The van moved forward in the night.

Willow glanced back in the rearview mirror for the umpteenth time in about
five minutes. Nothing would convince her that she wasn't being followed. She
tried to tell herself it was just paranoia. All those cars were just
traveling down the expressway on their own route. To them, she was nothing.
She was invisible. She hoped it would stay that way.

Now that one internal argument had been settled for the moment, a new one
started. Why had she decided to come?

Well, it was simple. Buffy couldn't. There were too many emotions involved.
She wouldn't want to subject her best friend to the kind of mental torture
that this trip involved. Xander couldn't come because he had to work. Why
the heck did his own parents make him pay rent? That just wasn't right. She
sighed. It was a shame. With her parents, she didn't exist. With his, he
existed as a cramp on their finances. Both of them just couldn't win.

She was sidetracking. Giles couldn't come because he had to deal with the
everyday business that was the Hellmouth. Oz couldn't because h had probably
one of the more important gigs of his life. There would be a record producer
in the audience of his upcoming show. She wouldn't be able to forgive
herself if he missed that.

So that left her.

She looked to the side where the ring of Amarra sat on the passenger seat.
Amazing how something that small held such a power. Such a terrible awful
power. Spike could have killed Buffy then if he hadn't gotten so cocky and
goaded the Slayer into a second wind. Xander could have died, too. As it was
he had a few bruised ribs.

She hoped that he didn't know where the ring was going. She was alone out
here. And until she got to L.A., she was on her own.

She turned on the music, maybe that would soothe her nerves.

"And when it comes it moves so slow
Kind of like it's saying "I told you so"
Looking back before she goes
Tomorrow's gonna hurt
And the world's a stage
And the world's a faze and the end is near
So push rewind just in time
Thank anybody"
 

She liked that song, but it sent a shiver through her.

She really was afraid that tomorrow would hurt. In fact, she was almost
certain of it.

***

Doyle looked up a few times as Cordelia happily typed away at the computer.

"Our first walk in client," she said happily."Everything is going according
to plan!  See girl in distress, see Angel save girl from druggy/stalker
boyfriend, - and see.." She held up the completed piece of paper. "Invoice!"

Doyle set his paper down. As beautiful as Cordelia was, she still had a lot
to learn. As he understood it, she had lived on the Hellmouth, but had still
managed to lead a very sheltered life. She thought in terms of business.
Well, he did, too to some extent, but he also thought of atonement and had
been for some time now. He raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Cordelia asked.

Doyle shrugged. "Nothing. You're doing a lovely job. Looks very official."

“So why are you not rejoicing at out first paying client?”

Doyle gets up and walks over to her desk.

“Because that's not money you're holding in your hand there, darling, that's
mail.  There's a big difference between that and actually getting paid.”

Cordy pouted. “But she has to pay!  - Invoice!  That's the rule of our
whole, like, society!”

Doyle leans on the desk. He couldn't help but to smile. there she goes with
the sheltered routine again. She had been raised with good standards, even
if her parents didn't follow the same when it came to money.  “Defaulting?
That's another popular rule in our society – especially with the
down-and-outs.  Not that I've perpetrated said heinousness myself…”

Now she looked a little angry.  “So what are you saying.  Why bother?”

“All I'm saying is that if were ever going to take that cruise to the
Bahamas together, were going to need a lot more clients of means.”

She rolled her eyes.  “And an alternate reality in which you are Matthew
McConaughey.”

Willow took that moment to walk into the office. Hesitantly, she knocked on
the side. "Um, hello?"

Cordelia looked surprised for a moment. Then she broke into a relieved smile
to see someone who knew what she used to be.  “Willow?  Oh, my god. Willow.
Its so good to see you." She hugged the girl. "Good old Willow!  Willow."
She turned to Doyle pointing with that same smile on her face. "Willow!”

Doyle straightened himself out for the newcomer.  “Let me just take a stab
at it, you'd be Willow?”

Willow smiled shyly “Well, that's what it says on my license, so I hope I'm
Willow.”

Cordy continued to bubble. “This is so cool!  We have some serious catching
up to do.  How is everything?  How's – how's the bronze?”

Willow looked to be a little uncomfortable, from what Doyle could see. “The
same,” Willow said. "It's full of Bronzey goodness."

“And the gang?”

“They're good.”

“Good? – Good! - Good.”

They look at each other for a moment. The two had never been exactly friends
and the awkwardness was beginning to set in.

“Are we done?” Willow asked.

“Completely.”

Doyle coughs. The gave Cordelia a look that screamed 'Introduce me already.'

Cordy sat down while Willow leaned against the wall.  “Oh, this is Doyle.
He works here.”

Willow walked over and shook his hand. "Hi."

Doyle felt blood rise to his cheeks. "Hello yourself."

Willow swayed back and forth on her feet while half looking on the floor.
She was a cute on, all right, was the thought in Doyle's head. She was so
shy, and that hair ... reminded him of home.

"I hear you guys are like...detectives or something," Willow started.

Cordy immediately began to protest. “No, I'm an actress!”

“And quite a captivating one at that.”

“And between my many gigs, I sometimes choose to help Angel.”

“He's the detective.”

Willow straightened herself out and looked up. "Can I talk to him, please?"

***

Angel was flipping through a book when the three walked into the room. Angel
looked up.

"Willow," he said. "Hi."

Willow waved a tiny hello. "Hi Angel."

He smiled in his usual wry fashion. "This is a nice surprise. What brings
you..." He paused. He saw the Band-Aid on her neck. "Are you okay? Who..."

Willow had almost forgotten about the attack. "I'm fine." She turned and
looked at Cordelia. "Um, Cordelia... Harmony is a vampire. Just for future
reference."

Cordelia allowed herself a moment of shock. "Wow. Harmony? God, whoever made
her must be kicking themself now... And she has got to be DYING without a
reflection."

Willow suppressed a laugh. The she turned back to Angel. "Spike was in town,
too. He was with her."

