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Angel sat on the hard, utilitarian seats of the HC-130 "Troop Mover" aircraft listening to the deafening rumble of its engines, grateful that this type of aircraft had no windows. Therefore, there was no need for him to worry about exposure to sunlight as he poured over the maps, he and Riley had drawn up, while trying to track Drusilla. The attacks made absolutely no sense. There was no rhyme or reason to them. But then, there wasn't always rhyme or reason to anything Drusilla did. He could never understand her. He didn't have the patience for her. That was why she'd made William in the first place. As something to play with when her "Daddy" grew tired of her, and Angel had been glad for it. That meant Drusilla wouldn't slow him down. William was always there to take her off of his hands. But, William knew that Drusilla wasn't his, not really. Angel made sure of that.

Now, he wished Spike were here to help him make something coherent out of all this randomness. Angel didn't want to be wrong again; didn't want to be late. Not when so much was hanging in the balance. He needed something he could count on.

But then, that night he had counted on Spike, and Spike came through, with flying colors, just as Angel knew he would. And, now, the very fact that Spike could be counted on to behave, just as he had, left Angel sitting here, questioning his very definition of the word loyalty.

He looked up from the papers, full of lines that crisscrossed this way and that, said to Riley, " Have the pilot radio that we're requesting permission to land at Cleveland," he took in Riley's questioning gaze, " I think Wood and Faith may be Drusilla's next targets."
************

After Buffy had ushered her friends out, she came back to Spike, "You should have just said you were tired. We all would have understood that."

"Not, he whispered.

Buffy was concerned, "Then, what is it?"

She waited for an answer, but nothing came, either verbally, or otherwise. Then she felt the wave of disgust, fear, anger, and, hunger swamp her like a tidal wave. She felt her mouth water from the hunger, and then, the disgust she felt made her want to vomit. She swallowed hard, "Spike, it's all right if you're hungry," she soothed, biting her lip, "We all kind of expected that you might be. It's all right," she nodded, wishing she could touch his face and reassure him, "Really, it is."

Spike struggled to find words small enough that he could speak them without causing himself pain, but large enough to convey his meaning, and the seriousness of it, "No...Not...You...Smell...Food!"

Buffy understood what he meant, but tried to lighten the mood, "You want to eat me," she sighed, " That's right, you didn't hear the cookie dough speech did you?"

"Not. Fun, "Spike hissed.

"You're right," Buffy agreed, "It's not funny," Buffy did not want to tell him that, she'd prepared, under great noise and protest, for this day, the day that, despite William's valiant efforts not to let it be so, his demon would see her, and her friends, as nothing more than food. Buffy took a deep breath, and heaved a sigh, she knew that once Spike was on his feet again, they were going to have a good old fashioned, knock down, drag out, lover's quarrel, over what she had done, but, at least, she would be alive to have that quarrel, "That's why, it's been taken care of."

"What?" Spike asked.
*********

"No, absolutely not," Buffy shouted, pacing the hotel room floor again, "I won't do that. Spike would see it as a humiliation, a betrayal of what I told him, Angel," she paused to catch her breath, "Only a month ago, I found out he still existed. Angel, do you even comprehend what that feels like? To know that someone you love with all your soul, someone you thought was gone, is still here, and that, despite, literal, hellfire and dragons, he still loves you?"

Angel searched his heart. After Buffy came back from the dead, he should have felt that. He should, at least know what the feeling was like, even if he didn't feel it now, but he didn't. He searched the place where his soul kept Buffy locked away, for safekeeping, and found that the feeling she was describing, the feeling he should have felt for her, for anyone, wasn't there, "No." he said.

She stumbled on the words, not knowing how to make him understand what she finally, finally, understood. A thing that Spike had always known, "It's the greatest feeling, Angel," she knelt by the side of Angel's chair, "It makes you ten feet tall, when, really, you're only five. It makes you strut, when without it, you'd just be limping," Buffy smiled, thinking of Spike's bright, clear, eyes, and said, in a far away voice, "It makes you big, and it makes you bad, and good, all at the same time," she let out a calming breath, "Angel, don't you see, that doing this, would take that all away from me?" She stood up again, "It would rip him, and me, apart. Is that what you want?"

"No. But, I also don't want him tearing your throat out while Riley and I chase after Dru. Trust me, I'm looking out for the both of you when I suggest this. If, by some chance, we find Drusilla, and bring her back here, and Spike gets through this, if he found out he'd hurt you, even killed you, or someone you cared about, while he wasn't in control of himself, do you know what that would do to him, Buffy?"

Buffy could already feel Spike's love withdrawing from her, "What do I have to do, Angel?"

"Spike is a submissive," Angel said, "It wouldn't take much, just enough to let the demon know that you belong to me, and he can't touch you."

Buffy sputtered, "Submissive? Angel, have you met Spike, lately?"

"I didn't mean sexually," Angel sighed, "And, for the love of God, don't tell me. I meant, in terms of the pack-like mentality vampires have. On those terms, and this is not meant as an insult to you, or to him," Angel paused, "Buffy, the pack-like behavior, is one of the reasons he stayed here for a year, and didn't come to you. He didn't come, at least in part, because I told him not to. Buffy, I'm the Alpha male. Spike is the runt."

"Are you saying, that if I let you mark me, then Spike's demon would have to let me live?"

"Yes," Angel said, "Until I gave it permission to kill you," he saw Buffy's eyes widen, "Which I will not give. I won't take enough to make you pass out. But, if you'd feel more comfortable, Illyria is just outside, I can call her in, she is more than capable of taking me down, if I get out of hand."

"Yes, Angel, call her in." Buffy said.
*********

Buffy was crying, not sure how Spike would react to the news that essentially, he had been made a cuckold, by Angel, "Spike, This doesn't mean that I don't love you. If anything, it proves that I love you more than anything else in the entire world. I just didn't want you to have to spend energy worrying about my safety. I just want you to know that I still love you, Spike. Please, don't be angry."

Buffy felt a warmth radiating from inside her, that started at the top of her head and ended at the tips of her toes, it made her feel flush. Had she just been given a psychic hug?

I'm not mad, Buffy. I'm glad of it. Now, I don't have to worry.
********

The mysterious woman that had stowed away on the steel barge, left the ship, as it docked, briefly, off the shores of Lake Erie, near Cleveland, Ohio.

Some people, in the know, called Cleveland a Hellmouth, others called it home.

As she stepped into the night, the woman whispered on the wind, "Don't worry, William, Mummy will make everything right again."





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