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By the time Angel had muttered a few curses under his breath and berated the folly of women in general and Buffy in specific, she had disappeared into the Roman night. He set off in pursuit, following her elusive scent amidst the unfamiliar smells of the city. Despite his advantage in the vampire-sense-of-smell department, Buffy had the dual advantage of a head start and a knowledge of the narrow and twisting backstreets of the old town, and it took Angel a while to track her down. He caught sight of her in a large and beautiful square alive with the sound of water arising from a stunning fountain. Angel felt a shock of recognition. He’d been here before – a long time ago, but then, it hadn’t changed. Piazza Navona, that was it. He came here with Spike, when they were tracking down The Immortal; 1894… he had a palace or something somewhere near here… probably still did… which meant… oh, hell.

Buffy was walking rapidly across the Piazza, dodging the few sightseers and revellers still awake in the early morning hours. Angel ran to catch her up. “Where are you going?”

“To see The Immortal.” She didn’t slow her stride.

“What the hell do you think he’s going to do?” Angel grabbed her arm, forced her to stop.

Buffy spun around to face him. She paused and looked around as if suddenly aware of her surroundings. She closed her eyes briefly then took a deep breath and gestured to the cascading waters next to them. “You see this fountain?” Angel turned to look at it. “Isn’t it wonderful? He was a friend of the guy who designed this, Bernini, way back in sixteen fifty… something or other.” Buffy frowned then shrugged. “Anyway. He told me that Bernini wanted the commission for the fountain, but the Pope had given it to another artist. So he had a silver model of the design for the fountain made and told Bernini to give it to the Pope’s sister-in-law. And then she persuaded the Pope to choose Bernini instead of the other guy. See?” She turned to Angel with a smile. “Powerful man. Even managed to corrupt a Pope.”

Angel snorted. “No big,” he muttered under his breath, “I could tell you stories...”

Buffy ignored him and turned back to the fountain. “He also told me that first of all it was going to be the four seasons, but he persuaded Bernini that the four rivers thing was so much cooler. And so one of the rivers…” She pointed at one of the semi-clad male statues that represented the rivers. “That one. See? The really, really hot guy? Bernini modelled him on The Immortal in thanks.” She tilted her head and examined the statue critically. “Pretty good likeness.”

Angel grunted.

“All I’m saying is… he’s been around forever. He knows everything. Rome is his city. If anyone can help, he can.”

“And he’s going to find Spike for you? Your lov…” Angel just couldn’t seem to say the words. “…boyfriend,” he managed eventually “…is going seek out your ex…” once again the problem with the words. He waved his hand vaguely. “…whatever he was,” he ended lamely.

“My what seek out my who?” Buffy shook her head at him in disbelief. “I say again… are you twelve?”

“Well, hell, Buffy, these days I just can’t keep up with it!” He sighed heavily and looked away. “Do you love him?”

“We’ve been through this…” She gave a sigh of exasperation.

“Not Spike…” Angel really didn’t think he wanted to know the answer to that one, not given what he’d seen earlier that evening. “The Immortal.”

Buffy folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the fountain wall. “No. He was just…” she frowned at the cascading water. “…convenient.”

Angel snorted. “The Immortal? Convenient? You don’t think maybe picking someone normal might have been an idea?”

“That’s just the point. Me and normal? Turns out we’re non-mixy things. The fact the Immortal wasn’t normal was the whole point.” She gave a small smile. “Besides, have you seen him, with the eyes and the chest and the...” She turned to Angel, her eyes soft. “I really thought I wanted normal. Until I tried it. Guess what? Buffy got it wrong again.” There was the catch of tears in her voice. “I don’t want normal.”

“And now? What do you want now?” The moment the words were out he regretted them.

“I want Spike back," she said simply.

Despite the fact that he’d known it was coming, despite the increasing certainty that had been building in his mind, he felt winded. “Oh,” was all he could say, as the feeling he’d kept locked away since he’d last seen her in Sunnydale suddenly broke to the fore. He’d lost her. She’d left him behind.

“You sure? You wouldn’t like a dog or something? At least you can housetrain a dog…” He kept his tone light, trying to hide that it hurt.

“Angel...”

“OK! OK! But look, we’ve got Ilona on it, and if anyone can find him, she will. Why drag The Immortal into it all?”

Buffy shook her head “I can’t just sit and wait for your friends, Angel. And I can’t just start trusting Wolfram and Hart.”

“Does that include me?”

She looked at him for a long moment. “When it comes to Spike… yes, that includes you,” she said finally.

“I’d never hurt you.”

“No. I know you wouldn’t.” She smiled at him gently, and reached up to touch his cheek. “But you’d try and do what you think is best for me. And there’s no way you’d think that would include Spike.”

“Well, how could it? I mean…Spike?” Angel raised his hands in exasperation.

“You see?” A spark of anger touched her voice. “I’m not fifteen any more, Angel! That Buffy - the sweet little thing who needed your protection - she died years ago. I’m all grown up. And now… you don’t know me, not really, how could you?”

“And Spike does?” Angel’s voice was pure derision. “Oh, like suddenly he’s got the soul thing going on, and he’s Mr. Compassionate? Just because he went out and beat up some lame demon for his doesn’t make it any more special, you know.”

“Will you give it a rest? You know, you’re each as bad as the other! This jealous vampire crap? Kind of overdone.”