This time, everyone except for Doyle, who had no idea what was going on,
broke out into giggles.

Willow calmed her face. "He was digging up Sunnydale for this." She handed
him the ring. "Spike had it for a while, until Buffy well, kicked his fangs
in. She asked me to bring it here."

She held out the ring. Angel only stared. "The Gem of Amarra."

"Buffy asked me to give it to you."

The others began a conversation. Doyle explained to Cordelia just what this
was, while Angel took it as if it were a dead animal. He clearly didn't want
to have it in his hands.

Willow walked away slightly. there, she had done it. He had the ring.

She could go home now.

***

A ring of smoke curled up in the dark alley.

He had missed too many opportunities on the way here. He had so many chances
to take it, but he blew them.

Well, he was here now, he knew just where it was.

And now, as he looked up to the window at the four figures inside, he could
feel a plan forming. It all came into focus as his eyes lingered on the one
with the red hair.

Spike took another drag and allowed himself a smile.

Two

For the last damn time, they’re names .. are.. are... Betty and Barney!”
Doyle slurred.

Cordelia threw her arms up in the air in pure frustration. It was obvious to
Willow that this argument had occurred before and probably under the same
circumstances/

“Fine! Whatever you say,” Cordelia said. The she quickly looked to Willow
for fear the young hacker would go back to Sunnydale with tales of how Queen
C lived now. “He’s not always like this.”

Doyle looked up, his eyes partially glazed. “Yeah, usually I dance.” He
smiled at the redhead. Gods, she was a sight. He didn’t remember seeing hair
like that before. It was so red, so soft looking. He wondered what it felt
like under his fingers. Just the sight of her... It reminded him of home and
of happier times.

He stood up to prove his spoken point and immediately began to shimmy. For
some odd reason though, his feet weren’t cooperating and he ended up
stumbling face first back onto the table.

“Ow,” he said, holding his head. “I think maybe I’ll sit down for a bit.” He
looked at Willow. “Get you a drink, my precious Pebbles?”

Willow shrank back, a little uncomfortable. She had a very distinct memory
of the last time she was in the immediate presence of someone who had a few
too many. That time she almost ended up with a tequila bottle through the
face.

“No thank you,” she said.

Angel took that moment to walk into the bar. the relieved look on Cordelia’s
face was priceless.

“Angel,” she said. “You know it’s good to see someone instituting the
designated driver’s program.

The vampire looked down at Doyle with an amused smirk. “Hi Doyle. Ready to
go?”

“Not just yet, Fred. I was just showing Red here how I know how to...” He
got up again. This time he tried to tap dance, but ended up on his back. The
room was spinning. Then suddenly it all went black.

Willow looked down. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Angel said. “I think I’ll take our boy back for a little
shut eye... and aspirin.” He picked up Doyle effortless. “A whole lot of
aspirin...”

***

Doyle was half awake in the car. He was busy humming the theme song to the
Flintstones while Angel drove on, ignoring any sound he made.

She sure was a pretty girl. Sure, Cordelia was pretty, but Willow had
something else. That wonderful hair, that shy smile... She moved like a
dream.

“Sure is pretty,” he murmured.

“What’s pretty?” Angel asked, still amused, his half smirk painted on his
face.

“Girl...” he slurred.

“Yes,” Angel agreed. “Girls are pretty.”

The words were just fine inside of his head, but when he tried to speak
them, they came out all garbled. Vaguely, he wondered if it had something to
do with the tequila shots he did earlier.

“No... girl... pretty... hair...”

“Yes,” Angel said, playing along. “Girls have pretty hair.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Doyle said. He was about to say more when it
happened.

The Powers That Be sometimes had very wicked timing.

His skull felt like it was collapsing. His temples pulsed and he gripped his
head. Angel took no notice as he drove, dismissing it as part of the night
of “one too many” for Doyle.

He gasped as it came. His vision went completely white for a moment. then
the pictures came, blurred and moving too fast for his alcohol dulled brain
to grasp at once. He saw red hair... a ring... He heard a snarl....

Then, as soon as the vision came, it was gone.

“Angel,” he said, sobering up. “I saw... I saw...”

But his body wasn’t cooperating. Between too much partying an the ache of
the vision, his world was quickly reduced to black.

***

Willow unlocked the door to her hotel room. She was too tired to drive home.
She knew she shouldn’t even attempt it. Angel and Cordelia had both agreed
it was too dangerous. Falling asleep at the wheel would not be the best way
to end the trip.

Strange, Cordelia talked to her like she didn’t want her to leave. Willow
smiled faintly. She actually felt kind of bad for her. She was away from
everything really familiar. She knew she had no money now, which was a
shame. Perhaps this would help Cordelia to learn what the rest of the world
was really like. She just wished she didn’t have to find that out through
such a harsh lesson.

At least she had Angel, Willow thought. He would protect her and he was a
friend. Willow was lucky. She had Buffy, Xander, Giles, Oz, and oddly
enough, Anya around her whenever she felt scared. She wished she had them
with her now. She still felt a little nervous.

She wished she was back at that pub with Cordelia and Doyle. She was
actually having a very nice time. Some real nice stories were told. True
they were told in Cordelia’s occasionally naive point of view, but they were
interesting. A law firm that catered to vampires! That was a scary thought.

It also sounded like a job for her. When she had the time she would have to
look into it. Too much time had gone by since she had hacked into something
really hard.

As it turns out, the Irishman had a little experience with computers. She
would never have guessed. He didn’t look the part, all rugged and all. He
did have a nice smile and a wonderful soft spoken voice...

“Stop,” she said to herself. “You love Oz.”

There was no wrong in looking, she argued with herself. After al, everyone
did look. Wasn’t Oz giving that singer at the Bronze a few...

She felt her blood boil. Who was she kidding? She hated it when he did that!
The way he looked at the girl... It was the same way he looked at her!

