Suki Blue Fiction

From Out Of Nowhere Series

Back

Xander slurped his drink and glanced over Spike’s shoulder. “What is that thing?”

“What thing?” Spike asked.

Xander pointed. “You know what thing. That thing. That ugly, grotesque thing that is seriously making me want to scream and run for the hills.”

Spike looked behind and grinned. “Oh! Sorry, luv. That’s Angel.”

Xander hit him. “No! The guy he’s doing the dodgy deal with.”

“Ah. That, my love, is a… Actually, I don’t know what sort of demon that is. Not local, I don’t think. Not originally, anyway.”

“How can you be so calm?! That demon is at least ten feet tall!”

“So? What’s size got to do with it? Never heard of a gentle giant? Or The Jolly Green Giant?”

“Yes, but I never pictured The Jolly Green Giant twisting off somebody’s head.”

“Well, he’s a bouncer. That’s his job. And that’s what happens to drug dealers in this place.”

“How comforting.” Xander took another swig of his drink and slammed the glass down. “And this stuff is disgusting. What is it?”

“You really want to know?”

Xander put on expression number seventy eight: doubtful and slightly scared. “No. I’m gonna go get a Coke. They do sell Coke, right? Or am I going to end up with a glass of demon seed?”

Spike couldn’t help but flick a guilty glance at Xander’s half empty glass. He decided that honesty was not always the best policy. “They do Coke,” he offered.

“Great. You want anything?”

Spike opened his mouth.

“Besides a shag?” Xander continued.

Spike closed his mouth again and checked that he still had plenty of lager in his glass. “Nope. I’m good. You’ll give me a shag later, though?”

Spike grinned again as Xander rolled his eyes and made his way to the bar. He picked up his drink and took a long sip, his eyes constantly on his lover as he weaved through the crowd. The bar was a clean, peaceful one, with most of the clientele there to just get away from everyday life, but Spike was always one to err on the side of caution.

Almost exclusively for demons only, many of the club’s patrons had a dislike of humans. It wasn’t that they hated them, made war with them or went out of their way to hunt and kill them. Quite the opposite. They went out of their way to avoid them, many existing almost permanently in underground dwellings and only venturing out to socialise with other like-minded demons in clubs such as this one.

The result of this was that humans weren’t exactly welcome. Vampires – fine in small doses. Humans – considered low-down Nazis.

See, vampires just do their thing and get on with it. They hunt, they kill, and they avoid the sun. Job done. But humans? They were complicated, arrogant, unpredictable and violent beyond any comprehension. For souled beings, the behaviour of most humans was pretty horrific. At least, that’s how much of the demon population saw them, many of those demons retreating to a gathering place that was devoid of human activity.

Hence Spike’s intense scrutiny of Xander’s whereabouts and the proximity of the demons to him. Now, strictly speaking, Xander wasn’t exactly the most human of humans in the whole world. A vampire’s consort and gifted with powers of the gods, Xander was probably one of the most inhuman of humans that any of these demons had come across. But they were still suspicious. They could tell that Xander was different, but they couldn’t quite work out why. The consort status flared like a beacon and warned them not to touch, but that little something extra that he had put them on guard.

Besides, something was very wrong with this neighbourhood right now.

Spike leaned back in his seat and smiled as Xander tried to order his Coke. The poor boy was getting increasingly frustrated as every time he tried to order his drink the bartender frowned, shrugged and wandered away, only to do the same again when Xander called him back and re-ordered. What Xander didn’t realise was that the bartender was a Gremolian demon. In that language, ‘Coke’ meant ‘Please take yourself away’. Rough translation.

“Geez, what was that guy’s problem?” Xander asked as he plopped himself back in his seat. “All that for a Coke? You’re ordering next time.”

Spike saluted. “You’re the boss.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Xander drummed his fingers on the table and took a good look around. He hadn’t really registered his surroundings before now, his attention being somewhat fixed on the surprisingly large demon - that didn’t look in the slightest bit jolly – that Angel had immediately met up with.

Considering that this was a demon club, it wasn’t actually that bad. Well lit and surprisingly clean, Pandemonium was the best demon club that Xander had ever been to. And he’d been to a few.

“So, I’m guessing this place isn’t advertised much,” Xander mused.

“Nope. Demon exclusive. They don’t like prying eyes around here, especially human ones.”

“Is that why every other demon in this place is looking at me like I’m some sort of fungal infection?”

“Yep.”

“And I can expect to get my throat cut when, exactly?”

“They won’t touch you. They just don’t trust you.”

“But they trust you?”

“I’m a demon,” Spike replied with a shrug.

“No fair. I’m nothing but a meddlesome kid.”

“But you’re a sexy meddlesome kid.”

“Duh.”

“Hey, guys. What’s cooking? Angel nearly done?” Doyle sat himself down in one of the empty seats and leaned his elbows on the table.

Spike turned around to briefly check. “Don’t look like it. He’s still in conversation with the object of Xander’s nightmares.”

“He’s scary looking,” Xander explained.

Doyle gave him a look. “You of all people should know not to judge a book by its cover.”

“I’m not saying he’s evil. I’m just saying that…he looks evil. He has evil lookage. And have you seen the size of his claws? Those things could easily rip open a stomach or a bag of chips in a split second. That’s speedy, my friend. And sharp, too.”

Doyle chuckled and shook his head. “You’re out of your tree, man.”

“Who was that bloke you were nattering to?” Spike asked, motioning his head towards the crowd of demons.

“Just an old mate. We used to be poker buddies.”

“You play poker?” Xander asked. “How come I didn’t know that?”

“Because I don’t play anymore,” Doyle answered immediately. “It’s a mug’s game.”

“Yeah, but only if you lose,” Xander argued. “Otherwise it’s win, win all the way to the piggy bank.”

“I used to play for slightly more than money box currency.”

“You in the big league?” Spike asked. “Broken fingers and lots’a cheating?”

“Something like that.” Doyle looked vaguely uncomfortable, so Spike dropped the subject.

“Um, you often hang out with demons?” Xander asked slyly. He’d long suspected that Doyle was more than he seemed and day by day his curiosity grew.

Doyle shrugged. “Sometimes. I never used to – when I was young. But as I got older and realised that…things weren’t always what they seemed, I hung out with a few here and there. I think Angel’s finishing up,” he suddenly said, steering the conversation away.

“All done?” Spike asked as Angel approached the table.

“For tonight.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, he doesn’t trust me. And why should he? A vampire that kills his own kind with a Childe that does the same. And two humans that are…human.”

“So, he won’t help us?” Xander asked.

“No. Not yet.”

“Does it really matter, Angel? There are other informants,” Doyle reasoned.

“Not like this one. Breeta’s got the lowdown on just about all the dodgy demon activity in this area. If we can get him onside, it could really help us in the future.”

“And just how are we going to get him onside? Sacrifice a baby to his demon god? Put on a little skit? What exactly is it going to take this time?”

“Spike -” Angel started.

“Okay, okay, no fighting! Please!” Xander interrupted, jumping quickly between them. In the weeks since Angel had got the chip out of his head, things had been slowly going back to normal between Spike and his Sire. In other words, they were fighting like cat and dog. In a way it was sort of comforting, but in another it was annoying – especially at two in the morning after a long day of listening to Cordelia bitch about her manicurist. “Angel, just tell us. What is it going to take to convince him to help us?”

Angel hesitated before answering. “…I don’t know. Maybe just perseverance. Maybe more. He needs to see that he can trust us to clear up this neighbourhood.”

*This* neighbourhood had once been a good one. A place where families could thrive, children could play in the park and where you could walk down the street without fear of catching a bullet in your back. But that was all slowly disappearing. A wave of crime, drugs and guns had hit this corner of the city hard and the citizens were going crazy with fear, paranoia and the basic need to survive.

The result? A demon war that was about to spiral out of control.

There were three key players:

K’Bat, a cross-breed demon that specialised in drugs that could melt a human brain and hook a demon after the second hit.

Isaac, a bitter and twisted Snarf demon that lived on the fear of others and had an extra special fascination with guns.

Sharl, a demon that was so far in the shadows that no-one even knew what breed he was. His name was the definition of fear and the demon populous cowered from it. Angel wasn’t sure what his involvement was, but the demon did seem to have a five block territory that kept out other gangster activity.

These three demons were greatly feared and, although they were the cause of the neighbourhood problems, no-one was about to point the finger at them. Not without protection and a guarantee of absolute safety.

“So we just keep coming back, then, every night until he does trust us,” Xander said, gathering up his jacket. “Maybe he can tell us something small and we can sort it out for him. Maybe that would help.”

“That’s actually a good idea…” Angel started.

“I’m glad you think so. But not tonight. Some of us have freaky brain-power training with Jaham in the morning. An early-ish night is definitely called for.”

Angel nodded and stared around him. This place was a haven. He wondered for how much longer that would be true.

“We come back tomorrow.”
 

**

It was six o’clock in the evening and Xander had been through eight hours of training with Jaham. This was now a daily event. As the weeks had passed Xander had set fire to two couches, Angel’s carpet and had accidentally caused lightning to strike a poor defenceless mail box that had refused to open up.

Angel’s carpet hadn’t been an accident. Xander just hated it and after finding out that Doyle did, too, he decided to do his friend a favour.

All this meant that Xander needed serious training to harness his powers and prevent him from hurting himself and those around him. And, at Spike’s insistence, Xander was learning how to use those powers in defence and attack. As far as Spike was concerned, the more arsenal Xander had at his disposal the better. It helped Spike to sleep better at night…day.

