Angel followed the trajectory of a number of guilty looks, all falling upon an older woman tethered to a chair. He glared at her with the full force of his familial vengeance. Turning abruptly to Buffy he felt pulled toward the twin pinpricks on her neck, still seeping blood.
“Are you okay?” he asked her, though distracted by the submissive form of his Childe against her shoulder, and his fury reached new heights.
She nodded shakily, her arms wrapped protectively around the body of her lover as her eyes misted over again.
“I don’t know what to do.” Her voice crumbled from intense emotional overload and she gasped a sob as Spike whimpered against her collarbone. She held him with a fierceness of possession and darted looks of hate towards the prisoner.
“He recognised you as his mate at least,” Angel told her, his weak gesture to her neck. “We’ll work it out. There has to be something…”
“Oh, there’s nothing you can do. I doubt he will ever be the vampire you knew.” Maggie Walsh spoke in a confident, arrogant manner that set every male in the Scooby core on edge. The commandos flinched from association, sure that she had flipped.
Despite the stand of solidarity between Xander and Giles in favour of Spike, Angel came out the clear leader within seconds of hearing the Professor speak.
“Do you know much about Vampires? Know of any in particular?” His voice was a cool threat and Willow and Anya stepped closer to Xander and Giles, nervous about the flash of the Angelus side of his personality.
“Oh, I know about William the Bloody. Very intriguing specimen.” Her demeanor remained calm as she observed them, still secure in her safety, but as Angel took just one threatening step toward her, her blood suddenly turned icy.
“Did you read about William’s family?”
“Of course, the line of Aurelius is renowned. Darla, Angelus, Drusilla and William.”
He took another step to her and her small smile became a reluctant frown.
“And which one of those do you think I might be?”
The room gasped as an Irish accent tripped from Angel’s tongue, the hard authoritative tone breaking through something in Spike and causing his growling search for familiarity to begin again.
Professor Walsh suddenly got it, her eyes widening in alarm. She darted a quick, pleading glance to her officers, turning back in despair when she finally understood that they were not going to help her.
“I don’t think I heard your guess.” Angel had taken another step closer and was now positioned within striking distance. One more step and he dropped to his haunches in front of her.
“Angelus?” she all but whispered and flinched at his harsh burst of laughter, then shrieking in terror as his gameface surged to the forefront.
“Aye, you’d be right then. And how do you think Angelus might react to someone trying to hurt his family? Did you research vampire attitudes to family?”
“I…ahh yes, they are, um, fiercely protective of other family members.”
Remaining in demon face, Angel subtly changed back to his normal voice as he continued to observe her.
“You’ll want to hope,” he started out calm, quiet, “that there is a way to bring William back, or you will be dead. Soul or not, no one fucks around with my family.”
He stood with a finality that almost stopped time. One beat later he was directing silent questions at Giles, then gently placing his arms around the still-distraught blond couple, easing them away from the crowd and through to Giles’s study.
As the tension began to dissipate, there was movement about the room. Giles set to offering beverages, and Xander rejoined a thoroughly unnerved and unnaturally quiet Anya taking her stiff, rigid body in his arms to reassure her that the major bad was done for nowand started to discuss the merits of pizza as a good upper.
General consent was voluble and so orders were phoned in and trivial points of discussion were engaged in, the commandos abandoning their weapons at the door and partaking of the courtesies of their host. Almost everyone ignored the Professor, but as Anya walked past she tried out her right foot in a swinging motion and smiled in pleasure as her hard shoe came into contact again with the woman’s shin.
“That’s for Spike, and for thinking you have the right to experiment on demons. There is so much vengeance rolling around in here right now, you’d better be grateful that I lost my pendant.” With a look filled with satisfaction Anya flounced away to wrap her arms once again around Xander’s waist, the confused stare of the Professor following her.
After a good portion of the pizza had disappeared, with a few slices left over for Buffy for later if she was hungry, they all sat around the table to discuss what they might do with their captive and how they should go about destroying Adam.
Riley and his friends needed to return to base: Giles knew it was time for them to make some fast decisions. With Willow’s help, he located a binding spell that would prevent Maggie Walsh from escaping her ropes, and a simple barrier that would protect her while they all slept. Though primarily it held her in, it also kept out any dark-haired vampires that decided that it was time to wreak vengeance.
With the disappearance of Willow, Xander and Anya, and a promise of their speedy return first thing in the morning, he sat down at his table in weary contemplation. It had been such a short time since their world had been turned upside down. They had all received a splendid gift, he knew that. Having Spike on their side could be a turning point for them, and with a groan of relief he hoped that it could also mean an extended existence for Buffy. From a few barbed comments from Buffy, he knew that if Spike had not been awarded his soul early on this time line, then he would have suffered at the hands of the Slayer. From what he had gathered, Spike’s journey had been long and fraught with all manner of misunderstandings and misjudged motives. His efforts to change received little encouragement or support, and Giles knew that the responsibility for that probably lay at his own door. He not only had taught Buffy, but also her friends the rules in regard to demons. He had no doubt that his own teachings could never have paved the way for William the Bloody, he was his own law altogether. Unfortunately, the books had never been written and so he suffered at their prejudiced hands. How many years of happiness had Buffy forfeited because of his own beliefs?
How had Spike borne staying with them, continuing his efforts to be good?
He didn’t blame himself completely knowing that Buffy’s own abuse stemmed from her resurrection, bringing another problem sharply into focus. After the engagement and blindness debacle, he had started to investigate options for Willow, knowing that he could not put off her instruction forever, but wishing he could bow out altogether. He had come as a Watcher to one Slayer an unruly, disobedient Slayer at that but here he was directing all her friends as well. He felt like a nursery teacher sometimes. But responsibility demanded that he take care of the witch. She needed to learn control and limits, so that she didn’t attempt anything like she felt she had to in the future.
They had so much knowledge of the future: enough to make a difference, a change for the better. A shiver slithered down his spine but he refused to contemplate the possibilities of certain events repeating themselves with the same horrid outcome. With an almost negligent glance he encountered the frosty eyes of the Professor and startled slightly; he had forgotten that she was there. Being confronted with her presence brought back into focus the vampire occupation of his home.
Spike!
What the bloody hell were they going to do for him?
He hoped with all his might that Angel knew enough and was devoted enough to bring back his Childe to the twenty-first century. He grinned at Walsh with malice tainting his lips, reminded of the lack of chip, and Ripper almost hoped that Spike regained enough sense to rip the cow’s throat out.
He took out his hidden bottle of scotch and started loading up the first glass of the night. The reality burned down the back of his throat and he felt confident.
They would change the important things. It didn’t make sense that they got this opportunity if the same things just continued to happen.
A few more shots and he felt pleasantly buzzed, creeping down the hall to eavesdrop on the small crowd in his study. All he heard was weeping, growling, and curiously, some clicking. He shuddered, fearing it was hopeless, and made his way back to fall on the sofa in exhaustion. And remained there throughout the night.
A/N...I love chapters where I don't have to fiddle with the italics etc...okay...this is the lead up...next chapter after this might be a little challenging for some...major angst...so if you want it, you have to tell me...