Angrily, she shrugged off her jacket and flopped down on the semi hard bed.
She was tired. It wasn’t good to think about these things when she just
wanted to shut her eyes. She could make a bad decision.

She would sort this out when she got home. Tomorrow morning she would leave
and this would be done.

All of it.

***

A few hours later, Willow woke suddenly in the dark. She couldn’t breathe!

Violently she struggled, trying to open her mouth for air. No, it wasn’t
working! Her own lips wouldn’t move. No, wait, she couldn’t move period!

She squinted in the dark, trying to see. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the
barely present lights to make out a dark shape hovering over her. She
reached out with a free hand to push it away, but another hand came and
closed over it and pulled it down onto her bed.

“Hello, pet. Miss me?”
****
Three
 

All the wanted to do was breathe.

Well, she also wanted to get up and run until her feet hurt. She wanted to
escape, but she couldn’t do it.

Mostly, Willow just wanted to breathe. If she had the ability to breathe,
she might have the power to fight back or at least talk. Instead, all she
could do was to writhe and look.

Look at someone she couldn’t see, but knew instantly who it was.

The dark shape moved in the inky blackness. There was a sudden flash as the
lamp turned down. His hand immediately returned to holding down her wrist.

Spike smiled at her in the low light. “You expected this, didn’t you?” He
waited for a reply, but only saw wide, terror filled eyes. That sent a very
wondrous shiver through is being. He never got tired of doing this... Wait,
she wasn’t responding. Could it have something to do with his hand pressed
hard against that lovely little mouth? He moved his hand slightly to the
side, but kept it close in case a scream followed.

Willow only stared upwards at first. Her entire body was shaking. She was
alone with a vampire. Not just any vampire, but Spike. Now she had been
frightened when Harmony tried to make a meal out of her, but it didn’t
really scare her. It was Harmony for goodness sake! Even as a vampire she
wasn’t all the intimidating. She never tired to kill them, kidnap them, or
bring together a giant blue demon to burn of all of humanity. This was
completely different. This was Spike. The slayer of two Slayers. She had
very specific memories of the things he had done and of the last time she
was alone with him. She knew the things he had done.

The things he would do.

“Spike,” was all she could manage.

He chuckled. “That’s my name, pet.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well at the moment I am holding a pretty little witch down in her bed
thinking up nasty things I would like to do. Been thinking about it the
whole ride here while I was following you.” He grinned. “You knew I was
following you, didn’t you?”

She shuddered. She really needed to listen to her instincts more. The
sensation she had been feeling on the way here wasn’t paranoia. He really
had been on her trail.

In retrospect, it didn make sense. After all, if Buffy didn’t have the ring
destroyed, who would end up with it?  They all should have thought of this.
Too late now.

“What... what do you want?” she stammered. She tried to struggle again, but
it was pretty pointless. For one thing, he was a vampire and therefore much
stronger than she was. The other was that he was kneeling over her, one leg
on each side of her, pinning her down with his body weight. Even if he had
been just a regular, run of the mill human, she still wouldn’t be able to do
much.

Spike smirked. God, that was frightening her, that smile of his. Again, that
felt just ducky. He reached out with the hand that had been previously been
holding down her wrist and brushed a lock of hair out of her face.

“What do I want... That is a very good question. I would like a car with
better gas mileage, for Episode 2 of Star Wars to come out alot sooner, and
oh yeah, my damn ring.” With the last three words, he pushed her down harder
by the throat. Willow choked and gasped loudly.

He loosened his grip for a moment and took in the tears that now stained
that lovely pale face. God, she was cute when she was terrified. He leaned
forward, causing her to shiver even more. Gently, he kissed her on the
forehead.

“Now, love, I’m going to get it back.”

***

“Oh God, my head,” Doyle said, trying to make a stumble into the office look
like a dignified walk. Apparently, it wasn’t working, given Cordelia’s
amused eyebrow raise.

He sat down beside Cordelia and opened up a drawer. Aspirin, aspirin,
aspirin, where was that.... There it is! He pulled it out and tried to
unscrew the cap. Oh damn it, childproof. He tried to flip it off with his
thumb, but it just wasn’t cooperating.

Feeling some pity for Doyle, Cordelia reached over and took the bottle from
his hand and effortlessly opened it.

Gratefully, Doyle took it back. <She just loosed it up for me.> He had to
think that to protect his manliness for what it was worth. “Ah, my head,” he
said, downing two. “What I could really use now is one of those mind
crunching visions ‘cause that would really kill me.”

“Uh, huh,” Cordelia said. “While you’re at it, you might want to try laying
off the ale. The quoting of Angela’s Ashes the other night got old real
fast.”

“Hey,” Doyle said in his own defense. “That is a good book.” It definitely
was. He had to by himself a new copy as his old one had been tattered by
repeated reading.

“Yeah. But I don’t think the main character’s names are Betty and Barney
Rubble. I also don’t think Willow appreciated being called ‘my precious
Pebbles’ all night.”

Doyle blushed, the color flooding his pale cheeks. God, had he been that
much of a moron? He really should lay off trying to impress girls while at
the pub. So far, it just wasn’t working.

“Willow... You think she’s on her way home now?” Doyle asked.

“Probably,” Cordy said with an indifferent shrug. “I don’t see why she would
stay here. Angel and me are the only people she knows here and we aren’t
close friends. Plus, she does have school. Needs to get back. Plus Oz.”

“Oz?”

“Yeah, he’s her boyfriend. The two of them are joined at the hip. Jeez, it’s
almost as disgusting as seeing Angel and Buffy together... when they were
together...”

Cordelia rambled on in her usual incoherent way. All the while, Doyle felt
his heart sink. She had a boyfriend. He rubbed his throbbing temples. That
just figured! The first girl he met who actually touched  something inside
of him was already taken. Oh, yes there were girls around him, but this was
the first time he really worried about the way he acted. He was genuinely
embarrassed about the way he acted around her last night. He felt the
embarrassment to the point of finding her address so he could have apology
flowers sent to her door.

