up in black leather and red silk. He was missing his customary duster which was strange since good side or bad side, Spike seemed to wear it wherever he went. His arms, she had to admit, felt very comfortable, and being held by him cleared the clutter in her head.

“Okay, nice to see you and Angel have the good cop, bad cop act down. I have three simple questions. One: why are you and Angel here? Two: what’s up with Parker? And third and most important: why in the Hell did you date Harmony? I saw her die at Graduation!”

“Die is too strong of a word, don’t you think? She’s living the undead high life as we speak. I was with her only for a little bit while the Slayer dated Parker, who, by the by, is a complete wanker. He ditched her after he got what he wanted.” There was some definite lingering resentment in his voice.

Buffy getting laid and dumped right away? Sweet trusting Buffy had gotten the short end of the stick on that one. “Now about the you being here thing?”

“Turns out, true to Sunnyhell form, there’s this group of dumb humans that hunt and experiment on non-humans.”

“Oh, is that how you lost your ‘grr?’” Cordelia had been wondering about that. All she’d heard was that he was on their side now. “Did you get a soul? Its that I think you would have a hard time living all eternity, or even a month, without getting any . . .” Her voice trailed off as she realized what she said and to whom.

He laughed, annoying her, “Hell, no. No soul for me. I’m enough the poof as it is without one.” He licked his sharp canines, “And yes, I still get some, often.”

“Who? It’s gotta be with humans!” Cordelia forced herself to shut up.

“Not telling,” Spike danced them in a circle and said, “My, aren’t they cute?”

She turned to see Angel and Willow wrapped together in the slow music. They were a cute couple, Angel dark and as usual brooding, and Willow standing out against him like a flame. Together they oozed some kind of aura of mystery and danger. Cordelia gave herself another mental pat on the back again for Willow’s transformation. The two were certainly a striking couple, maybe the hottest couple on the floor with the possible exception of herself and Spike. She felt a pang of grief as she wondered how Doyle would have felt in her arms. Spike was all muscle and flair, but from their conversation, he had to belong to someone else.

“Nice to see Red not mopping over the wolf,” Spike broke into her thoughts and looked down at her. “You need to stop grieving though.”

Cordelia jerked back, “What did you say?” *How had he known?*

“You're grieving, any idolt can see that. It’s been, what, a few months now? Would he want you to torture yourself like that?” Spike sounded very sincere.

“How do you know how I feel? I don’t even let Angel know how I still miss Doyle.” She remembered Barney the empath demon had talked to her like that. “When did you get so sensitive?”

“Eve. She felt enough for everyone. I think the Powers made her like that.” Spike focused into the distance, "Sometimes I think they got me too. Cordelia, only worse.”

His words echoed in Cordelia’s mind. The vision, the familiar voice, the hand on Buffy’s shoulder. It all clicked. “You!” she said in a strangled tone, now understanding Spike’s attitude toward Parker. “You’re sleeping with Buffy?”

Spike gave her a look of total despair, “What is it with you people? Can anything stay secret around here?”

“You are sleeping with Buffy!” she repeated louder this time.

“Stow it,” he snarled. “Willow doesn’t know. Neither does the Watcher, Xander, or demon-girl. How did you know about me and her?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m a seer. I inherited Doyle’s power because I was the last one to touch him.”

Spike froze where he was dancing, “I was the last person to touch Eve.”

“You were? That’s cool. Now I have someone to compare migraines with, even if you are an ancient undead guy.”

“Great, now I’m on the same level as the stupid cheerleader.” Cordelia stepped back in hurt at his words, but so did he, wincing like he had been hurt too. “Sorry, Cordelia. I didn’t mean that.” He paused, "Some bloody way, hurting your feelings also hurt me.” He dragged her toward Willow and Angel. “I can’t take this anymore; we’re getting out of here.”

“Red, time to go. I was going to wait for tomorrow, but now I can’t,” Spike closed his eyes briefly, and Cordelia almost could see him extend his calm outward. *I don’t do that,* she thought as she felt herself relax. “The stormtroppers aren’t around. Now is our chance to high-tail it to the Watcher’s.”

Angel raised a questioning eyebrow at Cordelia. She held up her hands, “Hey, he’s the one. He knows about me now, plus I think he got some add-ons, as in CD player, cigarette lighter add-ons.”

“Whatever,” Spike said. “Like the mouthy one says, ‘let’s rock and roll.’”

Willow giggled, “Oh, the wisdom of Xander.”

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Buffy watched the two vampires land in the grass below her window and breathed a sigh of relief. As she closed the window, she hoped that between the two of them they could elude the Initiative without killing each other. Maybe Spike’s new ability to See the future would come through. Even if it did, she had better try not to anger Riley too much. He was a top dog in the little secret agent hierarchy. It wasn’t that she disliked him now; it was just that with Spike as competition Riley couldn’t compare. She also couldn’t feel bad about choosing Spike over Riley. All she did was date Riley for a little bit; there had never been any commitment on either party.

Someone knocked on her door. She answered it and, true to Spike’s prediction, it was Riley with a group of seven guys behind him.

“Hi Buffy,” he said, scanning the room for any other occupants. He faced his companions, “No bats in this room. I’ll check, but you go on ahead.” Apparently that was some sort of code because his friends departed quickly. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, it’s not like you need to be invited,” she said innocently, sitting in her chair that had Spike’s duster on it.

He hadn’t missed her thinly veiled reference to vampires. “So you know why I’m here,” Riley stated.

“No. Why are you here?” She fiddled with her radio. He was going to have to accuse her of something; she wasn’t going to say anything unless he said it.

“I don’t get it Buffy. You tell me you’re the Slayer, yet we find two hostile STs in here. One was even Hostile 17. But when we get up here, they’re gone. I don’t see any dust so they must have left. Why were they here, and why did you let them go?”

She spun her chair, leaning against Spike’s comforting leather jacket. “Has it ever occurred to you that not all non-humans are bad?”

"What?” Riley stared at her like she’d sprouted wings and flew away.

“And what do you classify as non-humans, so later I can make sure I avoid any?” Buffy asked, growing angry with his unquestioning obedience to the Initiative. She rapidly forgot her resolution to stay friendly.

“Well, they’re vampires, demons, werewolves, or anything else that is superhuman,” Riley said uneasily.

“Care to vague that up a little more? Cause according to that, I’m not human.”

“Our scans classified you as one hundred percent human,” Riley assured her.

“You scanned me!” Buffy was outraged. “The fact that I have a twenty foot vertical or that I can bench five hundred pounds is normal? I’ve met witches, slayers, seers, vampires, werewolves, and demons. There were some good and some bad, but according to you, they are all dangerous non-humans.”

Riley was taken aback for a second. Regaining his composure he pressed on, “Who were those two vampires?”

"Remember how I told you I dated older guys? Doesn't two centuries classify as an older guy?"

“You and a vampire?” Riley choked out.

“Surprised? Think how many normal human guys came away with bruises from making out with me. When I told you I dated older guys, I meant it.”

“But you’re not a vampire now. I thought they didn’t let people live.”

“He was very special; he loved me. He had a soul that wouldn’t let him feed.” Buffy thought back to what Angel and she had had. It was so sad and sweet. “He moved away so I could have a ‘normal’ life without him.” She looked pointedly at Riley, “He has a soul. It makes him good, and he fights crime. Would you have caught him, too, with all those innocents depending on him for protection?

She watched her words hit home and saw he had no defense to them. Struggling to stay undistracted, Riley choose a new target, “Why did he have his ‘son’ here. His ‘son’ was Hostile 17, and our research indicates that vampires don’t have strong family ties. Besides, I saw Hostile 17 in the labs, and I think the odds of him having a soul are pretty low.”