“Wakey, wakey, rise and shine,” Jaham whispered to bring Xander out of his trance. His training always began and ended with meditation that put him under so deep that he seemed to leave his body and just float away.

Xander’s eyes flickered and slowly opened. “Hey, are we all done?”

“Yes. For today. How do you feel?”

“Am I supposed to say empowered? Rested? Meditated?”

“You may say whatever you feel.”

“Okay, then. I feel…excited!”

“Ah, I thought a saw an extra bounce in your flame throwing this morning.”

“Yeah, sorry about your drapes, man.”

“That’s quite alright. I can get more.”

“Exactly! That’s what I tried to tell Angel about his carpet. He wasn’t quite so understanding, though. How was I to know it was an antique? But then again, it did look totally old.”

Jaham motioned Xander to his feet and passed him a large glass of orange juice. “And why are you so excited?”

“It’s my birthday tomorrow.”

“Congratulations, young man.”

“Thanks. This will be my last day as a teenager. Tomorrow, I become a fully fledged adult.”

“That certainly is something to be excited about.”

“Oh, but that’s not the best part. Spike’s going to give me my main present today. He said he would have given it to me tomorrow, but tomorrow is Sunday and they wouldn’t let him get it then. It had to be today.”

Jaham gave him a curious look. “Sounds interesting. Any ideas what it might be?”

“No idea. Spike said he was having trouble deciding what to get me for my main present but then, from out of nowhere, he had this idea. Anyway, I gotta run. Duty calls. I gotta go help Cordy mind the… one phone that we have.”

“Of course. Well, it’s been nice to see you again. Will you be attending tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

“Wonderful. Perhaps we can work some more on the telekinesis? I’m positive that it is lying dormant somewhere. Best find it before it finds you, yes?”

“Great! Sounds like a plan. See you then.”

“Goodbye, and mind how you cross the street. The traffic gets worse by the day.”

Xander nodded in agreement and offered Jaham a blinding smile. He never got tired of Jaham’s fussing. The old man was fast becoming a beloved friend.

The journey home was a quick one, even though Xander chose to walk rather than take the bus. Considering that he fought beside two vampires and…whatever the hell Doyle was, Xander needed every opportunity to keep fit. And he took those opportunities wherever he could. Power walking - Xander-style - home from Jaham’s was just one of them.

These walks home also gave Xander time to reflect and think, a little bit of alone time which was essential to keep him sane. He would think about that day’s session with Jaham, Spike, his consort status, Angel’s recent problems, Doyle’s secret, his own future. Sometimes he would just let his brain wander and see what it came up with.

Today Xander’s brain decided to think about college. He and Spike had first discussed this back when they lived in their little house in Sunnydale. Spike was convinced that Xander had a talent for art and had persuaded him to consider applying for UC Sunnydale.

Of course, none of that had happened. Not because Xander had wussed out but because the Initiative had struck and made it too dangerous for him and Spike to be in Sunnydale. After the fall-out they had left immediately and come to LA with Angel. So, with all that upheaval, Angel’s near breakdown, the chip, the problems with Graham, not to mention Xander’s gift from Isis, college had been pretty low down on the list.

But things were calmer now – from a personal point of view. Perhaps when the whole demon war thing was all said and done - and Xander had no doubt that with Spike and Angel on the case it would be – he could consider the option of college again. He was sure that Spike would still support and encourage him and the thought of having something of his own, something that no-one else he knew could do was very exciting. Well, he was the only one among them that could do a rain dance, but that was hardly the same thing.

“Hey, Cordy. What’s the sitch?” Xander asked as he stepped through the Angel Investigations door. “Any demons to chase or oogie boogies to smack down?”

“Nada,” Cordy replied without looking up from her book.

Xander sat himself on her desk and fiddled with her pencils. “Watcha reading?” He tilted up the book to look at the cover. “Exorcism for Dummies? Cordy, I think this might be a little advanced for you.”

Cordelia looked up and glared. “Mock all you want. But don’t come running to me when your head starts spinning around and you vomit your lunch all over the floor.”

“And ruin another carpet? I wouldn’t dare. Don’t worry. I promise to remain possession free. Are Angel and Doyle up yet?”

“Hey, it says here that a demon can possess your body at any time. And yes, they’re in Angel’s office.”

“Great. Thanks. For both pieces of info.” Xander slipped off the desk and made his way into Angel’s office without a glance back.

“Oh, but you may want to…!”

“GAH!”

“…knock,” Cordelia finished. “Ooops.”

“Oh, my god,” Xander cried, slapping his hands over his eyes. “I so did not need to see that. I’m definitely deleting that from my memory banks.”

Angel and Doyle pulled apart. “I-I didn’t hear you coming,” Angel spluttered.

Xander kept his eyes covered and instinctively turned away. “Please tell me you’re talking to me and not Doyle. Because if you two aren’t done then can I suggest that I go away and come back at a more convenient time?”

“What’s this, then?” Spike asked in an amused tone as he appeared at the door and leant on the frame. “Blind man’s buff?”

“There’s a blind man in the buff?! Oh, gods, did I step into the Twilight Zone?”

Spike chuckled and moved to pull Xander’s hands from his eyes. “Blind. Man’s. Buff. You gone deaf as well as barmy?”

“No. I just can’t hear very well when my eyes are shut.”

“That statement could only have come from you.”

“Well, it’s true!”

“I have no doubt. Now shut your trap and gimme a kiss, sexy.”

Xander grinned and did just that. The most wonderful place in the world was right here in Spike’s arms, and it had been hours since he’d felt them wrapping around him and holding him tight. Spike’s lips were cool to the touch and Xander felt a chill go through his body as their tongues met and slid together.

“Euw. Gross. It isn’t enough that I have to put up with the touchy twins here – I have to deal with the two of you going at it, too? I don’t get paid nearly enough for this.” Cordelia stood indignantly with her hands on her hips and her nose turned up.

“Yeah, whatever, luv,” Spike laughed. “You love it and you know it.”

“Spike, you’re a pig. And there’s someone on the phone for you.”

“Ah. Great.” Spike released his lover with a final peck to his lips and walked back into the main office.

“And I’m not your secretary!” Cordelia shouted after him as an afterthought.

Doyle smirked. “But if you were, you’d be so good at it. Great dresser, wonderful hair, perfect shoes – you’re every guy’s dream secretary.”

“Really?” Cordelia smiled. “Hey, you’re right. Anybody would be lucky to have me. I mean, so what if my typing sucks and my filing bites. At least I look good while I’m doing it!”

Everybody nodded and made positive noises.

“Right. All set,” Spike announced.

“For what?” Angel asked.

“For Xan’s surprise birthday present, of course.”

“Oh! What is it?!” Xander asked.

“Not telling! Wouldn’t be a surprise, then, would it?”

“I guess not. Can I try and guess?”

“No.”

“Not even with Twenty Questions?”

“No.”

“Can I have a hint?”

“No.”

“Not even a small one?”

“Not one more word, luv, or you’ll get nothing.”

Xander pouted.

“And pack that in, too. It won’t work – much. Stop it!”

Xander grinned and flopped into Angel’s chair. “So when do I get it?”

“When I go and pick it up.”

“And that would be when?”

“Tonight. After we’ve done our bit at Pandemonium. Speaking of which, what’s the plan, Peaches?”

Angel shrugged and ushered Xander out of the chair. “We go. We blend. We see what happens. Not much more we can do at this point.”

“Are you gonna try to talk to this Breeta again?” Spike asked.

“I’ll try. I have to. We need the low-down on these ‘Kingpins’. And right now? He’s all we’ve got.”

**

“Is it me, or is it busier in here tonight?” Xander asked.

“Saturday night, man,” Doyle explained. “What demon doesn’t want to shed his briefcase and dance his troubles away after a hard day of demoning?”

“Good point. Wow, there sure are some scare-your-pants-off types in tonight. Look at that horn!”

Doyle glanced over at the demon that Angel was trying to make conversation with. That was, indeed, a very impressive horn. Doyle frowned in the general direction of his lover and for just a moment he wished that Angel wasn’t quite so single minded.

For weeks Angel had been convinced that this neighbourhood’s demon gangsters centred on this club. All arrows, fingers and claws pointed here.

Doyle wasn’t so sure. The club seemed, to all intents and purposes, to be as clean as a whistle. No drugs, no guns and even biting wasn’t allowed. But there was one thing that did tie the club to the local mooks. The bouncer – Breeta.

That name came up over and over again. Breeta appeared to be the local hardman – a protector of his people and someone that the gangs never messed with. Doyle had trouble figuring that one out. If he was that well known as opposition to the gangs, wouldn’t they just off him? Maybe they were afraid that killing him would just make him into a martyr? Or maybe they were just too afraid.

Doyle watched intently as Angel and his horned companion were joined by Breeta. He’d have to keep his eye on that one.

“Whoa, check out all the tentacles!”

Xander’s exclamation nudged Doyle from his thoughts and he looked around him until he saw the only demon that Xander could possibly be talking about.

“Wow. That is a lot of tentacles.” And there were. Attached to a stunning, electric blue demon, ten long tentacles weaved and wavered in the air. The demon was tall and slender and had the body of the most beautiful woman that either man had ever seen. Perfect in every way, the creature’s body shone with iridescent light as she moved through the crowd, her sensuous tentacles brushing softly against every male within her reach. She turned towards Doyle and Xander only momentarily and smiled before she carried on towards the bar. Her face was human in shape, but the colour and watery texture of her skin made her look very alien indeed.