He grinned dopily. Flowers... yes, he would send her flowers. No, he
couldn’t.. she had a boyfriend. That would be just wrong. Wait, no it
wouldn’t. They would just be an apology. No harm there.

He realized Cordelia was giving him a strange look. He grinned sheepishly.
“What?” he asked innocently.

“Where were you?” she asked.

“Just thinking is all.” Later he would have to give a peek to her address
book. Her listing had to be in there somewhere.

“Well,” Cordelia said getting up to get herself another coffee. She made a
face before pouring it. Nothing was more disgusting then their recycled
coffee. Fun. “Any visions lately?”

“No, none as of...”

The memories came back.

“Oh God,” Doyle said.

“What?” Cordelia asked. The look on his face was one that made her share his
fear without even asking what it was.

“We need to find Angel. Now. Last night I had a vision in the car, but I
passed out. I didn’t remember what it was until just now.”

Cordelia looked at him, concern now filling her eyes. “What was it?”

“Willow. I saw her... It was brief, quick. I don’t remember it very well.”
Damn it, he would be able to if he hadn’t been so drunk. This was enough to
make him swear it off forever. If his inability to recall it in detail would
get her killed... Oh God, he didn’t know what he would do.

His dark haired friend walked over to the table where he sat so fast, coffee
spilled out onto her hand, but she ignored the burn.

“What about her?”

“I think... I think she’s going to die if we don’t find her.”

Four

Time had lost all meaning.

The last thing Willow was completely aware of was Spike’s hand covering her
mouth, his body weight holding her down in her bed. Everything after that
she wasn’t too sure of. She remembered trying to struggle out of his grasp
and was answered with a sound slap across the face. Her head throbbed. She
remembered tasting her own blood in her mouth.

Things grew steadily fuzzier after that.

She remembered Spike still holding her down. For a moment he appeared to be
frozen. She wondered if he had been stunned by his actions, but her then
still sleepy blanketed brain hadn't know that. So she had tried to fight
again. It resulted in another hit across the face.

Then came something surprising.

His lips were on hers, forcing her mouth open. All she could do was try to
shut it out as he tasted the blood that had pooled within. He rose up back
to her gaze with his game face on.

She couldn't remember anything after that. Changes of scenery, dim lights, a
car... It all blurred together in a dulled tapestry of consciousness.

Moaning softly, she raised her head. She was sitting upright. She tried to
get up, but found she was held back. Her focus came back very quickly. She
was tied to a chair. She moved slightly... Well slightly was all she could
really accomplish. It was kind of hard to do anything higher to that when
one was bound in rope.

Her neck hurt when she strained it.

<Oh my God.> Willow thought. <Did he bite me? Did he?>

He did have his vamp face on the last time she remembered looking at him.
She shivered. God, that meant she had been snacked on by two vampires in
less than a week. Not even half a week. This was not the best of times.

A hand took her chin and raised her head. She found herself looking into the
eyes of a very well dressed, bald, soft looking man. Her instinct told her
though, that he was anything but.

"She's awake," the man said, still looking down at her.

She heard a few foot steps then a pause. "Good. For a moment I was afraid I
had accidentally killed her."

The hope must have been visible on her face because she heard Spike snort.
"Don't get like that, pet. I am going to kill you... Just not right now.
Still need you."

The other man was still holding her face, looking into her eyes. Then they
drifted down to the open wound on her neck. He began to move down.

He was suddenly torn away.

"Now, now, Marcus. I specifically said she's not for you," Spike said, a
small laugh in his voice. Willow shuddered.

She looked over to Spike. He straightened out his duster and sent a scathing
glance at Marcus. Obviously, they were not friends, but they were working
together at the moment. The question was now what they were going to do.

Spike strode over to her and knelt besides her chair to meet her at eye
level.

"Now I'm going to go out for a bit, but I am coming back. Got to go meet
some old friends."

He reached out, causing Willow to immediately pull away. She brushed a lock
of hair out her face and smiled.

Then he kissed her, softly.

He stood up and glanced and Marcus. "I smell her on you when I get back and
the deal is off.

***

Tai-chi had lost its mirth.

Normally, it gave Angel some measure of comfort, something to focus on when
he was troubled, but not lately. He missed doing this with Buffy. When he
had returned from Hell, her at his side in this exercise had brought him
back to the present more than anything else.

Now he was here.

She was there.

Miles in between.

He was about to go further into his own self wallowing when the phone rang.
He picked it up on the second ring.

"Hello? Hello?"

"Angel?"

He paused. "Rachel?"

"They let Lenny out. Something about a technicality." She sounded
frightened. Morbidly, Angel felt a little bit better. At least now he had
something else to focus on. Something that wasn't Buffy or the ring.

"I'll be right there."

He dressed and made his way to the parking garage. His hand had just barely
touched the door handle when he was struck by something and thrown to the
side. When he looked up, he saw Spike standing there, holding a beam. He
figured his childe would show up sooner or later. He had been hoping for
later.

“Angel.  I believe you have something I’m looking for – a shiny, little
bauble?”  Spike shifted back and forth on his feet, ready for the fight.

Angel picked himself up, dusting himself off in the process. “Might as well
go home, Spike.  The gem of Amarra stays with me," he said simply. He so did
not have time for this.

Spike swung at Angel with the beam.  Angel catches it, hits Spike across the
chin, in the stomach, then kicks him to the floor.

Spike got back up, board in hand, and a smirk on his face.  “Why?  Because
you are Angel, vamp detective?  What’s next?  Vampire cowboy?  Vampire
fireman?" He leered. "Oh, vampire ballerina.”  He charged.

“I do like to work with my legs.”  Angel jumped up and grabbed an overhead
pipe and kicked both feet into Spike’s chest.

Spike picked himself back up and kept stabbing at Angel with the beam. the
two contenders danced, each looking for a weakness that the other was not
willing to give.