Buffy shook her head, “He doesn’t have a soul, but I’m coming to realize maybe he doesn’t need one.” Buffy was surprised that she was saying exactly how she felt. “He tells me that we are enemies, but he’s saved my life more times that I can count. And he personally helped prevent the end of the world three different times.”

“You’re kidding, aren’t you? Creatures without souls are animals!” Riley protested vehemently.

“As one of my recently departed friends said often, ‘Evil done by good hands is still evil, and good done by evil hands is still good.’” Her mind flashed to Eve, and Buffy could now see that Eve would not have been considered human by the Initiative. She looked at Riley very seriously, “I am the Slayer, and it is my job to protect the innocent, human or not, from the forces of darkness, human or not, who would prey on them. I’ll do it until the day I die and another is called. If you cannot accept that, I want you to leave now and don’t come back.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he stared at her, the hurt almost touching her heart. Almost though, what he had said about non-humans threatened nearly all of her friends.

She stood and patted him on the cheek, “You see why we could never have worked? I’m one of those supernatural creatures. Think about it, I’m the first to survive over four years on the job in four hundred years.”

“I thought we could be together, fighting evil,” he pleaded.

“No. Your evil and my evil don’t mix. There is so much that you can’t see. I watched my worst enemy try to beat me to death with a board, and I saw this same enemy rescue a human girl from other monsters. A friend of mine tried to eat me once, but he also took a bullet for me too.” She shrugged, remembering Oz the werewolf and Oz in Careers. “My life is all uncertain. I could die tomorrow, or ten years from now. I can’t be sure. But I am sure of one thing, there is no us.”

“No. I don’t understand,” Riley said, stepping out the door. “We could make it work. You could join us and help us.”

“Never gonna happen. I’m sorry,” She prepared to close the door and paused, “Oh, and if you and your friends come near me or my friends, I will make you regret it.” She closed the door.

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“This way,” Spike motioned urgently, wondering why he was leading the group.

“I don’t get it,” Cordelia said loudly, stepping over a shrub. “I thought you said the stormtroppers weren’t around.” The four of them had been creeping their way to the Watcher’s house. Since departing from the campus, Spike had become very uncomfortable as if he was supposed to be doing something. There was something out there in the dark that was very dangerous. It flickered by the bare edges of his consciousness, one step from comprehension.

Willow and Angel at least had the sense to be silent. The group continued forward at a snail’s pace. Spike halted and turned, walking in a southwesterly orientation. He had no real idea why he was going on that heading. It was like he was being pulled over there.

“Um, Spike?” Willow called out tentatively. “Giles’s house is the other way.” She pointed a thumb in the opposite direction. “This is how you get to the cemetery.”

Her innocent comment grated on his already stretched nerves. “Don’t you think I know?! I’m the leader right now, and I say this is where we need to go.”

They moved on, following Spike’s new trajectory. Upon arriving at the graveyard, Angel questioned, “Any particular reason why we’re here?”

*Demons,* a voice whispered.

“What?” Spike yelled at the voice.

“I said, any particular reason why we’re here?” Angel repeated.

*Demons. Cheating hearts,* the voice said softly.

“Demons, huh?” Spike tried again.

*To find and punish the unfaithful.*

“Who’s been unfaithful?” Spike was saying when his ability to focus was taken away. An outside force forced his body stiff. Without his command, he took three steps forward to the cemetery wall. A glimpse of something big and dark crossed through his vision. It had huge arms with teeth easily the size of his head. As swiftly as he had lost control, he was back in the driver’s seat again.

“Spike, did you notice you went into a little trance there?” Cordelia said, “I know you got all that new stuff in your head, but not even I do that talking to voices thing.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Willow walked to him.

“No,” he hooked one of her arms and jerked them both to the left.

Barely in time because a huge dark shape hurdled the wall to land in their recently vacated space. Looking down at them from its fifteen-foot height, it eyed them calculatingly. Black scales gleamed dully in the moonlight, and it closed its giant clawed fists in anticipation. Its long spiky tail waved warningly at them.

“I think that is a bad guy,” Cordelia managed. “He so needs a manicure.”

“Prob – Probably a demon,” Willow croaked from behind Spike.

Spike raised his fists, “Well, Swamp thing, killing people is not very friendly, even if they were unfaithful.”

“Cordy, how does he know that?” Angel said through the side of his mouth.

“A seer thing, I hope,” Cordelia replied.

“Come on, bloke,” Spike taunted, “Let’s see who has bigger wrinklies.”

The demon stretched out one eight-foot long arm and swiped experimentally at him. Spike growled, shifting into his game face. His canines elongated to their razor sharp length of two inches. The demon roared at him, revealing a mouthful of needle keen foot-long teeth.

It charged him. Pushing Willow off to the side, Spike held his ground until the last possible second. He dodged the monster’s claws, allowing it to crash into the wall. The demon righted itself and turned to swing at him like he was a pesky little fly.

“Peaches, some back-up would make this a little less cozy,” Spike commented to Angel while ducking one of the powerful arms. Dancing in and out of its reach seemed to frustrate the demon, but he knew that if he let up for a second he’d regret it.

Angle threw a stake at the demon, momentarily distracting it from its intended prey. “Hey, how about two targets?” he shouted.

The stake bounced harmlessly off the armored scales. “Lot of bloody help that was,” Spike bit out.

“It worked,” Angel retorted, putting his game face on and joining the fray.

The demon was now decidedly confused. It had two fast and annoying targets at its front. The two vampires dodged and bobbed trying to avoid death by staying ahead of its arms. Their efforts were somewhat successful till it whipped its long tail around, knocking Angel down.

“Bloody Hell,” Spike cursed. He wasn’t on the best of terms with his sire, but Buffy would stake him if he let Poofy get it. A massive arm crashed down, missing Angel by inches. That was the moment Spike chose to act, while its focus was on the fallen. “Red, fire. Get it ready,” he called over his shoulder.

Spike ran directly at the black demon and jumped. Relying on his vampire enhanced power to leap the fifteen feet, he delivered a flying kick to its mammoth jaw. Bones crunched, some his own, some the demon’s teeth. In pain it backhanded him into the cemetery wall. More bones cracked on impact, and Spike rolled painfully onto his stomach. He tried to rise, but his right leg was too broken to support him.

Howling in agony from finally being injured, the demon lumbered toward him, intent on the kill. Spike eyed it wearily, showing his teeth in defiance. Still howling, the monster raised its tail for the fatal blow.

“Yoo hoo!” Cordelia yelled. “Remember the manicure?” The monster turned to see Angel on his feet by Cordelia and Willow. “Well, it’s on me.” Angel hurled a bottle of nail polish at the demon.

Willow pointed and uttered on harsh word in Latin. A stream of fire shot from her index finger to engulf the demon in flame. The polish combusted instantly lighting the demon. It screamed in pain before the fire swiftly consumed it.

“Wow,” Willow gasped. “I just fried a demon.” Her voice became jubilant, “I just fried a demon.” She began to jump up and down.

“I should have known, that was my Urban Sludge,” Cordelia examined her unpainted nails mournfully.

Angel sniffed the air, “I smell people in there. You two take care of Spike.” He vaulted over the wall and into the cemetery.

“Willow, how did you know that fire thing would work?” Cordelia asked.

“Oh, I saw Buffy do it last week to a fungus demon.”

“Then how did Spike know you could make fire,” Cordelia helped Spike up to his feet.

“No idea. I learned that one yesterday,” Willow replied, holding up his other arm. “Well?” she directed at Spike.

“Dunno,” he said shortly as he tried to put weight on his right leg. “Just knew.”

“Alot of that going around,” Angel said, landing back on the ground. “There are two new corpses in there.”

“Shouldn’t have been unfaithful,” Spike rolled his eyes.

“Come again,” Cordelia requested.