She was beautiful.

And she was touching up Spike.

“Hey!” Xander slammed down the glass he was holding and marched across the club.

“Sweet Mary Mother of…” Doyle muttered as he followed along behind. He hoped to god this wasn’t going to result in a fight. Or a fire.

“Hey, blue girl! Get your rubbery tentacles off him!”

“Xan,” Spike started.

“No, I got this. I said, unhand him! Or, un-tentacle him!”

The demon slowly withdrew her tentacles. “I am sorry. I didn’t realise the vampire was taken…by a human?” She looked surprised and drew close to inhale deeply. “Almost human,” she remarked, more to herself.

“Yeah, that’s right. He is taken. By me. A human – kinda. He’s mine. So stay away or…”

“Or what, half-breed?” The demon’s tentacles rose and waved in the air in a threatening, Kali-like formation. “Do you believe you can best me?”

Spike put a hand against Xander’s chest and pushed him back. “Hang on a minute, here. Drop the tentacles and step away,” he warned the demon.

“But your lover challenges me.”

“No,” Spike insisted. “He just doesn’t want you to touch me. He doesn’t like it. He’s a bit protective like that. Got a real territorial streak, yeah?”

“Me?!” Xander squealed. “I’ve got a territorial streak?! That’s rich!”

“Shut it,” Spike told him. “He’s just guarding what’s his, understand?”

“The boy shows his loyalty to you?” the demon asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I will forgive the insult.” Tentacles lowered and Spike resisted a sigh of relief.

Xander huffed. “But, I didn’t insult…!” Spike glared. “Nothing.”

“I apologise for any…misunderstanding. Loyalty is one of the most important possessions that anyone – man or demon – can hold. My name is Gagan.”

“Spike. This is Xander. Doyle. And there’s an Angel around here somewhere.”

“It is good to meet you. Will you join me for drinks?”

“Yeah, why not.”

Gagan turned to attract the bartender’s attention.

“Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?” Xander hissed.

“What?”

“You want to have drinks with her?!”

“Yeah? So?”

“She tried to touch you up!”

“Xan, baby, she tries to touch everybody up.”

“And how would you know?”

“Because she’s a Ka’di demon. That’s just what they do. Very highly sexed. Procreate like mad monkeys.”

“Oh, wonderful. Well, that makes me feel so much better. Why don’t you just go ahead and…mpfh.” It was hard to finish a sentence when a sexy vampire had his tongue in your mouth. And hand on your ass. And another one sliding down your pants. “Um, public place?” Xander reminded as Spike released his mouth.

“Just wanna show you how much I love you. You seemed to be needing a demonstration. Want me to go on?”

“Uh…” Xander checked around him. Apparently no-one was paying attention, especially Doyle, who had found an interesting spot on his shoes. “Demonstration, huh? I can get down with that. In fact, I think it’s definitely called for. And then perhaps an in-depth follow-up when we get home? I got a lot of learning to do.”

Spike grinned and rubbed himself against his lover. “That you do. We’d better get an early start.”

~ahem~

Spike turned his head to meet the gaze of an un-amused Angel. “Everything alright?” he enquired in his most polite voice.

“What are you doing?” came the irritated response.

Oh, yeah, Xander thought. He’s back to his old self. Oddly comforting in a bizarro kind of way.

Spike heard the thought and sniggered.

“Uh – we’re just having a drink with the lady here,” Doyle interjected before Spike could tell him in no uncertain terms exactly what he and Xander were doing.

“I am Gagan,” the lady announced, holding out a tentacle for Angel to shake. “And you must be Angel.”

“Ah, you’ve heard of me.”

Gagan looked mildly amused. “I have not. Your friends mentioned your name.”

“Oh. I see.”

Xander smirked. So did Spike.

“But what brings you to our club, Angel, with two almost humans in tow? A little risky, no? You never know who may be lurking.”

Doyle avoided Xander’s quick glance at that statement and instead went back to the spot on his shoes.

“My friends can take care of themselves.”

Gagan moved from the bar towards a booth and motioned for them to follow. Her movements were like liquid silk gliding over a smooth surface and Xander couldn’t help but stare. Until a sharp elbow brought him around.

“Oi,” Spike whispered. “Pack that in.”

“Me? You’re one to talk. Your eyes are practically bulging.”

Gagan cast a brief amused smile at them before turning back to Angel as she sat. “You didn’t answer my question, Angel,” she persisted. “What brings you here?”

“Answers. Questions. Information.”

“Of what kind?”

“The gangland kind. K’bat. Isaac. Sharl. That kind.”

“I see. I trust that you’ve had no luck.”

Angel hesitated before he spoke. “…No. Not yet.”

“And neither will you. Trust is aberrant in these parts. You will not find it easily.”

Xander interrupted. “But you know who they are.”

“Xander,” Angel chided.

Gagan smiled kindly. “It is fine. The boy is right.”

“So that means you can tell us stuff about them, right?” Xander asked.

“Correct. But why would I when talking would get me and my family killed?”

“But if you let us help you, we…” Doyle started.

Gagan finished the sentence for him. “Could take that danger away? Eliminate the threat from my shore?”

“Yup,” Xander said confidently.

“And what will you do when someone else takes their place? The ladder of succession is always present. There is always someone willing to climb to the top.”

“Then we’ll knock them back down and destroy that ladder,” Angel confirmed.

“Um, there isn’t actually a ladder, is there?” Xander asked. “‘Cause I’m kinda scared of heights.”

Gagan tipped back her head and laughed. “I’m sure your vampire will catch you.”

“But what if we’re both on the ladder. Then who’ll catch him? Hey, I guess you could catch us all, what with all the tentacles. I bet you do really well at multi-tasking.”

Gagan continued to laugh. She wiped a tentacle over her eyes before she spoke again. “Actually, I do sometimes get confused. Take my advice, young boy, never plunge a toilet and groom the cat at the same time. The cat won’t appreciate it.”

Xander looked shocked for only a moment before he collapsed into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, followed by his best impression of a very shocked feline.

“So, what else can you do with your appendages? How far do they stretch? Have you got suckers?”

“Xander, can we save the crazy question time for later?” Angel asked.

Spike shot his Sire a dirty look as the bartender brought over their drinks. “So if you won’t give us information, who will?” he asked.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t give you information.”

Xander nodded his head in agreement.

“So, you’ll talk to us?” Doyle asked.

“I didn’t say that either.”

Xander fiddled with a beer mat and accidentally flicked it in the air, narrowly missing Gagan’s top left tentacle. “Ooops. How about if we prove to you that we can get the job done, then will you help us?”

“Maybe.”

“Great. Well, here’s our number. Angel, give her a card. Call us. We help the helpless and the hopeless.”

Gagan scooped up the card that Angel laid on the table and began to walk away. “Angels and demons. Who would have thought?”

Xander gave his friends a thumbs up. “I think we’re on to something.”

“She won’t call,” Angel insisted.

“She might,” Doyle argued.

Angel shook his head.

“Come on, guys,” Xander encouraged. “Lets see some positivity!”

Spike slung an arm around Xander’s shoulders and pulled them both back to recline in the seat. “Yeah, nothing like a bit of positive thinking. Well done, luv. I bet she’ll call tomorrow. In the meantime, who wants another round?”

“Gods, yes, me.” Xander held up the concoction that Gagan had bought him. “I didn’t even dare sip this. Spike, green steam can’t be healthy.”

Spike took the glass and examined it. “Probably for the best. Looks like poison for alien rats. Or that cheap Wal-Mart pop.”

“Really?! Oh, I love that stuff! Gimme!”

**

Xander sat on Angel’s couch and tried desperately not to bounce too much. Or fiddle. Or fidget. Or move at all, in fact. He’d been pacing the room for the last forty minutes, nattering, babbling and showing his unique talent for run-on sentences before Angel had finally ordered him to sit still and pipe down.

“What do you think it is?” Xander grinned and asked Doyle for the third time.

His friend grinned back at him and shook his head. “Still no clue. But whatever it is, it better be worth all this excitement.”

“Oh, it will,” Xander said. “Spike always gets me the best presents. Of course, I can’t actually tell you what most of those presents are – polite company and all – but let me just say he keeps me very happy.”

“I can tell from the constant smile on your face.”

“Obviously he hasn’t got me anything like that this time or he wouldn’t have made me wait here for him. Think he’ll be much longer? What do you think it is?”

“A car?” Angel suggested.

“Huh. Maybe. I don’t remember mentioning I wanted a car.”

“I doubt that would stop Spike,” Angel pointed out.

“Hmm. No. I’m not getting car vibes at all. Nope. Nuh-uh.”

“Jewellery?” Doyle suggested. “Big ol’ gold bracelet?”

“Bling? Me? I don’t think so. And Spike would hate that.”

Angel sat down and pondered. “What would Spike like on you? Leather. It’s got to be leather.”

“No way. He’d never make me wear leather pants. Or maybe it’s a coat just like his. I’m not sure how that would look.”

“Bizarre,” Doyle answered.

“Hey, I can pull off leather, thank you very much. In fact, I might make him buy me some just to prove it. A jacket, though. Not pants.”

“What’s wrong with leather pants?” Angel asked.