Spike pinned him onto the hood of the car but Angel kicked him off, taking
the beam a way from him.

“We duke it out, huh?  Is this your big strategy to get the ring back?”

“I had a plan!”

Angel fended him off with the beam, then reversed the role and pinned him
onto the car. Figures. He just had the thing washed. “You?  A plan?”

“A good plan.  Smart.  Carefully laid out. – But I got bored." He climbed
out from under Angel and threw him up against the wall.  "All that watching,
waiting... my legs started to cramp."

Angel pushed him off, but Spike managed another hit in, flinging Angel into
the garage door.  "Enough with the hit’n’quip.  Just tell me were the damn
ring is.”

Angel turns around, game face on. “It wouldn’t go with your outfit.”

Angel picked him up and threw him over the car and onto the ground.

Cordelia and Doyle ran in behind Angel.

"Cordelia," Spike said, picking himself up. "You look smashing. Did you
loose weight?"

Taken aback by the compliment, Cordelia spoke. "Yes. There's this great gym
on.." Then she caught herself. "Hey!"

"I'll get that ring," Spike said to Angel in a near growl. "This isn't over
until one of us is a pile of dust, mate." With that, he stalked off.

"Are you alright, man?" Doyle asked. "How's the ring?"

"It's fine," Angel said, returning his face to human. "I can't say the same
for you guys though. you should lay low until this blows over. Doyle, take
her to your place."

Cordelia raised a brow. "Why can't I just go home?"

"Cause he knows you. Spike is out for blood."

"But he's not invited."

"That doesn't mean he won't burn the mouse down to get you."

Cordelia paled. "Kidding.  Doyle's it is."

Angel turned to Doyle. "What brings you guys down her anyhow?"

"I had a vision."

"Related?"

Doyle looked nervous. Yes, he had a number of disturbing visions over time,
but this was had gotten him visibly spooked.

"Last night before I passed out in the car, I saw Willow. I can't remember
all of it, but I get the sensation she is in deep trouble, friend."

"Spike," Angel said dangerously.

"Possibly. I wouldn't rule it out. He probably knew she was the one who
brought it here."

Angel turned to Cordelia. "Call Buffy, Oz.. See if she's back yet."

"Right," Cordelia said.

"What about you?" Doyle asked. "He's going to come back for you, you do know
that? What are you going to do?"

"Find him first.

Doyle nodded. He hoped he would.

He also hoped he wouldn't find Willow, that she was home and safe.

Unfortunately, Doyle had never been able to feel comfortable with optimism.
*****
Five

Waiting had never been a favorite thing of his.

Neither were phone calls. Oh, especially phone calls. Doyle had a pretty
strong feeling that until he got the answer he wanted from someone...if he
got one at all...things were about to get personally ugly for him. It made
him nervous.

It also didn't help that Cordelia was methodically pacing back and forth in
his apartment, stepping over the rubbish and making faces.

At last, Frankie picked up. The other man started to dabble with
conversation... Frankie rattling on about women at first, but he was not in
the mood to hear of conquest this time. He had a mission.

“Not Spice, that's the bird down on Broadway.  Spike, like in
railroads...Uhuh...yeah, vampire, right...  No?  Okay, then.  Thanks.”
Hangs up.

Doyle marked his open book:  “Frankie Tripod?  A big no.”

Cordelia turned around from her pacing. “Frankie Tripod?  Oh, I get it.
Some kind of three-legged monster, right?”

“No, he's human.”

"Then why is his name… Oh…”  She made a face. Again, the protected life was
showing. A day alone in his world, despite the Hellmouth training, she
wouldn't last a day.

“Hey listen, why donut you sit down.  Get comfortable.  Angel said I should
go through every name in my book until I get a bead on where Spike is hiding
out.  Could be a while.”

“Please.  I couldn't get comfortable in here if the floor was lined with
mink.  I mean, how can you live like this?”

<Picking on me quarters are we now?> “Well, I didn't until last week.  Then
I saw what you did with your place and I just had to call my decorator.”

“No way.  My apartment is nowhere near this yucky." She sat down on a chair
and made another face. Apparently her rear end had just met with the left
over of last weeks dinner. Luckily, it was just wrappers. Doyle picked up
some laundry, making room for her to take a seat. "It smells like bong water
in here.”

He was about to say 'And how would you know,' but he truthfully didn't want
to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was. “Okay a couple of
laundry might be a couple of days over due, but...”

Then the telephone rang, saving him from yet another awkward moment.

“Yeah? Hey, Kizzy.  Yeah, vamp named Spike.  No?  Okay. What, a “C” note?  I
absolutely paid that back, man!  Hey, no, sorry, there goes my other line.”
He quickly hung up.  "He was mistaken, but I didn't have time to get into
it, right? I'm on a mission here!" He paused. "Did you manage to reach
Willow?"

Cordelia sighed, a look of worry crossing her face.

"Afraid not. Buffy said she hadn't come back yet," Cordelia said.

"Maybe she's still in town?" Doyle asked.

"No. I called the hotel she was at. They said she was checked out."

Doyle frowned. He had an increasingly bad feeling about this."It's not that
big a drive between here and Sunnydale. She should have been back by now.
How long ago did you call?"

"An hour ago. And the thing is, checkout was early...eight o'clock. She
really should have been home. Willow is a good girl... She would have told
someone she was back." Cordelia was beginning to look more distressed as
consequences were starting to be imagined in her brain."

"When Angel calls, he have to let him know."

"Agreed."

This was not of the good. This all had to be related. Spike showing up,
Willow being no where to be found. He'd like to think there was no links,
but there had to be. It all fit. Unfortunately, nothing could be done until
more information came his way.

"So what about this Spike?  Is he as bad as all that?  I mean should I be
sweating?”

“He's really not… sweat.”

“That's what I figured.”

***

The waiting was awful.