“I bet a jealous girlfriend wished something bad on them. Kinda an Anya thing. Wishes and all.” Cordelia stiffened and Spike went on, “Can we go now? My leg hurts a bit.”

“Poor Spike,” Angel laughed. “Do you think you’ll need a wheelchair?”

“No! Not even if you stake me first!”

They headed toward Giles’s the fastest way possible. As they walked, Cordelia raised a question, “The fungus demon. What did Buffy use, seeing that we had nail polish and magic.”

“A burning stake,” Willow answered, “And nail polish remover.”

“That’s so Buffy,” Cordelia commented. “Then again, we perfected it.”

Spike shook his head, “Legions of darkness, bow before the mighty forces of fashion.” Cordelia stared at him before understanding it was a joke. She laughed, and the group continued on its way.

Part 3

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Giles watched Buffy pace over his steaming cup of tea. After her meeting with Riley, she went directly to Giles’s house. She didn’t care that she had thrown a coat over her pajamas, or that she may or may not have been wearing a hole in his floor. It had been two hours, and no one, neither Spike or Angel had arrived. That wasn’t precisely true, Xander and Anya had come during the second hour when she called them. They were currently snuggling on the couch. *Lucky them,* she thought bitterly. *Its two am and do I know where my boyfriend is?*

“Buffy. Have a seat. I’m sure they’re safe. Spike and Angel are probably hiding somewhere.” Giles drank some of his tea.

“Or the Initiative has them, unless they killed each other, which is more likely.”

A crew of four suddenly staggered through the front door. Buffy gasped because Willow and Cordelia were supporting Spike with Angel guarding their backs with a cross-bow in his hands.

Suppressing her urge to throw her arms around Spike, Buffy exclaimed, “What happened?”

Willow half-shrugged her shoulders, “The usual. Party, save Angel and Spike from the Initiative, and fight with a vengeance demon.”

Anya perked up, “Really? What kind? Maybe I know her?”

“Big, black, and ugly. Sound like anyone you know?” Cordelia described as she set Spike down none to carefully in a chair.

He gave her a dirty look, “And you sacrificed your nail polish for us. You’re a giver.” A wave of pain flashed across Cordelia’s face, and Spike winced, “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it was flaky, but it worked.”

“Totally weird, but I accept the apology,” Cordelia erased the hurt from her face.

“Did I hear that right?” Xander asked. “Okay, who is this and where is the real Spike?”

Angel cleared his throat, “He is actually the reason Cordelia and I are here.”

“Did you come to take him with you?” Xander asked hopefully, ignoring Spike’s scowl.

“The truth is, and I’m sure some of you have noticed, there have been some changes in his behavior.” Angel stopped unsure of how to continue.

“Changes? What changes?” Xander said.

“Stop being stupid . . .Stupid,” Anya punched him in the arm. “We talked about him after we left the meeting.” She faced the group, “Yes, Spike did change.”

“May I inquire why?” Giles put in.

“It seems that Spike is the new Voice,” Angel said.

Buffy’s heart sank; sure she’d seen it with her own eyes, but Angel’s words made it real. If Spike could See the future like Eve, would he die too?

“How do you become the Voice?” Willow asked.

Before Angel could speak, Cordelia cut in, “This is my department. Seers are usually given their sight from the PTB’s.”

“The Powers That Be,” Angel clarified.

“The PTB’s like to have you do a penance thing, kinda like Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding here.” Angel rolled his eyes. “When a Voice dies, the last person to touch the seer inherits the sight.”

“Wait, what happens if its a bad guy touches him, or her, last?” Xander questioned.

“That doesn’t happen often, the PTB’s try to make sure the sight doesn’t go to bad guys. Seers tend to be killed, in those cases, by long range stuff like bombs and arrows.”

“How comforting,” Spike commented sarcastically.

“Hey,” Anya sat up from Xander’s arm. “How do you know all about this?”

Cordelia grimaced, “Because I’m Angel’s Voice. I was the last to touch Doyle before he died. Good kiss, but bad aftershocks.”

A coughing sound came from Giles, “So he’ll . . .Spike will be getting visions?”

“The head-splitting more powerful than Tylenol type,” Cordelia confirmed.

“Hang on,” Willow exclaimed. “What about that hearing voices thing?”

“And what about this polite apologizing pod vampire that replaced the one we’ve grown to know and loathe?” Xander said.

Buffy kicked Xander in the shin, “Could you shut up? I know the answer to that.” Buffy felt Spike’s eyes on her, as if he was afraid she would tell the group about them. “It’s Eve. You see, she always always knew how we were feeling. All the time. She didn’t use magic or anything. She just knew.”

“So you are saying that Spike can sense people’s feelings?” Giles ventured.

“Ohh, I met a guy like that. Majorly unfriendly,” Cordelia said.

“So what about the voices?” Willow reminded them.

Buffy’s brow crinkled, “Eve never heard voices. She had trances, spasms, and funny dreams, but no voices.”

“It was really weird. He was talking to thin air like they were telling him stuff,” Willow became even more thoughtful.

“Nope, not an Eve thing.”

“I think I know what it is,” Angel said abruptly. The room became very quiet. “The only person I ever met who could hear voices was . . .Drusilla.”

Willow whispered, “Spike staked her . . .”

For one moment there was complete silence. The only sound was that of the ticking clock. Then pandemonium broke loose with everyone talking at the same time.

“Isn’t there a limit, one gift per person?” (Cordelia)

“Double seer empathic vampire? I need a drink.” (Giles)

“He can See the future and hear my thoughts?” (Angel)

“Wow, who’d have thought?” (Willow)

“That will be so cool, only if he can predict the lottery.” (Xander)

“What’s a lottery?” (Anya)

“Will he end up like Dru?” (Buffy)

The one person who did not have a comment was Spike. He sat listening to the conversation around him with both his ears and mind. At Buffy’s last words, he felt her cold lump of fear and decided to stop the discussion.

“Hey!” Spike called over them. Everyone paused mid-motion. “I am still here. I do still have a name. Can we start thinking about what to do tonight? In case any of you noticed, I did fight a giant black demon and my ribs and right leg are broken.”

“Of course he . . .Spike, is quite right,” Giles agreed, adjusting his glasses. “If he’s been like this for a week, a day can’t hurt. We’re all tired. We could meet possibly tomorrow and try again with clear minds.”

“I’m good with that, I think I will be staying in that newly remodeled guest bedroom,” Spike referred to an upstairs sitting room Giles had recently converted into a bedroom. “Cordelia, can you help me up there?”

His words rang hollowly in Buffy’s stomach. Why did he ask Cordelia to help him? Was there something wrong with her, his quasi-girlfriend? *Stop it,* she told herself. *He can’t ask you for anything or it’ll clue everyone else in* No matter how she wanted to help him, this was something he would have to do on his own.

“Slayer,” he said to her in his most bored voice. “You, help her take me up those stairs.”

Squaring her shoulders, Buffy replied angrily, “Look, Spike-”

“Buffy, cut it.” Cordelia snapped. “It’s late, I’m tired. Are you going to help or not?” She seized one of Spike’s arms and looped it over her shoulder.

“Fine,” Buffy took his other arm and set it on her shoulder, almost wishing she could slap Cordelia.

Spike rose gingerly to his feet. He deliberately leaned heavily on Cordelia as they walked up the stairs, Buffy noticed in annoyance. She said, “Spike, you know I could carry you.”

He patted Cordelia’s hair, “Slayer, it’s just that she’s so cute.”

“I wish I had a stake on me,” Buffy bit back.

“Sure you do, luv. Pick on the broken vampire. Yep, that’s the way to go.”

At this point they were at the top of the stairs. “You may be Mr. ‘I can still kill people if I wanted to,’ but you’re still firing blanks.” They were in the bedroom almost to the bed. Cordelia pushed him onto it, and he lay spread-eagled on it.