“What’s right with them?” Xander replied. “I’m so not going for the Angelus look.” As soon as it had left his mouth Xander knew he’d made a slip-up. “Shit. Sorry. Angel, I…”

Angel held up a hand to stop him. “Xander, it’s okay. Don’t worry. Angelus is history. I’m back now. And I’ll ask you again,” he said, with a smile that was more painted on than real. “What’s wrong with leather pants?”

“They’re…tight. And they make people stare at your ass.”

“What’s your point?”

“I just think there are better asses to stare at than mine.”

Doyle sat forward and fixed Xander with a mischievous grin. “So, what did Angelus’ ass look like in leather pants?”

“Um, kinda nice…uh, I mean, not that I actually looked. But I hear the view was good. Oh, is that the elevator?”

Angel looked behind him as the lift vibrated into action. “Looks like it.”

Xander laughed nervously for no apparent reason before springing up to meet the elevator. “This is great! What do you think it is?” he asked Doyle again, looking over his shoulder at him and bouncing just a little more.

Spike slid open the lift door. “Happy early birthday, luv.”

“Thanks...Uh, what in the hell is…?” Xander never got to finish his question as he was slammed to the floor by one hundred and fifty pounds of excited dog.

“Spike! Jesus!” Angel yelled in a complete panic, quickly grabbing the nearest weapon he could find.

“Ugh!” Xander cried.

“Easy there, Tiger,” Spike calmed Angel. “He’s friendly.”

“Urgh!”

“But he’s mauling Xander!”

“Urgh! Hee!”

“No he isn’t, you plank. He’s giving him doggy kisses. Ain’t that right, big fella?” Spike cooed as he ruffled the dog’s rough, grey fur.

“Euw! Urgh! Hee! Tickles!”

Angel lowered his banana. The giant beast was indeed giving Xander a thorough bath and Xander didn’t seem too unhappy about it.

“Man, that is one Jolly Grey Giant. Ho, ho, ho. Irish Wolfhound?” Doyle asked.

“Yup. Purebred.”

“Looks it. Big,” Doyle observed.

Spike nodded. “He can reach nearly seven foot with his nose when he stands on his hind legs.”

“Um…” Xander called from floor. “Having trouble breathing now.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry, luv.” Spike tugged at the dog’s collar and pulled him away. “Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit…”

“Might wanna work on the training aspect there,” Doyle pointed out.

Xander scrambled to his feet and stared, open mouthed, at the dog. “That’s my present?”

“Yeah.” Spike suddenly felt a little nervous. He’d had the idea to get Xander a dog – a guardian and a protector – for weeks now. But he’d been so wrapped up in getting the perfect one that he’d never actually stopped to think if Xander would actually even want one.

“Wow.” Xander was in awe.

“So, what do you think?”

“I think that when you decide to go out and do something you have to do it big-style. They don’t have puppies in LA?”

“A puppy didn’t feel right, Xan. Wanted a special one. One that would look after you. Looked everywhere, but none of them felt right. Then I heard about this fellow. Went and had a look last week and… He was the one – the only one. I sound like I’m off my trolley, don’t I?”

“Kinda.”

“So, what do you think, then? Like ‘im?”

“Spike…” Xander paused and took a long serious look at the dog. “I LOVE HIM!!!”

Wrenching his head out of one of Angel’s bookcases, the dog looked up at Xander’s yell of delight and woofed. With renewed waggies, the dog barrelled towards him and jumped.

“ACK!”

“Oi! Off,” Spike commanded. “Off. Off. Off. Off.”

“Maybe he uses a different word,” Doyle suggested.

“Right. Yeah. Leave. Leave. Leave. Leave. Erm…Drop. Drop. Drop the Xander. Drop him!”

Xander put up with one last lick along the entire expanse of his face before he gently pushed the animal away. “Hey, off, boy. Go lay down.”

And he did.

“How the bloody hell did you get him to do that?!”

“I have The Gift when it comes to animals,” Xander explained. “Well, apart from my Aunt Trudy’s horse. How was I to know he didn’t like mustard sandwiches? And my mom kept birds. They used to go crazy every time I walked past them. She used to say I was her very own little Damien. And then there was the school mascot. He didn’t really like me either, especially after I ate him.”

Spike held out his hand and pulled Xander back to his feet. Again. “I think maybe he just likes you,” Spike reasoned. “I knew he would. Had a feeling.”

Xander smiled and leant his forehead against Spike’s. “I really love him,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“Got competition now, have I? I think I can live with that. Glad you like him. He’ll keep you safe, Xan. I know he will. He’ll be there when I can’t be.”

“You worry too much about me.”

“I don’t worry enough.”

“Objection.”

“Overruled.”

“Thank you, Spike. I love you.”

“Love you too, baby. More than…”

“NOOOO!!!”

Spike, Xander and Doyle jumped at Angel’s sudden, pained scream.

“What the hell? Angel, are you alright? Angel?” Doyle asked.

“Oh, god.”

“What is it, Peaches? Seen a ghost?”

“No. But I’ve just seen your damn dog. My carpet!!!”


**

“Do you think Angel will ever speak to us again?” Xander asked.

“We can hope not.”

“Spike! Seriously.”

“Seriously? Let him get the damn carpet cleaned and then you can go back and ruin it again. Three time’s the charm. Then he definitely won’t speak to us again for at least a couple of weeks. It’ll be like a holiday.”

Xander turned the key in the lock and pushed open the apartment door. “Um, Spike?” Xander said, ignoring his lover’s ‘joke’ completely. “I think either we need to find a shrinking potion for the dog or get a bigger apartment.”

Spike stepped in and looked around. The dog had rushed in ahead and was busy checking out his new surroundings for potential food. “Ah. Yeah. It is like trying to stuff a cat in a hamster ball.”

The dog’s ears pricked up briefly at the word ‘cat’ before it stuck its entire head into the kitchen bin.

“Mind you,” Spike continued. “It’s not like we’re in much, anyway. Think of it like a giant dog bed. This is just where he eats and sleeps.”

A large furry head popped up, holding a crumpled pizza box.

“Actually,” Xander mused, “I think he’s gonna pretty much eat wherever he goes.”

“Well, as long as he doesn’t crap wherever he goes.”

“No, no. He’s gonna save that for Angel.”

Spike threw himself on the couch and lifted his feet onto the coffee table. “I knew there was a reason I liked him.”

**


Xander knew there was a reason that he didn’t like sewers. So did Doyle. For them, the sewer system had absolutely no upside and a million downsides. It was dirty, smelly, slimy, smelly, kinda scary, smelly, damp, cold. And to top it off, it was extremely smelly.

“Why is it always the sewer?” Doyle complained.

Xander screwed up his nose and walked a little faster. “You just read my mind. Why do we do it, huh? Okay, so they have to use the sewers during the day, but we don’t. You know what it is?”

“What?”

“We’re under the thumb,” Xander deduced.

“Yeah! We are completely under the thumb. They say jump, we say how high. Or maybe they just say sewer and we say let me get my coat. At least he’s enjoying himself.” Doyle motioned to the excitable dog bounding up and down the tunnel.

“I think he likes to splash.”

“So I’ve noticed. Angel doesn’t like to splash, but it looks like Rover isn’t giving him a choice.” Doyle grinned and winced as the dog jumped in the air and planted all four feet firmly in the shallow water next to Angel.

“Angel’s gonna make me buy him new socks, isn’t he?”

“At least you know what to get him for Christmas.”

“Good point. Waterproof socks and a sou’wester?”

“Sounds sensible.”

~SPLASH~

“Erm, it’s a long time until Christmas. When’s his birthday?”

“Speaking of which,” Doyle began, “this is a fine way to spend your birthday. Did you even get a chance to open a present?”

“Nope. Didn’t get the chance for a birthday anything.”

“That is a shame,” Doyle smirked.

“I didn’t even get a birthday something last night.”

“No? Damn, Xander, I’m shocked.”

“Well, you know us; we would have, but Whacky got in the way. He’s kinda affectionate.”

“Whacky?”

Xander pointed at the dog. “Whacky.”

“Wow. That is one whacky name.”

“Exactly.”

“Does Spike know?”

“Of course!”

“Really?”

“No.”

“I thought so.”

“He wanted to call him Bullet,” Xander complained. “He doesn’t look anything like a Bullet. Or a Killer. Or a Turkish. Or a Vinnie.”

“Am I sensing a theme there?” Doyle asked with a chuckle.

“He just watched Snatch again,” Xander sighed.

“Oi!” Spike called back. “Stop lagging!”

Xander saluted and sped up a little more.

The call had come at a little after seven in the morning. A demon fight had broken out overnight somewhere near the Pandemonium club. It had apparently started as an argument over a trifling issue, such as one demon being too familiar with the girlfriend of another. Blows were exchanged and somewhere along the line it had escalated into something resembling a mini-turf war.

Still fired up and erupting all over the place, the instigator had escaped into the sewer system and was hiding out with a hostage from the opposing mob. The rival gang was, at this point, still unaware of this fact and Angel had been called in to find the runaway demon and defuse the situation.

But the surprising thing? The call had not come from Gagan, as expected. It had come from Breeta – the bouncer – and, while Angel was as pleased as punch by this, Doyle wasn’t so sure. Something told him that they shouldn’t place their trust so easily in this guy.

The tunnel came to an end and Spike led the way up the ladder and into an underground car park.

“And we’re doing what here, exactly?” Xander asked.

“Following the breadcrumbs,” Spike replied, pointing at the ground. “The hostage is a Talaxeone demon. And she’s bleeding.”