Willow shifted in the ropes. This was extremely uncomfortable, what with her
circulation being close to getting cut off. She got the feeling that was
part of the point. She highly doubted that being a hostage meant comfort.

It didn't help with comfort that...what was his name...Marcus was near
pacing. But the look on his face... He was being so cool. There was no
expression on his face. He glanced at her from time to time, but not in a
person way. He looked upon her as an object. To him, she might as well been
part of the chair.

He stood in front of her for a few, indeterminably long moments with his
head cocked to the side. In his eyes, she saw hunger. She was afraid.

Lucky for her, Marcus knew how to control himself, well, at least when he
was working. In his free time he just couldn't stop with the nasty things. A
few parents in downtown St. Petersburg found that out a little too well a
few months ago. He could still taste and smell their son...

Finally, he turned away. Willow sighed loudly.

He knelt down beside a record player and turned on music. Classical it
sounded to be.

"Mozart. Symphony 41," Marcus said without looking away.

"It's. It's... nice," Willow managed.

"You're a fan?"

"My... My boyfriend is a musician. Listens to all kinds of things." Small
talk with the bad guys... Oh this was always fun. At least it helped break
the tension, helped to calm her racing heartbeat.

Marcus said nothing, returning to his icy cool.

She felt nervous again. Sound was something that could be understood much
easier. When there was sound, it drowned out the noise that filled her head.
Noise that screamed of when Spike would be back and what would he do? He had
already taken a taste of her. What would he do when he came back?

Willow didn't want to know.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the music. It did help distract her
a wee bit.”

***

Angel, for the first time in 244 years, was impatient. This waiting was
killing him. He wanted to find Spike... Have this whole mess sorted out.

At least talking to Rachel helped to distracted him for a bit. He really
hoped she did heed his advice. She was a sweet girl and did not deserve the
things that happened to her.

No one did. No one deserved any of the things that happened to them. That
was part of the thing that made both life and his unlife kind of scary. No
matter how sweet you were, how kind, or how good your intentions were,
things could change in an instant. There were awful monsters out there. He
had been one of them, and nothing filled the dark things with more glee that
the perversion and destruction of innocence.

Spike had always gotten a kick out of that. Angel wanted to find him and
introduce him to a few well placed hits and a point object.

He called up Doyle. By now he had to have some kind of lead.

He hoped.

Doyle picked up, at least he though it was Doyle who said, “House of Pies.”

“Doyle?  Is that you?”  He looked down and checked on his wrist stakes. This
was pure genius, he didn't midn thinking. Too bad Spike wouldn't have time
enough to admire them when Angel came calling."

“Oh, sorry man.  Just laying low.  All those calls to past acquaintances
stirred up a few, uh, old resentments.”

“I hope it was worth it.”

“Yeah, well, listen Manny the Pig said he didn’t know anything about a
vampire called Spike.”

“So?”

“So he said that before I mentioned anything about Spike.  You’ll find him
at a joint down on third called the Orbit Room.”

“Okay.  I’ll start with Manny the Pig then.”

“Work your way down. Oh, another thing, and this is important.”

"What?"

"No word from Willow. Cordelia said that she isn't back in Sunnydale and she
checked out of her hotel room early."

"That's funny. She would have said something to someone."

"That's what Cordelia said."

"Thanks." He hung up.

This wasn't good. He had a damned good feeling why there was no word on
Willow. This sure complicated things further.

He got up. Work to be done.

***

Spike hated waiting.

He abhorred it in every form. He liked having things done instantly.
Patience was never a virtue of his, if he even possessed such a thing.

He wanted Angel to show up already. He wanted to see his great poof of a
sire tortured and killed and for the ring to be back on his finger where it
belonged. He wanted it back so he could go back to Sunnydale and expose the
Slayer's inner organs to sunlight.

He smiled at that thought. He still remembered the looked of surprise on her
face to see him standing before her in the bright mid day sun. The bruises
and blood on her face...oh it had been priceless. He wanted to live that
moment a few times over. Well, he would get it at least one more time.

He also wanted to go back to the warehouse where the witch was tied to a
chair. Now that was fun too. She had a nice tang to her. He would be sad
when it was over. He did love the taste of her, the smell of her hair.

He recalled when he had forced her into his old home with the intent of
having her do a spell for him. Her terror had filled his nostrils with such
a sweet aroma, even to his then alcohol dulled brain. Why he hadn't shagged
and drained her then... Wait, he knew. He was still hell bent on getting
Drusilla back. What a waste of time that had been.

Well, he had a chance again. Who knew, it might even help him get the ring
back.

But first, dinner.

The girl struggled against him. Spike wanted to laugh, but that would just
mean wasting blood. He was too hungry for that right now.

He heard footsteps. At last.

"Let her go."

Spike looked up. "Anyone ever tell you you're a hell of a buzz kill, mate?"
He tossed the blond at Angel with a smirk. He took off.

<Catch me, catch me if you can...>

He stopped at a dead end, pressing his hands against a chain link fence. It
sure looked like a dead end, didn't it?

"Caught me fair and square, white hat. " He lifted up his arms in a mockery
of surrender. "Guess al that's left for me to do is come along quietly and
repay my debt to society."

Angel was less than amused. God, he loved to see the poof pissed.

“You think you can come to *my* town and pull *this* crap?  You never learn,
Spike.”

Spike smiled and began to put his hands behind his head in a relaxed pose.
“I maybe a slow learner…”

Marcus appeared behind Angel and lassoed him with the chains, pulling the
vampire to the ground.

Spike looked on, grinning wider. “But eventually I learn.”

Angel blacked out. Marcus dragged him along on the ground, back to the
warehouse. Spike followed along behind, walking with a slight swagger to his
step. It was all working out so nicely.