He cocked one eyebrow, “Blanks? You know bloody well that’s not what I’m firing. Poofy downstairs, maybe, but you know I’m not. At least that’s not what you said last night.”

Buffy spun to face Cordelia, expecting to see shock. Cordelia was showing no such thing. She rolled her eyes, “Are you two done with your little lover’s quarrel?”

“What?” Buffy stammered. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Give it up Buff. I’ve been told all about you and vampire number two.”

“Who told you?” Buffy said icily, ready to tear out the tongue of whoever spilled.

“Slayer-” Spike tried to get in.

“Hang on,” Buffy cut him off. “Who told you?”

“Spike did,” Cordelia smiled.

“You did what?!” Buffy faced the prone vampire. “We can’t tell my friends, and you tell Cordelia?” She jumped on the bed, prepared to toss him, stake him, anything.

“Wait Slayer,” he held up his hands in submission. One look in her eyes must have told him all he needed to know. When she was almost ready to pummel him, his arms shot out, pulling her close in a mind-numbing kiss.

The feeling of his cool lips on hers forced all rational thoughts out of her head. It felt so good, so right, so perfect. Buffy’s arms tightened around him, molding herself snugly against him. This was something she wanted from him. It was something she was beginning to suspect she might not be able to live without.

Spike jerked back, hissing in pain. Buffy gazed at him in confusion. Apparently he was it on her face, or felt it in her mind. “Ribs,” he managed to groan. “Damn, broken.”

Instantly repentant, Buffy released him, guilt filling her mind. “Sorry forgot.”

"It’s okay Buffy,” her name slipped from his mouth, reassuring her of his feelings.

“Hi, I’m Cordelia. I’m still in this room.” Cordelia reminded them.

“Oh yeah, you,” Spike said in annoyance.

“He told you about us?” Buffy remembered what had started the argument.

“Not at first. I figured it out on my own. I am a seer you know.”

“Yeah, scary isn’t it?” Buffy agreed.

“Watching you too is like watching reruns of Days of Our Unlives,” Cordelia shivered. “It’s creeping me out.”

“And knowing you can psychically see my sex life doesn’t?”

“Besides,” Spike mentioned, “Passions is so much better than Days.”

Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend, Buffy looked at Cordelia, “Angel found out tonight, too. Are you gonna share this with everyone else downstairs?”

Cordelia flounced her hair, “Well, I need to say that hiding this is gonna be hard for me, but harder for you. Lord knows I made out in enough closets. That was Xander though, not a psycho, psychic, undead ex-enemy. You two rate so low on the sneaking counter, even Bill and Monica outrank you.”

“We are too sneaky,” Spike sputtered, his arm around Buffy. She shifted, enjoying his casual but close gesture.

“To the blind, deaf, and fashionless, maybe. Whatever. I’m not going to tell them. I wouldn’t touch this one with a ten-foot pole, even for a shopping spree at Nordstrum’s.”

“Is she for real?” Buffy asked Spike.

“One hundred percent,” he stated.

“Thanks, Cordy. I think,” Buffy said cautiously.

“You two are kind of cute,” Cordelia started, “But only in the deep meaningful doomed sort of way. Otherwise you wear too much pastel, and he’s too much into leather. Where is his old coat anyway?”

“Yeah, where is my coat?” Spike said to Buffy.

“Under my bed in the dorm so Willow can’t find it.”

“Okay, now that we’ve figured out where the ancient fashion items are, shouldn’t we be going back downstairs?” Cordelia checked the time.

Buffy sighed, seeing they had spent too much time away already. She gave Spike a quick kiss on the mouth. “I wish I could stay.”

“I wish you could too, Baby,” he gave her a deeper kiss.

“Fine,” Cordelia huffed. “You talked me into it. Buffy come with me. You’re spending the night here.”

“What?” Buffy asked Cordelia who was trying to hustle her to the door. “What happened to ‘I’m not touching this with a ten-foot pole?’”

“Not even I am going to stay in the way of ill-fated true love.”

“Love?” Buffy and Spike choked out simultaneously and turned toward each other to say in unison, “What?”

“Puh-lease. You are so in love.” She pointed an accusing finger at them. “You think the PTB’s would send me a message about who the Slayer was getting some from if it wasn’t true love.

They stared a her blankly. Buffy could hear her heart pounding loudly in her ears. Love. With Spike. No. She liked him, craved him and wanted to spend all her time in his arms, but that was sex, not love. She wasn’t sure that she war ready to meet the big ‘L’ again. One could only imagine how Spike was feeling, and then it occurred her that with his new powers, he might have been able to more than imagine how she was feeling.

In fact he was studying her right now. Seeing her indecision he rescued her, “Time-out Cordelia. Thanks for the input, but can we get to the part where you two go downstairs and tell them the Slayer is staying here?” Buffy nodded quickly, relieved to stop the direction her thoughts had been going in.

“He’s right. Let’s go,” Buffy bent her head to deliver a another short kiss. It was supposed to be short.

After some waiting, Cordelia sighed and grabbed Buffy’s shoulder. Letting go of Spike reluctantly, Buffy followed her. Before they even reached the bottom of the stairs, Cordelia announced, “Buffy is staying here tonight.”

“What?” Xander shot up.

“I don’t get it,” Anya said.

“That did not make sense,” Giles agreed.

“Could you say that again, Cordelia?” Willow requested.

Only Angel knew enough to be remain silent. “You heard me,” Cordelia didn’t bother to repeat herself. Buffy hid a small grin. Gods or not, there were somethings even the Powers That Be couldn’t change, like Cordelia’s attitude. “Spike needs protection.”

“Hold on just a second. Last I knew Spike was not exactly our best friend. I can handle slaying with the guy, but what’s with this change?” Xander said.

“He did become the Voice, Buffy’s own personal seer,” Willow pointed out.

“So, who cares? He’s still a vampire. He doesn’t need our protection. If anything, now that he can see the future, he needs it less,” Xander stuck to his guns. Buffy clenched her fists in an effort to control her temper. How could Xander even pretend to know what was going on? She had to bite her tongue because if she tried to defend Spike too much, her friends could catch on. She wanted Xander to shut up now.

It was Angel who stopped him. “That’s enough.” To everyone’s surprise, he had laid a restraining hand on Cordelia who had taken several steps toward Xander. She was shaking in fury, but Angel was holding her back. He was saying, “The first days of discovery are most dangerous for a seer.”

“Really? I see Cordelia’s still here. Evil must have taken on look and ran the other way.”

Cordelia actually broke Angel’s hold on her and stepped forward to deck Xander. He fell back, a result of the forceful collision between his face and her right fist. “In case you cared, I almost had my eyes torn out and sold, before they got a chance to kill me.”

“Oh,” Was all he could get out.

Anya glared at him dispassionately, “See what I said. ‘Needs to work on sensitivity.’”

“But Buffy’s gonna stay here tonight to make sure Dead Boy Jr. Upstairs doesn’t buy it on his first day on the job.”

“I believe that was the general idea, Xander,” Giles said dryly. “I don’t have any objections, assuming this arrangement is temporary.”

“It’s temporary,” Angel assured him. “Spike should be well enough to move by tomorrow night.” Angel checked his watch. “Cordelia and I will be going then. Our part here is done.”

“Your leaving already?” Buffy gasped. She and Angel couldn’t be anything, but that didn’t mean she wanted them to leave right away. She needed to talk to them about Tools and Voices in general.

Answering for Angel, Cordelia said, “We’ll be here tomorrow for good-byes. Make sure Spike’s good and all you are up to dealing. It’s a big change.”