“That green stuff is blood? Euw. Ectoplasm.”

“Looks like she’s lost a lot,” Doyle observed.

Angel nodded. “We’d better find her, and fast.”

Spike motioned to Doyle and Angel with his head. “Smart pair, aren’t they, Xan?”

“So is Whacky. Did you know he can climb ladders?” Xander asked.

“No, I didn’t. Knew he was smart dog, though. I wonder if he can…? Hang on. Whacky?!”

“Yeah. Don’t you think it suits him?”

“No. I thought we were going to call him Brick Top!”

“Guys?” Doyle interrupted. “How about you two discuss the dog’s name another time, before you both get beheaded by the large demon that’s trying to creep up on you?”

“Eh?” Spike whipped his head around and was surprised to find that Doyle wasn’t lying. “How the fuck did you do that without me hearing, you little snot?”

“Snot, yeah,” Xander said as he turned around and backed carefully away. “But not so much with the little. Oh, look, just for fun, there’s another one.”

Doyle turned around and squinted into the darkness. “And another. And another. Anybody else getting a bad feeling?”

Xander raised his hand. “Me?”

Spike looked at him and nodded as another demon stepped into view. “I’ll second that bad feeling and raise you a gut feeling that we’ve been had.”

Angel drew an axe from his jacket. “Looks like a set-up.”

“I just said that, you plank!” Spike snapped.

“Do you think there’s even a hostage?” Xander asked.

Another demon, similar to the others but wider, slid from the shadows. Like his companions, he was Talaxeone, but his mottled face was crested from forehead to lips with a bright red ridge. “Fools! We needed no hostage. Just a story was enough.”

“Breeta did this,” Doyle spat. “I knew it! Angel, I told you we couldn’t trust him.”

“Lesson learned,” Angel replied. “What’s this about?” he asked the crested demon.

“It’s about you not sticking your nose in business that doesn’t concern you. Ask the wrong questions – ask any questions – and the boss gets…nervous. And when the boss gets nervous…”

“Who’s your boss?” Xander interrupted. “If I’m gonna die, I’d at least like to know who killed me, you know, just for reference. Who knows what forms I’ll have to fill in on the other side? Unless they already have everything all catalogued. Maybe they just hand you a card and you punch it in when you go through the gate. That would be convenient and so much quicker.”

“Silence, you miserable child!”

“Hey, I’m not miserable! Well, not since this morning and that’s only because I couldn’t find my other sock even though I knew I’d left it right there on the bed. And then Spike found it in Whacky’s water bowl. It was totally soaked and I had to dry it with Spike’s hairdryer. So then – because I hadn’t done any laundry - I ended up wearing one black and one white. Look.” Xander pulled up his pant legs to display his mismatched socks.

The Talaxeone looked down. And never looked back up.

Spike slid his sword from the demon’s back and grinned. “Now that is what I call teamwork. Right, who’s next?” Spike asked, turning around to face the other demons. None of them looked overly confident. “No volunteers? Are we going to have to draw straws now, folks?”

Xander grinned as the demons backed away. “Look at them wilting without their leader.”

Whacky sat by Xander’s side and watched. At first it had looked like there was going to be trouble, and not the type that involved having to dig a hole so that the family cat wouldn’t find your bone. It looked like it was going to be a bite and shake kind of situation, with possibly a small amount of chasing. That would have been fun. And it probably would have got him a tummy rub and a rawhide chew. But hey, he’d probably get that anyway, knowing his new masters. He’d been with Xander and Spike for less than twenty four hours, but already he’d received one bowl of food, twelve biscuits, two back scratches and a very satisfying ear-tickle. They were very generous masters.

But what was this? One of the demons feeling brave?

Whacky looked around him. Two of the demons had fled, Angel was taking down a third with Doyle’s help and Spike was busy smashing the fourth demon’s skull into the concrete ground.

And the fifth one? Was charging at Xander.

Whacky stood and made some simple calculations in his head. His master was strong. His master could apparently burn people where they stood, and, boy, did Whacky not want a demonstration of that. His master was a vampire consort. His master was fast. His master was armed. His master…

…couldn’t even deliver a bowl of water without tipping it over himself. Yeppers, it was time for some doggy action.

Muscles tensed and sprang as Whacky suddenly hurtled across the car park towards the threat. Even if the Talaxeone could have had time to react, he would only have made half a gasp of surprise before razor sharp canines and other assorted teeth sank deep into his jelly-like skin. The resulting scream of agony was heard a block away.

Then came the shaking. The shaking was fun. Whacky gripped the arm even tighter and shook the demon until money, a lighter, a pack of cigarettes and a chocolate bar fell from his pocket. He let go of the arm and ate the chocolate, wrapper and all.

Whacky stood and wagged his tail as the demon groaned in pain and his masters approached.

“Whoa! Good Whacky! Did you see that, guys? He defended me! Either that or he could smell the chocolate and wanted to beat me to it.”

Xander grinned and ruffled Whacky’s fur.

Spike smiled. His idea had been perfect. This dog was perfect. This dog was going to protect Xander.

Whacky yawned, making a sound like a creaking gate. He’d finally found his destiny. And, wow, that sure was a good chocolate bar.

Doyle looked down at the fallen demon and reminded himself to never play fight with Xander.

Angel looked down at the fallen demon and growled. “Let’s find out who this guy is working for.”

**

“No, Angel, stop!” Doyle grabbed Angel’s arm and stopped him from entering the elevator. Not that he could have actually stopped him if Angel had decided he was going anyway.

“I need to speak with Breeta. I want to know why he set me up.”

“Hey, he set up all of us. And why? Because he’s working for one of them. Angel, I really think going to see him now would be a very bad idea. Let’s all stop and think about it. At least wait until nightfall? Crispy-fried Angel is not what I had in mind for today.”

“Does anyone else suddenly have the urge for southern-fried chicken?” Xander asked.

Spike raised his arm and Whacky wagged his tail.

“Angel, come on,” Doyle pleaded. “It’s Xander’s birthday. Let’s just all calm down, do the birthday stuff and think about what we’re doing here.”

“Birthday stuff? Presents?”

Spike leered and trailed his fingers up Xander’s leg. “If you’ve been a good boy. Have you?”

“Yes, sir!”

Angel looked over at the elevator and then back to Doyle’s pleading expression and Xander’s hopeful face. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” Doyle grinned. “I’m always right, except for when I’m wrong, and that rarely happens.”

Angel shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Okay. You go get the cake. Then we can talk about what we’re going to do.”

Xander bounced slightly. “Cool! Battle plans. That sounds like terrific birthday fun. And I get cake?”

“Sorry, luv. Wanted today to be perfect.” The day certainly wasn’t going according to the master plan. There was supposed to be wake-up sex, breakfast and presents in bed followed by huggles, snuggles and more sex. Then Xander was going to visit Jaham for a few hours of flame throwing fun, after which Spike was planning to pick him up at nightfall and take him back to Angel’s for more presents, cake, and to drop off Whacky. Spike had made dinner reservations at a restaurant that he knew had the best dessert menu in the Southwest. But now that was all ruined.

“It’s okay, Spike. This is good.”

“Nearly getting gutted is good?”

“No, us all together is good. It’s all I really want. I don’t need all that other stuff.”

Spike smiled and pulled Xander into his arms. All that other stuff hadn’t exactly been asking for much. All Spike was asking for was one day of normality to celebrate Xander leaving behind his teenage years. He’d been wondering quite often recently how many birthdays Xander had actually got to enjoy. Spike put the thoughts aside before growling ensued. “You don’t have to go to Jaham’s today if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to – just for a few hours. He’s expecting me.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Xander,” Angel interrupted. “We should be sure of what we’re dealing with before we do anything.”

“I’m just going to Jaham’s. I wasn’t planning on painting a target on my back and shouting ‘come and get me, gangster dudes’ in the middle of the street.”

Spike wasn’t sure who he wanted to side with. On one hand, he did agree with Angel and the thought of Xander putting himself at risk made him feel sick. But on the other hand, Xander looked dead set about going and disagreeing with him about it was probably going to result in an argument. And besides, Xander was capable of taking care of himself. No, he’d let him go and he wouldn’t make a fuss.

“You go, luv. Take the car. And the dog. And ring me when you get there. And when you’re going to leave. And tell Jaham what’s happened. And don’t do anything stupid. And be careful.” Well, not much of a fuss.

Xander smiled at his lover and kissed him. “I love you. Don’t ever change.”

“What? What did I do?”

“Okay, dim the lights!” Doyle called from the kitchen. He was carrying a large chocolate cake adorned with twenty multi-coloured, lit candles. He smiled kindly as he turned his gaze from the cake to Xander and began a surprisingly tuneful rendition of Happy Birthday.

Xander couldn’t help it. The focus was suddenly on him and Xander was embarrassed by it. He blushed and ducked his head. He wasn’t normally the main focus, even when it was his birthday. His parents had barely acknowledged it and his friends hadn’t done much better. He could forgive his friends, though. It was the price you paid for life on a Hellmouth and a friendship with the Slayer. And Willow had tried to make his birthdays special when they’d been kids. She’d given him cookies and a present and had even let him tie up all her Barbies and hold them at plastic gun point.

“Happy birthday, luv,” came a voice beside him. Xander looked up and put the memories to the back of his brain.

“Wow, chocolate cake for breakfast! Life doesn’t get much better than this. Thanks, guys. Now, someone said something about presents?”