<Coming home, Red.>
Title of Story: Shadows Slowing Fading
Author: Bridget
E-mail: [email protected]
Content. Some overtones of S/W and D/W to come.
Spoilers: Harsh Light of Day, VERY, VERY Heavy for In the Dark
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Buffy universe, nor do I own the lyrics to
"Then the
Morning Comes”
Distribution: Ask and you shall receive
Story Summary: What would have happened if Willow had gone to L.A. instead
of Oz?
Feedback: Please. Flames will be answered by my evil legions of terror

Six

Now it was Doyle’s turn to pace. He was starting to get nervous. The night
had come and gone, it now being well into the morning hours. Angel still yet
to make an appearance and that was making him very nervous.

Cordelia shared his nervousness. She tapped her fingers on the table where
the unringing phone sat.

“Angel should have called by now,” Cordelia sighed. “This is bad!”

Doyle decided to try his hand at optimism.  “Maybe not. Maybe he did away
with Spike in short order, and decided to give a go at surfing?”

“Right. What am I worried about? Angel has the ring, right?” Cordelia
smiled. She tried to sound more hopeful than she felt. The truth was, she
didn’t believe it. Something was very, very wrong.

Doyle shook his hand in the air, trying to make the same point to himself.
“Right! I bet he is out hanging 10 right about now, out on the sandy shore
at. Wind in his hair...Bikini babes a whistlin...”

“Yeah, and Willow... She probably went to find Oz, or she’s at...the
library! You know Wills... Wait, you don't know Wills... She’s the smart
one. Probably went to help look up the next nasty... Or maybe she went for
coffee when she got back... Or she’s sleeping!”

Doyle let his arms drop. “You believe that.”

“Nope. Not one bit.”

They both resumed staring at the phone.

***

Angel groaned slightly as he began to regain consciousness. This wasn't
right, he was not in bed. His feet were on the floor and his arms were...

...In chains. This was not of the good.

The last night events began to come back to him. Spike...

He opened his eyes to see that man in the white shirt putting on a record
and opening a trunk. Inside was something very familiar to him from his bad
guys days. Torture tools.

This was not going to be fun.

He turned his head to the side and blinked twice.

Willow.

She was tied to a chair. So this was where she had been. Damn it, he had
hoped he had been wrong. She got sucked into all of this in the worst way.
Well, at least she looked to be unharmed. No, upon closer inspection, he
could see her collar was slightly stained with blood. One of them, Spike he
guessed, had taken a nip of her.

This complicated things. On his own, he could handle the torture, but with
Willow as an added token... He didn’t think he would be able to take it if
they decided to start hurting her, even if she asked him to ignore it. Spike
probably planned it that way.

Speaking of his childe, he was casually strolling up his way.

“Marcus is an expert. Some say artist, but I've never been comfortable with
labels.  He's a bloody king of torture, he is. Humans, demons, politicians,
makes no difference.” He walked in a circle around Angel.  “Some say he
invented several of the classics, but he won't tell me which ones. Beneath
the cool exterior, you'll find he is rather shy. Except with kids.”

Spike paused and spoke over in Marcus’ direction. “You like kids, don't you
Marcus?”

The torturer paid him no attention, focusing on the work he was about to
begin. He glanced over at Willow once, and then away.

Spike continued. “Well, likes to eat.” He leaned in closer to whisper into
his sire's ear.  “And other nasty things.”

Angel thrashed in his chains, obviously agitated. Spike walked away with a
smile. He loved to get a rise out of the great poof. His short travel took
him besides Willow.

Casually, he rested a hand on her shoulder. Beneath his touch, Angel would
see Willow cringe, but that only encouraged him. He gently massaged her
shoulder, with a small smirk on his face.

Marcus put on wire-rim glasses and walked over to Angel. He tore open his
shirt and looked at his chest, analyzing the features.

“His skin…”

“Annoying isn't it? Still attached,” Spike said, looking down to Willow.

Willow turned her head to look away, she didn’t want to see what was going
to happen. It was bad enough she was going to have to hear it. Oh why didn’t
she just go straight home? To hell with being tired.

20/20 hindsight was such a clear thing.

“Over 200 years of living and so little external damage. What about
internal?”

“Do you two need to be alone, or can we go on to the ouchy part?” Spike
said, becoming very clearly annoyed. He looked down at Willow and reached
out to her face. She pulled away, but she did not have very far to go. He
caressed her face lightly. “He can be a bit of a show off, don't you think,
luv?

“He's known love,” Marcus continued.

“Yeah, and with a Slayer no less. How is that for perversion?”

“And he has a soul.”

Spike rolled his eyes, bored and quite irritated. Two things one did not
want this particular vampire to become. “Right, vampire with a soul.
Cursy-cursed to walk the earth trying to do good. That's not going to be a
problem, is it?”

“On the contrary. Creatures with souls have something to lose.”

“Souls, fingers, toes… Let's get chopping, will you? I want my damn ring!”

Marcus looked right into Angel's eyes. “What do you want, Angel?”

“Are you going to torture me, or just bore me to death?” Angel retorted. He
wanted to keep his attentions away from Willow. It could get even uglier if
she ended up involved.

Marcus picked up a poker that has been heating in the fire and stabbed it
clear through Angel's lower right chest. Angel suppresses a scream.  Willow
visibly cringed. Spike held onto her hand and squeezed it in mock sympathy.

Marcus grinned. “Probably a little of both.”

“Someone's having shish kabob,” Spike joked, still holding onto Willow's
hand. Lightly, he grazed his fingers over the top of her hand. “Hmm, food,
there's a nice thought. You know, I am still terribly hungry.”

His true face rose, Willow cried out.

And all Angel could do was watch.
***
Some time had passed. Enough time that Angel had a number of hot poker
sticking out through his skin. It was probably a good thing that he wasn't
human. The things he was going through would have killed anyone who wasn't
already dead.

He looked over at Willow. She didn’t look so good either. Spike had clearly
taken a lot from her. She would look up occasionally with tear rimmed eyes,
then lower it again. It was to hard, she was so dizzy.