“Don’t remind me,” Giles moaned. “It’s enough that you have a soul, Buffy’s a Slayer, Cordelia is a seer, Willow’s a witch, Oz is a werewolf, Anya here is an ex-demon, and Xander is . . .well-”

“Obnoxious,” Cordelia suggested.

“Hey!” Xander gave her a glare.

“Either way, now Spike, who incidentally does not have a soul is a seer and an empath.” Giles massaged his temples. “Couldn’t this have happened to a different Watcher? Why me? Can it get any worse?”

*Yeah, I’m sleeping with Spike.* Buffy patted Giles on the shoulder, “Sure it can. All we need now is for Wesley to show up.”

Angel coughed. The group turned to look at him and Cordelia. “Umm, Wesley’s in LA with us.”

“What?” Buffy was surprised. Wesley had never trusted Angel and he was honestly the last person she expected to join forces with Angel.

“Wesley was between jobs.”

“The Watcher’s Council fired him,” Cordelia added with her usual tact. “He showed up claiming to be a what’s-it demon hunter.”

“A rogue demon hunter,” Angel corrected her.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Willow suddenly stood up. “We so need to be in contact. I’m all for weekly updates. Who’s coming, who’s going.”

“Where Hell is trying to rise?” Buffy commented. “All the normal stuff we see every day.”

“Sounds like a job for me.” Cordelia said. Everyone stared. “What? I’m Angel’s executive assistant.”

“Remove executive assistant and insert secretary,” Xander said for clarification.

She rolled her eyes, “Can we go now, Angel?”

“Sure. We’re staying at the Sunnydale Inn, rooms 114 and 116. We’ll be back tomorrow morning at nine to talk and say good-bye.” He and Cordelia exited the front door.

“Time for us to go too,” Anya said and drug a protesting Xander out the back way.

Willow sighed and gave Buffy’s clothes a once over. “I’m going too. Do you want me to bring you some stuff to wear tomorrow morning?”

“If you could. Hey, Willow, you look really toasty. Where’d you get that?” Willow did look good; she seemed especially witchy looking. “I know you didn’t go back to the room to change.”

“Cordelia lent it to me,” Willow smiled. “The guys seemed to like it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Buffy said appreciatively. An outfit like that could drive any red-blooded male wild.

“I gotta go,” Willow yawned. “You’ll hear all about it later.” She left through the front door too.

Giles promptly sat down, his head in his hands, as soon as the door shut. Buffy felt sorry for him. “Giles, you wanna call it a night?”

“Undoubtedly, but I need to feed Spike and lock up.”

Concealing her eager smile, Buffy offered, “How ‘bout I lock up and feed him. You go on and sleep.”

“Thanks,” Giles said gratefully. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I don’t think Spike will give me any trouble.” Buffy ignored the pang of guilt for not telling Giles about her and Spike. She hated hiding things from her Watcher, or her kinda Watcher, but if she did tell him, he’d probably have a heart attack.

“You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” He paused, “Where are you sleeping?”

*With Spike.* “On the couch, I think, after I feed Spike.” Giles looked like he was going to help her with something. “I’m okay. I know where the blankets are. Now go.” Needing no further instructions, Giles tripped up the stairs to his room.

After securing all the doors and windows, Buffy waited to be sure Giles was asleep. She filled a mug with blood and regarded it thoughtfully. Smiling to herself, she took off her jacket, leaving it on the couch. She practically slipped up the stairs into the guest bedroom. Entering, she deposited the mug on a night stand.

Spike’s eyes stared at her skimpy blue tank top with undisguised hunger. “What are you doing,” he asked, watching her lock the door and shut the curtains.

“What do you think? Giles is asleep.” Buffy stretched her whole body sinuously.

His gaze intensified, “You know what I’m thinking. Unfortunately I’m not in top form tonight. Broken bones do that.”

"Then we'll have to improvise," Buffy grinned. "Can you feel what I feel?"

Part IV

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"Then we'll have to improvise," Buffy grinned. "Can you feel what I feel?"
"I guess so. I haven't exactly had the chance to test it," His voice was very wary.

"Really? No time like the present." Buffy licked her lips and began to rub her breasts. Her fingers circled her nipples through the blue cloth, pretending it was Spike's mouth on her. The nipples pebbled in response, and Buffy asked breathily, "Could you feel that?"

"Hell, yes," Spike's face was pinched tight in a combination of pleasure and pain. "Can we please remember tonight I am broken?"

Buffy picked up the mug and set in on the bed next to him. She cast a glance at his jeans and smiled at the hard bulge. "Funny, you don't look broken." She climbed on him, straddling his erection. It grew harder beneath her, and she instinctively shifted to give him better access. "You don't feel broken, either."

He groaned, "You should be illegal or something. It's been hours since I saw you, and you still didn't put knickers on!"

She ground herself further against his shaft, eliciting another groan from him. "Are you complaining?"

"Not at all."

"Good because you can't guess how wet I am right now." She set one hand on his straining zipper. "Then again," she whispered conspiratorially, "Maybe you can." She pushed the tab down and pulled his member out. "I see you didn't wear any knickers either." Her fingers wandered up and down his hard shaft.

The look of pure desperation on his face convinced her to continue. "Are you going to drink your blood yet?" Buffy carefully slid up higher.

"Blood is not what I have a taste for."

"I wouldn't know about that." Buffy stripped off her tank top to bare her rosy-tipped breasts to his sight. Very slowly, she dipped on finger into the blood and touched one nipple with it. A drop of blood clung to its upturned pink crest. "How about now?"

Spike's perfectly uninjured arms shot out and pulled her to him. His cold mouth clamped on her breast, cleaning the blood off. Carefully, as not to cause any pain, he cut the nipple with his teeth, breaking the skin and began to suckle harder. Buffy bit her hand to keep from screaming out in pleasure as her warm blood entered him. Each flick of his tongue sent a tremor right to her center. She pushed herself further into his mouth, and his arms held her in place.

He stopped, and she mewed in protest, "More."

"Don't worry." He caught her other breast and began to deliver a similar treatment to her other nipple. This time one of his hands snuck into her pants. He slipped one finger inside her and proceeded to copy the motions of his tongue. Buffy writhed mindlessly against the dual assaults. Her inner walls suddenly tensed up and brought her crashing through an orgasm. She bit through the skin on her hand in an effort not to scream and wake Giles.

Spike let her go and licked his wet finger with a grin. "You're right. It does feel good. Tastes delicious too." He grabbed her hand and lapped the blood off it. Eyes half-lidded in pleasure, Buffy kissed him so he could clean the last of the blood off her mouth.

She handed him the mug. "Drink this. You need your fluids." She hopped off the bed and eyed his unzipped jeans. His hard-on had gotten even thicker, if possible.

"What are you doing?" His head strained up to see her.

"Drink your blood," she commanded. He complied, almost choking in his haste. She grinned at his prone form. "I'm thirsty. You got a drink already. I have a taste for something . . .salty." Spike tensed when she lowered her mouth over him. "Don't try anything or I'll have to hurt you." Her warm mouth was a mere inch from him, and she pushed a hand on his broken leg. He hissed in pain. "Got the idea?"

"Crystal," he replied with difficulty, and she took him in her mouth.

*He was certainly cold,* she observed, running her tongue over the ridges. She sucked hard and listened to him moan. Cleaning off the moisture forming on the tip with her tongue, she took him fully into her mouth. Buffy fingered and rubbed his balls through his open fly. He thrashed against her mouth, but it only inspired her to suck harder. Spike simultaneously used one hand to force her head down further, and placed the other wrist in his mouth. He then came violently in her mouth, shooting off like a rocket. Buffy drank it all down, and his fangs broke his own skin.

Buffy raised her head to see him lying slack-jawed and vamped out. Then he flashed her a wicked and somewhat dazed toothy smile, "Wow."