**

The presents turned out to be a ton of things that Xander didn’t really need. But he sure wanted them. Books, comics, action figures, video games and DVDs – there was enough to keep him out of mischief for weeks to come. And these were just the presents from Doyle and Angel. He still had presents to come from Cordelia and, most importantly, Spike. Not that he needed any more ‘stuff’; he was happy with what he’d already got. In fact, he would have been just as happy without any of the presents, with the exception of Whacky. He could never, ever part with him now.

Xander sighed to himself and shifted gear. He’d left Angel’s and Doyle’s place half an hour ago. He’d dropped Spike at home under a blanket and had promised to be back just after nightfall. Whacky was in the back seat – currently. The scruffy mutt had started in the front but had since spent the last ten minutes alternating between jumping seats and poking his head through the window to feel the wind rush through his chops.

“So, Whacky. What do you think about us, then? Do we meet with your canine approval?”

Whacky jumped back into the front and licked Xander’s face.

“Hey, not while I’m driving! So you like me, huh? That’s cool. I like you too. I’ll take good care of you. Always kinda wanted a dog. What do you think of Spike?”

Whacky wagged his tail.

“Yeah, he’s the best. Listen to me – I sound like a high school girl! My boyfriend is the best!” Xander chuckled and steered the car around the corner. “How about Angel? You like him?”

Whacky cocked his head to the side and whined.

“Yeah, I know. You’ll get used to him. And I’m hoping he’ll get used to you, too. He’s not too big with the being happy and showing positive emotion thing. That’s why Spike calls him Brood Boy. I know you’ll like Jaham. He’s like the Grandpa I never had. Well, a kinda scary but loveable Grandpa. And here we are.”

Xander pulled the car over and parked up. “Now don’t do anything on the carpet that you did on Angel’s. Actually, it’s not allowed there, either, but I’m cutting you some slack on the basis that I too am recently guilty of Carpeticide.”

The door opened before Xander could knock. “Hi!”

“Hello, Alexander. Who is this fine looking fellow?”

“Jaham, Whacky. Whacky, Jaham.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Jaham had to reach up in order to pat the dog’s large head. “What a magnificent creature. A gift?” he asked Xander.

“From Spike,” Xander confirmed.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you said ‘hm’. ‘Hm’ always means something. What does it mean?”

“I was just thinking.”

“And?”

“He seems like exactly the right gift – like he always should have belonged to you.”

“Yeah, well, Spike’s pretty good at gift-shopping. Once, he got Cordelia this clock when she was mad at him. We all said that a clock wouldn’t cut it, but she loved it! I guess it was pink and shiny. She was having a pink and shiny phase at the time. I think she’s into silver now.”

“Shall we start?” Jaham suggested.

Xander frowned as he noticed that they were already in Jaham’s office. Whacky had gone to sleep on the rug by the fire and Jaham was crossed legged on the floor with the meditation candles already lit.

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“That? The whole time shifting thingy.”

Jaham laughed and motioned for Xander to sit down. “I did no such thing. It was you and your wandering mind. You must focus.”

Xander narrowed his eyes for just a second before he relented and sat.

“Now, close your eyes and…”

“Go to my happy place, I know, I know.” Xander willed his body to relax. He’d been practicing this for weeks, but it was always the first few moments that were the hardest, forcing his mind to clear the days past and the days to come.

He began to visualise a place of peace where he could suspend his reality and focus his dreams.

Xander had tried all sorts of places that struck him as peaceful. Willow’s childhood bedroom. His own bedroom. His favourite park back in Sunnydale. Spike’s arms. None of them worked. Finally, Jaham had suggested a fictional place, somewhere serene and tranquil. Xander had thought it corny, but gave it try anyway. It worked. With no memories of a real place, there was no Spike to have sex with, no Willow to play with, no other kids to bully him and no father to shout at him and hit him and…

Xander opened his eyes quickly to find Jaham staring back at him. “S-sorry. Mind wandered,” he stuttered.

Jaham nodded knowingly and patiently. He smiled briefly and kindly and closed his eyes again to signal Xander to do the same.

Xander shut his eyes. But it was useless. His mind was racing now. One simple thought and he’d fucked the whole thing. And Jesus, Jaham had probably read his mind. He opened his eyes again. “Um…”

“How about we play a game?”

Xander was taken aback “Don’t you want to…? Did you just…?”

“Perhaps a game would be better today. It is your birthday, after all. You know what they say about all work and no play.” Jaham got to his feet and trundled off to a cupboard that Xander had never noticed before.

“Uh – it makes Jack a dull boy? Sure. What kind of game? Guess the symbol on the card? Not the ink-blot thing again.”

Jaham returned to the rug and placed the game on the floor between them.

“Clue? Cool.”

“Would you set up the board? I’ll get the chips. And your birthday gift.”

With his earlier thoughts pushed away, Xander grinned and pulled the lid from the game box. “Can I be Miss Scarlet?”

**

Angel slammed the demon against the wall and pinned him. The sun had set only moments before, but Angel had been ready. He’d kissed his dozing lover goodbye and descended into the sewers an hour ago and, now that LA was sheathed in an ever darkening blanket, Angel saw fit to strike.

Breeta hadn’t been hard to find. Gangsters never were. Just follow the trail of women, booze and bodies and you’d eventually bump into one.

Doyle had been right all along. Breeta wasn’t what he seemed - not at all. Operating as a bouncer at the local demon club – Pandemonium – Breeta was most probably a plant, a spy for someone further up the criminal ladder. Angel had been right that he was the one to go to for information. The demon certainly knew just about everyone there was to know. He’d just cut your throat after he’d told you.

“Who do you work for?” Angel growled.

“You are still alive, then. My source wasn’t lying. I guess I killed him for no good reason.”

“I asked you a question. Who do you work for?”

Breeta laughed and planted his hands in the centre of Angel’s chest, sending him stumbling backwards. “Of course I may not have believed him, but I’m never one to take chances, Angel.”

Angel regained his footing and swung his right arm to catch Breeta’s jaw in a shattering blow. As the demon’s legs momentarily failed him, Angel pulled him back up and delivered another hard strike.

Breeta crashed against the wall. He smiled nastily and wiped away the blood that was pouring down his chin. “You’re strong – even for a vampire. I see why my welcoming party never came back. And I thought they were just dawdling, as Talaxeones inevitably do.”

“Who do you work for?”

“You’re very repetitive. Anyone ever tell you that?” As Angel rounded on him again, Breeta suddenly lunged forward, his body connecting with Angel’s, spilling them both to the ground. Breeta jumped up, his form towering over Angel. He lifted his leg and slammed his foot down onto Angel’s chest. Bones audibly cracked and the demon grinned at the sound. “Music to my ears. Although, I gotta say, I definitely prefer the sound of a skull cracking.”

Angel gritted his teeth and bore the pain in his chest. Yeah, it hurt like hell, but he had definitely dealt with worse.

This demon was strong, stronger that Angel himself. In a fists against fists fight, it was Breeta that was going to come out on top. But there was one thing Angel had on his side – speed. As he lay on his back and gathered his wits, Angel closed his eyes and waited.

“I did warn you, Angel. I warned you several times. But, I’m a forgiving type of demon. I don’t usually hold grudges. I will let your friends live – Doyle, Spike, Xander, Cordelia.”

Angel carefully showed no reaction to the fact that Breeta knew Cordelia’s name, despite her never having been mentioned.

“See how generous I am? But, Angel, my boss isn’t so forgiving. K’bat has already given the order. They’ll be at your office any second. And your friends’ apartment. And the old wizard’s house of witchery. He felt that a strong message needed to be sent out. Interference will not be tolerated. And I…”

Angel cracked open his eyes as he heard Breeta shift away from him as he spoke. He heard the moment that the demon glanced into the air.

“…talk too much,” Angel finished. Unwilling to play any sort of game, he pulled out a long dagger from the holster on his belt. He flipped himself into the air and onto his feet and kicked Breeta’s legs from under him. Angel’s face had long since turned to show his own demon. His growl was low and deadly and as he held the knife to Breeta’s throat he knew one thing alone. He was going to kill this demon. Without hesitation, he drew the blade across ruddy flesh and dropped the lifeless and somewhat surprised body to the floor.

There hadn’t been a choice. He couldn’t have allowed Breeta to live, to fight him and slow him down, to call for back-up, to snitch on him to the boss – not if he wanted to save his family. If it wasn’t already too late.

Angel ran.

**

Xander waved goodbye to Jaham and opened the passenger door to let Whacky jump in. “See you tomorrow! Thanks for my present – whatever it is.”

Jaham’s birthday gift had been some sort of puzzle. Hundreds of tiny wooden pieces of many shapes apparently fitted together to make a 3D object. Xander had no idea what the object was, but he assumed he’d work it out sooner or later. Still, it would give him something more interesting to do than read Cordy’s fashion magazines whenever it was his turn to mind the phone.

Jaham raised his hand to wave goodbye, but where Xander expected to see a friendly smile he instead saw Jaham’s expression glaze over into something far different.

Why was it that time went so fast when all you wanted was for it to slow down so that you could savour, relish or perhaps even just process?

“Jaham? What…?”

Jaham dropped to the floor before Xander even had time to register that the old man had a little more than heartburn. It was only then that Xander realised there had been a sound much like that of gunfire.

Xander ran back up the path to the old man’s house and dropped to his knees next to Jaham’s body. “Oh, god.” He heard the next shot clearly enough, but it took several moments to register the pain in his arm.