“What do you want Angel?” Marcus asked, distracting him from his study of
his old friend.

Angel gasped, “A house in the country, a pair of good running shoes that you
can also wear out to dinner.”

Spike started to pace, again, another thing you did want him to start doing.
“Why do you keep asking him that? And why do you keep playing that bleeding
Brahms?”

“Actually it’s Mozart. Symphony 41. I find it very effective.”
He cocked his head to the side, getting quite sarcastic. “Yeah? Personally I
prefer his older funnier symphonies myself. LOOK I WANT MY RING BACK!”

He kicked a box hard, causing a wood piece to fall off. Angrily, he picked
up the makeshift stake and held it up to Angel's chest. “If I don't get it
pretty soon, I’m going to stake me old Sire right here and now!”

“Are you finished? He knows you won't kill him until you get the ring. He
knows you’re lying.”

“You get it for me.”

Marcus smiled, smugly. “Soon he’ll want to tell me everything he knows and
then some. And he knows I’m not lying.”

Spike looked at Angel with a smile. “I believe he does.”

It was hard, but Angel managed to speak.“You’re an idiot, Spike.”

“You think? Because I’m not the one chained to the ceiling with hot pokers
in my side.”

“You hired a vampire. What do you think he is going to do with the rings
when he finds it, huh? Hand it over to you?”

Spike put his hand up to his face in false shock. “Oh, good Lord, why didn’t
I think of…Oh, wait half a mo’, I did. I hired a guy who doesn’t care about
the ring, or anything else on God’s green earth except taking blokes apart
one piece at a time. It’s called addiction, Angel. We all have it. -I
believe yours is named Slutty the vampire Slayer.

The music stopped. “Thank you! Speaking of little Buff, I ran into her
recently. Your name didn’t come up. Although she has been awful busy jumping
the bones of the first lunk-head that came along. Good-looking fellow...used
her shamelessly.” He smiled. “She is cute when she is hurting, isn't she?”

“I think she’s cuter when she’s kicking your ass.” Angel gasped.

Marcus started she music over again, eliciting a pained sigh from Spike.

“I think I will go get a bit of fresh air...leave you two kids to it.” He
looked Angel in the eye. “Or maybe I’ll stay. I think I've been neglecting
our friend over there.” He looked meaningfully over to Willow. He smiled to
Angel and saunter over to stand by her. “You might want to consider talking,
Angel,” he said quietly. “I may have to start hurting her,” he said as his
ran his fingers through her hair. “Don't think you want that, being Mr.
Tough Guy. I don't think you want to hear the little chit scream.. Well, I
do, but you don't.”

At last, Willow found her tongue. “He's going to kill me anyways.”

Spike laughed. “Now this is true. I am going to kill you, luv. But the
question is how slow? You’re actually here for a dual purpose. The great
poof over there...”

Marcus shoved another hot poker through Angel's thigh, who lets out a short
scream.

Spike grinned to Willow. “Now that is music! Where was I, oh yeah, and for
your blond friend back at home. I’m going to go now, but I’ll be back.” He
whispered into her ear.

“Just imagine what I’m going to use you for with her...”
***
“I don't like this,” Doyle said for the billionth time.

“I know,” Cordelia said. “But what are we going to do?”

“I could call around again?”

“No, bad. Remember what happened when you did that earlier. People are
hanging up on you now, and the rest, well... You know.”

Doyle smirked, “I know. Don't much want that kind of trouble, but if it
found Angel or Willow...”

His words were cut short but crashing coming from below?

“Angel?” Cordelia asked.

“I don't think so. He may be a big guy, but he doesn’t bang into quite so
many things like that.”

“Spike,” she realized.

“I’ll bet on it.”

She snatched up a crossbow just as Spike came through the door.

“When you are done giving the place the Johnny Depp once-over...I hope you
have the cash to pay for all of this.”

The Billy Idol reject stepped closer to her. “Cordelia. Love the hair.”

“Wish I could say the same.” He grinned at that, getting ready for the
pounce.

Doyle found his gun and trained it on Spike. “That's close enough.”

Spike rolled his eyes.“What is it with you good guys running in packs? Who
is this one then?”

“More than meets the eye, Blondie.”

Spike was amused. “Ooh, the Mick’s got spine! Maybe I’ll snap it in two.”

Cordelia tried her hand at brave. “Do you want me to use this?”

“You'll be dead before that arrow leaves the bow.”

She lowered the bow, mentally defeated.

“Now where was I? Bloody tired of looking for that ring. I think you two
should take over now.”

“Where is Angel?” Cordelia asked.

“Angel, um... tall brooding guy, caveman brow?” He smiled, pleased with
himself.

“He's having the living hell tortures out of him. And you know how stubborn
he can be, he might die before he gives up the ring. Why don't you two find
it real fast and give it to me. I’ll let Angel go.”

“Where’s Willow?” Doyle asked.

Spike smiled. “I don't know what your talking about.”

“Liar.” He sounded angry. He felt suddenly very defensive. Of course he was!
An innocent girl was in trouble, but he felt something else, too. He
couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but he did know what it was. He began
to advance on the vampire until Cordelia held him back. Spike grinned again.
God, how he wanted to cut it off his face.

“I don't believe you,” Cordelia said.

“To coin a popular Sunnydale phrase: ‘duh!’ But you have until sundown to
save him. You'll find me behind Peterson’s Fishery between Seward and
Westminster.Don’t be late.”

With that, he walked off.

“He has them both, doesn’t he?” Cordelia asked.

“Yeah, he does, but he doesn’t want us to know he has Willow. Why?”

“Might want to use her against Buffy. It fits his M.O.”

“Aye. Well, we got to do something... fast.”

It was more than true. Things were obviously bad for Angel, but they were
bad for Willow, too. He hoped they were together. When the rescue time came,
it would be easier if they were in the same room. If they weren’t, it could
get ugly.

Especially since his demon half could smell Willow's blood on his clothes.
*****