"I guess so. See, not only was it not broken-" She returned his grin, "It was delicious." She gave his semi-flaccid shaft a small lick. It started to hardened on contact.

Spike eyed his member as he pulled his human facade back on. "Buffy, you have two choices. Leave now, or climb on board."

She met his glance. She wanted nothing more than to be with him again, but . . ."I'd better go. You're hurt and I don't think that's something we could do quietly."

"Well, pet, I'm kinda dying to know how it feels like for you, when you've got me inside you, all tight and warm, bouncing up and down . . ." The lilt in his voice won her over.

She shed her cotton pants and climbed astride him. Very deliberately and with infinite care, she impaled herself upon him. His hands grabbed her buttocks to drive her down till he was buried in her to the hilt. Experimentally she bounced a little on him, feeling him surge against her. She loved it, to have him filling her completely. Buffy pulled herself up slowly and came down just as slowly, reveling in the sensations of this torture. Her body screamed at her to speed up, and she could practically hear Spike's body calling for her. She wanted to make it last. One of his hands began to finger her clit, thumb rubbing small circles. That snapped through her control. Pushing her head down, she gave Spike an open-mouthed kiss to cover the shrieks erupting from her at her climax. He thrust up against her when he came, joining her in the scream. When they returned to their senses some minutes later, she felt him whisper into her heaving chest, "That felt good too."

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Morning came. Leaving her place on the couch, Buffy had helped Spike downstairs after stealing a few kisses. Giles woke and came down to witness Anya, Xander, and Willow all arrive. Presently a black car with its top up pulled into the shade of the house, and Angel and Cordelia joined them.

Pleasantries were exchanged, but no one was actually saying much of anything. Cordelia glared at Xander, who returned it, Angel's gaze flickered between Buffy, Spike, and Willow, Willow eyed Angel uneasily, and Giles stared mutely at Spike. Finally Anya, who had watched the whole spectacle, stood up, "This is boring. Are we going to do anything? Xander and I could be having sex now."

Xander had the grace to blush, but he did not protest as she led him toward the door. "Bye, Angel, Cordelia. My problem with Dead Boy Junior can wait until later."

Willow stood also, "Giles, I think I need you to bring that stuff you had to the dorm room."

"What stuff?" Giles asked, clearly confused.

"The stuff we talked about. Come on." Getting the hint, Giles left with her. Angel's eyes followed Willow out.

"Now that everyone else left, I think you and Angel have something to say to each other, outside," Cordelia suggested.

Buffy kissed Spike's forehead. "Sure." Angel and Buffy stepped outside.

Spike shot Cordelia a look of annoyance. "Why did you do that?"

"She needs to smooth things over with him. You didn't have to listen to him rage all yesterday night."

"Who cares? She's my girl now."

"The fact hasn't escaped him," Cordelia observed. "And judging by those finger-shaped bruises on her shoulders, I'd say it didn't escape you either."

"You helped," he pointed out. "I do need to ask you something. Is Seeing all bad?"

"Beyond the ultra-powerful headaches? Not always, just usually. I can't see the winning lotto numbers or anything majorly helpful. But I am good at saying things like, 'Evil is rising on the corner of West Main and Ninth.' Also I'm good at finding demon-eaten corpses."

"So there are good points."

"Yeah, what did Angel say, 'You are now an indispensable member of the slaying team.' It'll get you lots of gratitude, assuming it doesn't get you killed."

"Charming. Any ideas what I should do with this other new gift, the empathy?"

She was startled he wanted her opinion on something other than seeing, "Other than helping the helpless, which you're gonna be forced to do anyway? If I were you, I'd learn how to sneak around with it. It'll keep the whole Scooby gang from finding out what you're up to. Besides, who knows how long you and Buffy will be together."

He glared at her, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, duh, she's the Slayer. I've had fish with longer life spans than what she may have. I mean things look good now, but who knows what will happen months from now. If you don't get your grr back and try to kill her-"

"I've never been able to kill her," he interrupted.

"-then someone else will. It's not like vampire and slayer couples have real staying power. You'll probably just get tired of her and ditch her or eat her."

Outrage warred with indignation across his face, "I am not going to get tired of her. Ever!"

Cordelia clicked her tongue, "Boy, you've got it bad."

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"Look, I know," Buffy said. "'He's dangerous. He's bad. He doesn't have a soul. It will never work.'"

Angel caught her arm. "No, I didn't come to fight." He let her go. "I just wanted to tell you to be careful."

"I understand, but, Angel, you can't look out for me forever."

The intensity of his gaze physically pushed her back. "I wish I could." Angel took her hands in his. "You know I love you."

She slowly pulled her hands back. "And I can't love you back. At least not the way we did that one time."

"I would almost trade my soul for that. If only-"

"Don't say it!" she cried. She couldn't go through that ever again. "Being with Spike doesn't mean I hate you. We have different lives now. You chose LA. I choose Sunnydale, and Spike."

He considered her words for a minute, "Was it worth it?"

"What? Spike or you?"

"Me."

There was no uncertainty in her tone, "Yes."

"Is he worth it?"

Again, no hesitation, "Yes."

"How do you know?" he practically begged.

Buffy looked off into the distance. "If you could have met Eve. If Eve had lived . . . She brought up something in him I had never let myself see. It was the last thing I was searching for, but it found me."

"Do you love him?" Angel voice was harsh.

"I don't know!" she threw up her hands in exasperation. "Is love trusting someone completely? Is it wanting to be with someone every minute of the day? Is it what drives me to sleep with my mortal enemy?" Buffy faced him again, pain plain on her features. "I never planned on any of this; it just happened."

Angel couldn't stand to see the pain and turned away, "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"No, I'm really sorry. I'm sorry for what I put you through with Angelus, I'm sorry I left, and I'm sorry I put you in this position."

"It's not your fault. People change. We have to. You changed since you left, and I knew things with Spike were different after our first kiss, before Eve came into the picture."

He faced her and held her arm tightly. "I want you to be happy. That's all I ever wanted. If he ever hurts you . . ."

"He won't. He's the one who needs to be careful."

"Still, I'm here if you and he don't make it."

"Don't hold your breath. We're thinking long term," Buffy matched his eyes without flinching.

The door opened behind them as Angel let her go. Cordelia said, "Angel, your turn."

"For what?"

"Get into the house and talk to your newly psychicked childe." She left no questioning. Angel obeyed.

"Okay Buffy, I don't feel like dancing around this. Do you plan on being with Spike for a long time?"

"Yes," Buffy said in irritation. "You too? Does everyone think he's that undependable?"

"I wasn't talking about him. I was talking about you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Cordelia faced Buffy with undisguised agony in her eyes. "I loved Doyle. I did, but he was never mine. He was good and kind, even if he was half demon. But he was never ever going to be mine. The PTB's had a different plan." She pointed at Buffy. "Now you have Spike."

"No biggie. I don't own my own life. I'm the Slayer. Spike and I are even."

"It's not the same. We have this thing inside of us. It's gift or a curse, I can't be sure. When I found I had it in me, I kissed every guy in a three block radius trying to get rid of it.

"You must have really wanted to get rid of it." Buffy commented.

"You have no idea. Either way, it's in me, forever. Or until I die. Which could be very soon or not so soon."

"Yeah, I'm the Slayer. I already have the pronouncement 'You will not live past twenty-five' hanging over my head."

"It's different for a seer. Spike will be able to see his own death coming. Or yours."

Buffy closed her eyes, "Something bad is ahead, isn't it?"

"Yep. Something so icky it forced me to show up in Sunnydale again. So powerful it's getting Spike and Angel to call off their fight. So great the PTB's are letting their favorite Tool and Voice get it on."

"I got the idea," Buffy said feeling the atmosphere around them darken.