Whacky barked and growled in the distance and as Xander tried his hardest not to keel over on top of his mentor he dimly wondered if he’d shut the car door or if his dog was running loose in the road. Jesus, Whacky was going to get run over.

Xander turned his head to look at the road just as another shot rang out. This time he felt the pain immediately. White hot agony exploded through his stomach and Xander fell back, his head smacking hard on the concrete ground.

A short distance away a man hung out of a car window, his gun aimed and ready for one last shot. One last shot to ensure that his job was done and the target was down for good. He peered through the sight, lined up the barrel with the boy’s head and squeezed the trigger.

**

Spike heard movement in the hallway outside the apartment. He checked his watch. About time, too. Xander was thirty eight seconds late. He was going to give him ten more seconds before he started to worry, but it seemed that he didn’t have to.

Closing his book and throwing it down on the table, Spike got up off the couch to let Xander in. They’d left all the birthday gifts in the car and, what with Xander probably trying to drag them up all at once and Whacky no doubt jumping about at his feet, Xander was bound to need a hand.

But the movement outside didn’t sound like Xander. It didn’t take vampire hearing to notice that there was no one hundred and fifty pound dog bouncing around.

Confident footsteps stopped outside the door and Spike quietly pulled a sword from the wall display and deftly moved forward. Something gave him a bad feeling. But then again, everything usually gave him a bad feeling. He didn’t mean to be a pessimist, but in a vampire’s line of work it was more or less a requirement.

As he slowly moved closer to the door, the person on the other side knocked. He still had a bad feeling. Spike raised the sword and got ready to open the door.

Either someone was going to lose their head or the Avon Lady was about to get the shock of her life.

Spike swung open the door. He didn’t even have time to change his face before a force like an erupting volcano hit him full in the chest and blasted him across the room. Bullet after bullet penetrated his body and shattered the room. Spike lost track of the pain after the tenth hit and instead let himself drift in thought.

Huh. What a weird way to attack a vampire.

**

The drive seemed to take hours when in reality it was only a matter of minutes. He’d tried phoning everybody: Doyle, Cordelia, Spike, Xander, Jaham – there had been no reply from any of them.

He wasn’t too late. He wouldn’t be too late. There was no way this was happening.

Why was this happening?

A few weeks ago Angel had been asked for help by a lone Bi’Jou demon. Gang warfare was breaking out in a darkened corner of LA and the demon had been worried about the safety of his cubs. It all sounded simple enough and, like the idiot he was, Angel had gone in head first without one single rational thought.

Yeah, sure, let’s take on two – possibly three – established groups of criminals. Let’s put our lives on the line and nose about in the business of killers, drug dealers and arms dealers.

Very sensible. Openly asking questions and poking about where no man-with-brains would ever knowingly poke was just the highlight of Angel’s path to redemption.

Getting his family killed had been right at the top of his list of things to do before retirement. Well, that and break into a nuclear power plant and accidentally blow a hole in the side of the world.

He’d leave that for next week. Best not overdo it.

Angel rounded the corner and instinctively put his foot down as the office came into sight.

No police cars. No paramedics.

All was calm.

Nottoolate. Nottoolate. Nottoolate. Nottoolate. Nottoolate.

Before Angel could take his foot from the accelerator and slow the car, the street suddenly lit up with blinding, orange light. With a tumultuous boom, fire exploded in all directions in a great cloud of destruction.

Doyle.

Angel screamed out his anguish, his voice lost beneath a wave of obliteration that sounded like the planet was cracking in two. His car spun and flipped over and over again, caught up in a flourishing shock wave that one could only experience if one was witnessing the annihilation of an entire city block.

Doyle.

As people screamed and ran, the sky rained brick and debris and the street filled with a toxic cloud of black smoke that blinded all and suffocated the living.

Windscreen blown inwards, Angel’s car flipped over again and landed right side up on the other side of an SUV.

So much death. So much destruction.

Pandemonium.

People screamed and choked and died where they stood. People – calling out for their loved ones, laying down their lives to help the strangers next to them.

Angel felt sick. Had he caused this?

Doyle.

The spirit of man grew around him and took over, dragging the wounded - or the dead if they couldn’t tell - through the poisonous cloud and away from the raging heat that scorched their skins.

Without any more hesitation, Angel turned on his heels and strode away from the fire. If Doyle had been inside – sleeping where he’d left him – then he was dead. Angel had the rest of his family to find.

Grief, anger and a murderous rage filled him to bursting point and the part of him that would forever be Angelus screamed with fury and promised retribution.

Everyone would die for this.

**

Xander felt like he was someplace else. Neither here nor there, he felt himself floating somewhere in-between.

What exactly was happening here?

Oh, he’d been shot.

Happy fucking birthday, Xand.

Still, he didn’t feel too bad, all things considered. There was no pain – only a feeling of total calm.

Isn’t there supposed to be a light or something?

An image shrouded in shimmering blue flickered as Isis appeared before him. She shook her head.

You’re floating. In the sky, Xander told her.

So are you.

Oh. Am I dead? I don’t feel dead.

Isis shook her head again.

So, that’s good, right? Can I go now? I think I hear Whacky.

Isis smiled and nodded. Keep him close. Keep them all close. Long years and dangerous days. An army of light against the dark ones. The Order of the Pure will return and the Gods will be angered beyond even my comprehension.

Um, gonna expand on all that?

Isis simply floated.

Guessed as much. Oh, by the way, we are trying to find a way to get you out of the whole snake situation and back to your normal Goddessy self. It’s just that we’ve been having trouble. And things have been really hectic, but…

Her smile stayed in place as her hand slowly rose. The path is as it should be. Go. Take these.

Like a curtain, the world around him parted and Xander found himself hurtling backwards through the sky towards the ground. Pain suddenly gripped him and Xander cried out and threw his arms around his waist to try to stop the blood from pouring away.

To his left a dog growled and snarled. To his right the sky exploded.

Xander sucked in a noisy, panicked breath and opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground and his head hurt like hell.

What exactly was happening here?

The memories suddenly flooded back and Xander sat up straight, wincing at the pain in his arm and stomach. Surprisingly, it didn’t actually hurt as much as he thought it would. He slowly unwrapped his arms from his waist and realised that he was holding something. Opening his hand, he wasn’t entirely sure why he was in possession of two bullets.

“You are lucky indeed to have a Goddess watching over you.”

The voice surprised him and Xander jumped and looked over at his friend. “Jaham…?!”

“Don’t worry yourself over me. It’s not as serious as it could have been. I have called help for myself. But you must fly.”

“Fly?!”

“Go. You must go. I worry that this is not an isolated…”

“Oh, god…Spike. Are you sure…?!”

“Very sure. And don’t forget your other friend. He’ll make himself sick if he’s not stopped.”

Xander looked over to where Jaham was pointing and was sickened to see Whacky chowing down on a lonely arm that was still attached to a rifle.

Standing on very shaky legs, Xander got his balance and started back down the path towards the car. “Whacky, drop.”

Whacky looked up and did as he was ordered. He quickly padded over to his master and sniffed him up and down. He would be fine. He had known that he would be.

Xander looked down at himself as he pushed Whacky’s nose away to open the car door and get in. The front of his shirt was soaked in ruby red blood. He lifted it carefully and inspected the wound. Bloody, bruised and still very painful, it looked bad but it certainly didn’t look like he’d been shot. He ignored the throbbing pain in his arm, assuming that it would look much the same. He didn’t have time to check it right now.

He had to find Spike. He had to find his friends.

Xander turned the car around in the road and slammed his foot on the accelerator.

It was only then that he noticed the flames licking at the sky.

**

Xander pushed at the open door and stepped inside. His stomach heaved at the state of the apartment. Bullet holes decorated what was left of the walls and every piece of furniture was torn, shredded and destroyed, ripped apart by generous gunfire.

Everything was gone.

Except for Isis. Her vivarium intact, she sat wrapped around a branch. Apparently, she wasn’t bothered by the chaos that had just swept though.

Rooted to the spot and positive that he couldn’t move even if his feet were on fire, Xander let the tears fall. It was supposed to be a day of fun, presents and way too much food, and it had turned into a nightmare. His instincts were telling him to search the tiny apartment for any sign of his lover, but his heart wouldn’t let him move.

What if Spike was dead?

The thought overwhelmed Xander and he fell to his knees and sobbed into what had been the couch. Their couch. Everything was gone. Everything that was theirs was destroyed.

“Spike,” Xander whispered. “Don’t be dead. Please.”

Whacky wandered into the apartment and looked quizzically at his master. He’d been lagging behind, taking the rear to make sure that no-one was following them, no-one that could harm his masters further. But upon hearing Xander’s unabashed crying he’d quickened his pace to see what the matter was and whether he could offer a wet nose to console.

“Spike.”

So that was it. Master number one wanted master number two. Well, that was easily solved. He was right over there.

Whacky padded over to a vampire-shaped pile of rubble and sat down beside it. He barked twice to get Xander’s attention and quickly pawed at the debris to reveal a boot-clad foot.

Movement re-entered Xander’s legs and he hurled himself across the apartment and scrabbled at the pieces of fallen ceiling and broken furniture. “Spike! SPIKE!”

“AH! Bleedin’ hell!” Spike suddenly sat bolt upright, catapulting all the surrounding debris from the top half of his body across the room.

“Spike!! Oh, god, I thought… You weren’t… I… Spike!”