“It’s nothing to do with jealousy. Look, Buffy, I’ve known Spike for more years than I care to remember. I’ve seen...”

She stopped him sharply. “You haven’t seen him, not really. You have no idea.” She shook her head. “This is not the time or place. Let’s go see Morty.” She turned away from him and headed across the Piazza.

"Morty? You call him Morty?" Struggling with the feeling that, whatever happened, this wasn’t going to end well, Angel followed her.

******

“Buffy!” It was the first time Buffy had seen anything ruffle The Immortal’s perfect composure. He looked almost surprised. “I wasn’t expecting…”

“Me neither. Can I come in?”

“Yes… yes, of course. Please.” He stood aside to let Buffy pass. Angel stood uncomfortably on the threshold. The Immortal raised an eyebrow. “Ah! Vampire. The invitation extends to you too. Please enter.”

“Maybe you should be more careful before you go issuing open invitations to vampires.” Angel’s voice was a study in politeness.

The Immortal chuckled. “Oh, I have no fear, certainly not of vampires. Believe me. Go through to the salon.” He studied Angel as he followed them into the sumptuously decorated salon. “You look… vaguely familiar to me.”

“We’ve had dealings before.” Angel’s voice was grim.

“We have?” He raised an eyebrow. “Please! Sit.” He seated Angel in an ornate and impossibly uncomfortable chair and folded himself elegantly onto the sofa next to Buffy. “Remind me.”

“Must have been about a century or so ago… can’t recall the exact date…” Angel made a show of nonchalance.

“Hmm…” He frowned in mock concentration. “Now this is strange, because normally I have a very good memory for those I meet, at least, those who make any sort of impression on me…”

“Oh, it was no big thing. Just me and a friend, hanging around…”

Buffy sighed. Well, she guessed when you’d been around as long as these two, it was hardly surprising there was a history. But they weren’t here to reminisce over past times. “Angel…” she began.

“Angel?” The Immortal made a great show of thinking deeply. “Ah, the great Angelus! Of course!” He smiled widely. “How are you, my friend?” The smile hardened. “And how is the delightful Darla?”

Angel glared at him. “I’m not your friend.”

“I am sorry to hear that! Come, we must not let a little misunderstanding so long ago come between us!”

“A what?” Angel’s voice was bristling with menace. “A misunderstanding? Now look…” He paused.

All eyes were suddenly drawn to a young and very pretty dark haired man dressed in a towel who strolled through the room, blowing a kiss to The Immortal as he passed. Buffy watched him, and then raised an eyebrow at The Immortal, who gave a half smile and a shrug. She shook her head. “I need your help,” she said, throwing a bemused-looking Angel a cautionary glare.

“Of course. Anything I can do, my love, you know you only have to ask.” The Immortal opened his arms.

“I want you to find Spike.”

“Spike…” The Immortal gazed at her with a puzzled frown.

“Spike. Vampire. Not so tall. Blond. British. Irritating.” You know exactly who I mean, Buffy thought. “Hot,” she added defiantly.

“Ah, Spike! William the Bloody!” The Immortal looked over at a quietly seething Angel with a smile. “Your frocio, no?”

“My what?” Angel growled.

“Frocio. You and he… your lover.”

There was a moment of silence. Buffy raised an eyebrow at Angel.

“What? No! No way!” Angel was the picture of outrage.

“No?” The Immortal looked at him in surprise. “If you say so.” The disbelief was palpable. He turned back to Buffy. “You want me to find this… vampire for you? Is this the one you think is stalking you?”

“He has a history…” Angel snorted.

Buffy glared at him. “No. This is the one I…” She stopped and pressed her lips together. “Look,” she went on eventually. “He’s a friend. The watchers from Wolfram and Hart…” The Immortal cast Angel a disdainful look. Angel glared back. Buffy fought down the urge to bang their heads together. “Someone has been killing them off. And we think they took Spike.”

“Why?” The Immortal looked perplexed. “Why would they want to take an insignificant vampire?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Angel grunted.

“This vampire… what is he to you?” The Immortal watched Buffy closely.

He…” Buffy hesitated. “He’s a friend. A very good friend. He saved my life; actually he saved all of our lives. I owe him.” Buffy struggled to keep her voice even. “I just want to find him.”

The Immortal studied her in silence. Buffy held his eyes as long as she was able, but eventually she had to look away, afraid the truth was clear for him to read. A slight frown creased his forehead. “Very well,” he said eventually, “I will find your vampire.”

“Thank you.” Buffy stood to go.

“You’re going?” The Immortal raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I hardly think…” She gestured in the direction the young man had taken.

“Mario? Just a friend.” He crossed the room to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Stay,” he murmured in her ear.

“No. I don’t think so.” She disentangled herself from his arms and kissed his cheek. “I need to get home to Dawn. She’s kind of shook up about all of this.” The half-truth felt horribly transparent. “I’ll call you later.” She made her way to the door.

Angel followed. “Yeah. Later.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and turned back to The Immortal with an apologetic smile. “Just let me get him out of here.” She kissed The Immortal’s cheek again. “A presto. And thank you.” She herded Angel out of the house.

The young man came into the hall and stood behind The Immortal. “So, are you going to help her?”

The Immortal shook his head with a smile. “Listening at keyholes again?” He frowned thoughtfully. “Help her?” He shrugged and turned to the other man. “I shall certainly find this Spike. Now, where were we?”





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