"I hoped you did. I laid it on pretty thick," Cordelia admitted. "Doesn't mean I was lying. I usually save the gloom and doom for Angel to say."

"That doesn't surprise me."

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Angel looked down at his blonde childe, unsure of what to say.
"Since you don't seem to know what to say, I'll say it for you. 'Spike, I love your girlfriend. You hurt her and I'll kill you.'"

"Something like that," Angel agreed.

"Okay. Now that we got that out of the way, we can return to our regularly scheduled programming, you in LA and me here."

"Why did you stay?"

"What?"

"Why did you stay here in Sunnydale?" Angel asked.

"I was bored. Sunnyhell isn't short on excitement with a Hellmouth and the Slayer. I ended up with more than I ever needed."

"Then why didn't you leave after that? You live to kill, and now you can't," Angel pointed out.

"So I was bad off for a while. My whole unlife was screwed. I only tried to stake myself a few times."

"You tried to stake yourself!" Angel exclaimed in disbelief.

"At least I didn't try to sit outside and wait for the sun to rise." Spike raised a hand dismissively, "I know; the snow came and all that. You lead a charmed life. I'm starting to fancy that maybe I'm just as charmed as you. Every time I tried to do the deed, the Slayer or her friends stopped me."

That was a revelation for Angel. "So what changed?"

"A lot. First I kissed the Slayer. And then Eve comes along, and now I'm back to the whole Slayer bit."

"So Buffy and Eve are why you are alive."

"Basically." He shrugged his shoulders, "Killing demons and fledglings almost makes up for the pig's blood. Shagging the Slayer more than makes up for all of this torment."

His sire gave him a fierce stare. "I'm only going to ask this once, but I need to know. Do you love her?"

"Cordelia bugged me about that too. I don't know. Why can't anyone be happy that she is my reason for living. Or not living," Spike growled in annoyance.

"She is?"

"Hair gel blocking your ears? We just went over that! Are you surprised? Come one, Dru was the center of my universe once. Well, Dru and killing of course. What's wrong with me and the Slayer? She's a far cry from Dru. Most of Buffy's brain works."

"Nice to see you noticed," Angel observed dryly. "So she made all the difference in this new nice you?"

"Bugger it all. I'm no saint like you. I'm still the same Spike. I just don't bite anymore, hard. Does that suddenly make me a nancy-boy like you? The Slayer and I like each other fine. We shag. Neither of us sees this as undying soul stealing love. We'll settle for years of mind-blowing sex if that's okay with you."

"If you think that, you're an idolt."

"Thanks Poofy. I watched you walk that road once. I'm not the ninny you are. It's not gonna happen to me."

"You keep telling yourself that Spike. I know I did."

"Can you go now?"

"I'm going. Remember, hurt her, and I will kill you."

"No, you hurt her or screw this up for me; you'll find your way back to LA in a dustbuster. Sides, don't try to get in my face. I saw the way you and Red were checking each other out."

Angel tensed, "It was nothing."

"Bull. You're trying to lie to the wrong person. It was bad enough when it was demon-girl and Xander with sex on the brain, but now you and Red."

"Could you shut up?"

Seeing he'd struck a nerve, Spike continued without mercy. "Why a little attention is good for her. She's not dealing too well with dog-boy leaving. If you ever come back here, maybe it should be to see Red instead of planning how to steal my girlfriend. Break the vicious cycle already. Hell, I'll even give you advice on how to get some from her." Spike considered his words. "Or not get some. I like this you better anyhow. I miss the bad-ass, but that one would have killed me after I moved in on the Slayer."

"This one still might," Angel said under his breath.

"I heard that. Still, you and Red, I saw it."

Angel didn't bother to deny any of it. "I think it is time to go."

"Don't let me stop you," Spike said. "Take care of Cordelia, too."

"What's that mean?"

"She needs to talk to you about that Doyle character. Be gentle, she's still grieving."

"I thought I'd seen it all. I was wrong. William the Bloody, grief counselor, is new."

"It happens. You take care of her. She's gonna need it," Spike thought about what he said, "And I don't have a bleeding clue where that came from."

Buffy and Cordelia reentered. "Time to go," Angel told Cordelia.

"Bye, 'Dad,'" Spike called from the couch, and Buffy watched them leave in silence. When they were gone, Spike addressed his quiet girlfriend, "So I take it they cornered you too?"

"Yeah, serious much," Buffy sat next to him on the couch. "They aren't sure we have a chance."

"Honestly, Vegas odds wouldn't give us a snowballs chance in Hell." Buffy frowned at him, and he laughed, "Vegas would also give the same odds for you living past sixteen."

She smiled at his comment, and he returned it. They were on the same wavelength, happy to be defying the odds, again. No one did it as well as they did. It was a perfect moment in time, no danger, no pain; simply two people falling deeper into an unexplainable attraction. "Can we hold hands?" She blushed at the intense look on his face.

"Sure, pet. Whatever you want." They twined their fingers together and enjoyed their moment, ignoring the gathering darkness on the horizon.

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"So, do we have a winner?" Cordelia inquired in the car.

Angel nodded, "They're in love. Nothing on heaven, earth, or hell is going to keep them apart."

"I got the same feeling. Those two pretend they don't know, but they're almost ready to say it." Cordelia looked thoughtful, "They do have a lot going against them. She Slayer; he vampire."

"I don't think it will matter. Nothing can compare."

"So I've heard." Cordelia adjusted her hair in the mirror, "I actually hope they can be happy." She seemed very sad in that moment.

He thought for a second, judging her face. "It could happen." He paused.

"What?" she said annoyed.

"Well, seeing Spike become a seer has made me start thinking. I miss Doyle . . ."

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A silent unseen figure watched the black car pull away with anger on its face. Despite the calm, there would always be a storm on the horizon.

Aftershocks

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Cordelia Chase was enjoying herself. She was having one of those normal moments that she’d come to appreciate recently. The source of her enjoyment was painting her nails at her desk.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like working for Angel Investigations. Not at all, having a vampire for a boss had its advantages. Fighting the forces of evil and getting paid (sometimes) wasn’t that bad either. The visions she could live with, despite the head-splitting pain. Personally she felt like God’s mall announcer, saying, “Evil demon rising on West ninth,” instead of “Sears is having a 50 percent off sale.” She could deal with the depressing dreams she’d been having for a week, and she was even semi-okay living without Doyle.

Still, doing normal things just reminded her that she was still Cordelia. Painting her nails into the perfect manicure proved why she had been the Bitch Queen of Sunnydale High. Before the demon and the bomb destroyed the school during Graduation at least. For once Cordelia could actually relate to Buffy now, being the Chosen and all. Buffy had been picked for no good reason to be the Slayer for life, severely limiting her career options, and, since Doyle had saddled Cordelia with his old gift of Seeing the future without her permission, she would be able to see the future until the day she died. Not that she minded Doyle giving it to her; she only wished the Powers That Be could choose one constant time of the day to visit her.

Today’s color was called Urban Sludge, a new bluish purple that matched perfectly with her new sandals. Cordelia had started her first coat when she felt the first and very short warning signs that she was about to get a vision. Her eyebrows twitched on their own violation, and light exploded behind her eyes.

Light and dark, back and forth. The slayer and a child looking into a burning fire. The child opened its mouth to reveal sharp fangs, lunging at Buffy. A shadow staked it, and placed a hand on Buffy’s shoulder, addressing Cordelia directly, “They got me, too, Cordelia, only worse.” The voice, the slayer, the shadow, and the words, “They got me too.”

Her head in her hands, Cordelia waited for her body to relax. The aftermath of these vision/seizures was murder on her shoulders and neck. By the time she was old, say 30, no masseur would want to touch her. In control again she felt her forehead and found the chipped texture of dried nail polish. As she groaned she looked down at her desk and began to scream.

“Angel!” she shrieked. From somewhere in the depths of the office, Angels heard and headed for her.

“Cordelia, what is it?” he asked, eyes alert for danger.

“I had a vision, and it ruined my manicure! I have nail polish on my forehead, and look what it did to my desk.” She indicated her desk, which had its entire surface covered with purple-blue polish.

“What was it?” Angel questioned urgently.

“Urban Sludge. I picked it up at Macy’s a week ago.” Angel sighed in exasperation, and Cordelia continued, “Okay, the vision.” She rolled her eyes, “It wasn’t a ‘big danger, needs help’ vision. It was more of a, I don’t know, something else vision. Buffy was in it.”

“Was she okay?” he gasped quickly, remembering Doyle’s last Buffy vision.

“She was fine, wearing a blue tank top, if it helps. No one was in danger really desperately, like it was already over. Besides, Buffy was just in the vision. She was a supporting character, not the main event. That was someone else,” Cordelia became very thoughtful. “It was someone close to Buffy, someone I knew. I know their voice. They said . . .uummm. . . ‘They got me too, Cordelia, only worse.’ Yep, said that a few times. Oh yeah, there was a little fighting. That someone else I mentioned dusted a little girl vampire, whatever that meant.”

Angel nodded absently, trying to discern what Cordelia’s vision could have possibly meant. There was a loud knock at the door.

“Special delivery for Angel Investigations,” a voice said.

Figuring was part of her secretarial duties, Cordelia grabbed the ever-present stake from her top drawer and went to answer the door. “Hello, how may I help you?” she said in her perkiest voice.

“Are you Cordelia Chase?” the deliveryman eyed her carefully.

“Yes, I’m me.”

“Sign here and take this package.” Cordelia complied, and he handed her a large brown square package. “Thank you ma’am.” He shifted uncomfortably, “This delivery is a few days later than expected because of the mess in Sunnydale.”

“What happened in Sunnydale?” Cordelia said, suddenly feeling rather worried.

“I guess up here in LA you hadn’t heard. There was a three-day power failure. It took out the electricity and even the phones. Some crazies cut the grid in, I heard, twenty different places. The whole town shut down, my company included. Without computers we couldn’t ship anything. I’m sorry for the delay.”

“It’s okay. I was afraid someone had died,” Cordelia said, relief flooding away her worry.

“Ma’am, I’ll be on my way,” he tipped his hat and left.

“Wonder what this is. It says, ‘Cordelia Chase, Angel Investigations. From the Ripper.’ That means Giles, right?”

“That means trouble. He only uses that name when something is up, and he can’t use his real name,” Angel mused, handing her a pair of scissors.

“One way to find out,” Cordelia attacked the tape. Opening the package up, it was full of confetti, and she dug around until she found a small triangle-shaped object. “Willow must have folded this; football notes are so high school study hall.” She unfolded the note and laughed, “It says, ‘Willow did fold this. Read it out loud to Angel.’”

“‘Dear Angel and Cordelia- Greetings, I trust you are both well and wish you future health.’ Blah, blah, blah. Okay, here it gets good. ‘I know you are wondering as to the purpose of this letter. As you are well aware, Buffy has often had prophetic dreams. Recently we have acquired a young girl that appears to have the ability to see the future. While I have not actually seen her yet, Buffy assures me she is currently in good hands, don’t ask, and is about five years old.

Our dilemma is as follows. The seer was rescued from a group of vampires who killed her parents, but showed no apparent interest in draining her. Buffy suspects that they are hunting her and seeking to capture her for some yet unknown purpose. We have been unable to locate any seer lore save that referring to Drusilla in the Diaries. Vampire activity has been at a bare minimum, and we fear they are planning something. Any light you could shed on this matter will be much appreciated, but do not call or write. Come in person for I am of the mind that we are being watched. Till then good-bye.’ Angel, this letter was dated a week ago.”

“Yes, and the power went out in Sunnydale at the same time. Not to mention your episode last week,” Angel added.

“Don’t remind me. Waking up and screaming for two hours straight did not make my night either. Especially with you and Wesley locking all the windows and wandering around with stakes and crosses.”

“You said there was a little girl in your vision. Was she say, five?”

“Could have been. If she was dusted, that would mean she’s dead. . .”Cordelia said very slowly. “And if she’s dead, than whoever touched her-”

“Just got a present,” Angel finished. “I’d be willing to bet that they have no idea. Cordy, do they even know that you’re my seer?” Angel gave her a hard look.

She shrugged, “So it wasn’t something I wanted the world to know. Hi, my name is Cordelia and I see the future? It must be okay cause you kill vampires, you’re a witch, and he’s a werewolf. Besides I like my eyes where they are,” she fluffed her hair remembering Barney the eye-stealing empath demon. “The less people who know the better.”

“But whoever got it now, probably doesn’t have a clue. You’re safe; they’re vulnerable,” Angel observed grimly.

Cordelia picked up the phone and began dialing, but Angel brought his hand down on the receiver, cutting off the call. She was indignant, “Hey, what was that for?”

“No phone calls. The letter said.”

“If their seer already bit the dust, literally, then what’s to worry about? The danger is probably over,” she pointed out.

“We can’t be sure.” His gaze dropped to the tabletop, and then he grabbed Cordelia’s polish smeared fingers.

“What?” she demanded.

“Did you miss this?” He pointed to her paint-covered desk.

“I don’t remember writing that. ‘Another door opens.’ What does it mean?”

Angel was silent for a long second, “When I asked the Powers for Doyle back they said that when one door closes, another opens. You know what that means?”

“Yeah, I know what it means. First, I take off my nail polish, it’s ruined. Second, and almost as important-road trip.” She headed deeper into the office, muttering, “I wonder what I’m gonna wear.”

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“The purpose of this meeting is to address the current problem with patrolling,” Giles said to the group, which had met in his living room that following day, a Friday. Xander sat in a chair by the window, Willow lounged on the couch near Anya, who popped a bubble, having recently discovered the joys of gum. Buffy was propped up in front of the couch, and Spike wandered around the kitchen counter still in his duster.

“Watcher, I do not understand,” Anya snapped her gum.

“Anya, Buffy cannot patrol with Spike every single night. As you saw last week, having our two strongest members in the same place all the time was not the most wise move.”

Willow raised her hand, “Are you saying that because Buffy was always at Spike’s, we ‘normals’ may have missed out on all the stuff those vampires were doing.”

“Precisely Willow. I intend to have a rotating schedule so we won’t be so predictable.” He uncovered his brand new economy size wipe-off board. “Since Oz. . . left, we’ve been a bit on the short side for supernatural senses in the non Slayer or vampires among us.”

“Ooh,” Xander quipped, leaning back in his chair. “We’ve entered a new millennium, and Giles went all high-tech. Initiative look out. We’ve got ourselves the cutting edge of technology!”

“Let’s see if Buffy is hearing the same thing as all of you. According to this chartish thing, I patrol five days a week, and Spike patrols five days a week. Everybody else signs up for the other four spots,” Buffy said.

“Except of course, that you and Spike cannot choose the same nights off,” Giles blew on his glasses. “And this schedule will change weekly.”

“I get it,” Willow exclaimed. “The vamps, and demons, and witches, and everything will never know who they’ll meet up with when.”

“Red,” A voice said from the back. “I know you miss dog-boy, but don’t let it effect your job here,” Spike said this loudly, pouring himself a cup of blood from the refrigerator.

The group stared at him. Buffy winced inside; Spike had been acting a little strange since Eve died. She had supposed he was still grieving in his own way. It didn’t disrupt the smoochies in any way. A rush of warmth ran up her, remembering his mouth and hands all over her. . . She shut the thoughts down because they had no intention of telling anyone in the Scooby ga