Xander had thrown his arms around his lover by this point. He clung to him as though his life depended on it and Spike clung back just as hard. “’S alright, pet. I’m here. Covered in bloody holes, but I’m here. You alright, darlin’?”

Xander nodded silently and clung tighter.

Spike pushed more debris from his legs with one hand, keeping the other arm wrapped firmly around Xander’s back. It was then that he smelt it. With a snarl he pulled away and held tightly to the tops of Xander’s arms.

The sight of blood had never made him feel sick until now.

“It’s okay. I got shot,” Xander began to explain.

Spike’s eyes widened with horror.

“But I’m fine. Don’t worry…”

Spike glared at the bloodstained front of Xander’s shirt. “You got shot in the stomach?!”

Xander nodded. “And my arm. And while we’re on the subject, you couldn’t let up a little, could you? You’re kinda holding on to the entry wound.”

Spike let go of Xander like he’d burned him. He reached forward again and tore the shirt at the shoulder. “A bullet did this?” The wound was tiny and, while Spike was not entirely a gunshot wound expert, he was sure that a bullet would definitely leave a larger hole. Even if Xander’s consort status was lending a helping hand, it would take days to heal a shot from any kind of gun.

Xander nodded and lifted his shirt. “And this.”

Spike silently ran his fingers over the wound, only drawing back when Xander winced slightly. “That hurt?”

“Like a bitch. But not like it should, I’m guessing.”

“Fucking Jesus. You got shot. How the fuck are you still standing?”

“Isis.”

Spike accepted that answer as true and complete and he wasted no more time before he tugged Xander back into his arms. “Fuck.”

“Are you okay?” Xander asked. There seemed to be a thousand things that he wanted to say. He wanted to tell Spike over and over again how much he loved, adored and treasured him. He wanted to tell him that the thought of life without him was worse than any apocalypse. But for once he kept his mouth closed and let his embrace do all the talking.

“’Course. Bullet ridden, but I’ll live. Might need sponge baths for a while, though.”

The apartment shook just barely, but it was enough for Spike and Xander to pull apart and listen. A rumbling noise rose and faded in the distance and suddenly Xander was on his feet and pulling Spike to his.

“Shit. We have to go. I saw flames. Great big flames across the skyline. Something big has happened, Spike. What if it’s Angel and Doyle? Come on. We gotta go. Now.”

With a grimace and an almighty wince Spike allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. The pain from his injuries was immense, but it wouldn’t stop him from standing by his lover’s side. It wouldn’t stop him from finding Doyle and Angel.

It wouldn’t stop him from crucifying whoever was responsible for targeting Xander.

**

The smoke stopped them in their tracks long before the heat would have been able to. It was as though the entire city was on fire and Xander was positive that even if it had been daytime, Spike would have been perfectly safe beneath the thick blanket.

“What…?” Xander felt Spike leaning heavily against him. He suspected that it was partly because of his injuries and partly because, like him, Spike needed the contact.

It was all gone – a city block wiped out in one fell swoop. Along with Angel Investigations.

“You don’t think…?” Xander began again. He couldn’t quite get the words out. They were too painful, way too devastating. Angel and Doyle couldn’t be gone.

“Maybe they went out for…milk. Blood?” Xander suggested. “Captain Crunch? You know, I definitely finished off the last box so…and that would explain the milk, too.” A cool hand took his and squeezed.

“What do we do?” Xander asked, emotion thick in his voice.

Spike stared into the flames. There was only one thing they could do. They couldn’t dive into the flames and look for their bodies. And they couldn’t just assume they were dead. That was unthinkable. But they could seek immediate retribution.

“Come on.” Spike tugged at Xander’s hand.

“Where? Just…where? We don’t even know who did this. Where do we start?”

“The only place we know. Pandemonium.”

“Okay,” Xander said uneasily. “But we didn’t actually find anything there.”

“No, but it’s the only place that we’ve snooped around asking dangerous questions.”

“Lately,” Xander corrected.

“That damn bouncer knows something,” Spike growled through a mouthful of fangs. “Fucking set us up, didn’t he?”

“You don’t seriously expect him to be at the club?”

“’Course.”

“Wouldn’t he be lying low, waiting for the dust to settle?”

“Not if he thinks we’re all dead.”

“Good point. Who do you think he works for?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. We’ll take ‘em all down. Tonight, we slaughter the fucking lot of them.”

Xander wasn’t entirely sure how they were going to manage that. There were three major players to choose from – K’bat, the drug dealer, Isaac, the arms dealer and Sharl, the god knows what. They still didn’t even have an inkling what he was all about.

As with most crime lords and Mafia type bosses, these three were hidden in the shadows, protected by their followers and even their victims. The chance that they could get close enough to even make a rude gesture was remote. And that was being optimistic.

There was also a part of Xander that hoped they wouldn’t get close enough. What chance did the two of them stand against three demon armies? It was all too possible that they’d just lost Doyle and Angel. Would losing each other make that better?

A guilty look crossed Xander’s face.

“What?” Spike asked, looking back at him.

“Nothing.”

“We’ll find them,” Spike reassured, misunderstanding the look.

Xander nodded and wondered which one of them Spike was trying to reassure. Even despite the fangs and the threats, Spike was way too calm. A sudden thought flashed through his brain.

“Can you feel him? Angel? Do you feel him.”

Spike shrugged. “Dunno. Can’t not feel him. I reckon I’d know if he was gone, like I’d know if you were. ‘Course, if you were gone I wouldn’t be here either, would I?”

“Yeah. I’d forgotten about that.”

Spike quirked an eyebrow. “Funny thing to forget about, eh?”

“I guess. Just…I saw the apartment and…”

“Fear kicked in?”

“Yeah. The worst fear. The fact that if you were really dead, dead, I’d be dead by default and I wouldn’t know that you were dead, dead, because I’d be dead didn’t even cross my mind. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, but only to me. Don’t try that explanation on anyone else, though, or you’ll end up in the nuthouse.”

Spike’s tone was light, but Xander could hear the strain underneath. He slipped his arm around Spike’s waist and took some of his weight, receiving a slightly embarrassed half-smile in return.

“We should check on Cordy on the way. I know she hasn’t been involved but, well, you never know.”

**

Angel stopped in front of the club. Something felt wrong – weird. Something that gave him ‘the wiggins’, even through his rage.

It was the quietness, the lack of people and demons on the street. No traffic, no noise. Nothing.

The explosion had been enough to rock the city and scare the population into running as far away as possible. Terrorists? Gang warfare? Alien invasion? It could be any number of things that required the populace to be elsewhere.

But the strange thing? The inside of the club was teeming with demons. Two hundred plus heartbeats hammered away inside. The chattering of the young, the grumbles of the elderly, deep bellows of the large, light, dulcet tones of the small – Angel could hear demons of all kinds crowded behind Pandemonium’s door.

Good. That just meant more demons to terrorise and torture until he got his answers. Angel pulled a blade from his jacket and kicked open the door.

**

“What took you guys so long?!” Cordelia was furious. Her eyes blazed and her nostrils flared with uncontrolled anger.

“I’ve been waiting for you guys for, like, forever!”

“Uh…” Xander started.

“Didn’t you get my message?!”

“No, princess,” Spike said sarcastically. “We were far too busy getting shot, but thanks, I’m sure it was a splendid message. Sing happy birthday to Xan, did you?”

“No, but I did get attacked… wait, you both got shot?” Cordelia finally noticed the rumpled and bloody appearance of her friends. “Oh, god. What happened?”

“We got shot,” Spike repeated impatiently.

“You got attacked?” Xander cut in, elbowing Spike for his rudeness. “What happened?”

Cordelia pointed at the unconscious demon on her carpet. “This ugly thing happened. He tried to skewer me!”

“Looks like you skewered him,” Xander observed as he wrinkled up his nose and stepped away. “Euw, what is that?”

“A chopstick. What?! It was all I could find at short notice! And it was him or me. And my blood would so not go with this outfit.”

“Industrious, Cor. I applaud. Listen, we just came by to check on you. Something’s happened.”

“Like what? Are Angel and Doyle okay? What was that noise outside? What is going on?”

“Nothing, ducks.” Spike took Cordelia’s arm and led her to the couch. What was the point in telling her that Angel Investigations was gone? What was the point in telling her that Angel and Doyle were probably dead? He was sure that he could feel Angel out there somewhere; he’d almost be willing to stake his un-life on it. But Doyle?

“Nothing? So nothing is the reason that you’ve got more holes in you than a really bad X-files plot?”

“Angel upset someone,” Spike started to explain before Cordelia butted in.

“News flash. I also heard today that someone invented the wheel.”

“Look, we just wanted to see if you’re alright, Cordy. Which you are. So you stay here, okay? It isn’t safe outside.” Xander paused and looked down at the body. “We’ll get rid of this for you, and you…”

“Yeah, I heard, stay. You better be paying me for this. I’m supposed to be working a shift.”

“Angel said double time.”

“No, luv. Triple,” Spike corrected Xander.

“Really? Well, in that case, happy to help.”

Cordelia bounced onto the couch and reached for her Cosmo magazine. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Spike and Xander lifted the demon body from each end and began to drag it out. Their movements were slower than usual and held an edge of pain.

“Um, guys? You two are okay, right? All that blood…”

“Totally superficial,” Xander cut in. “Better than it looks. Don’t worry.”

Cordelia nodded, suddenly unsure. “And Angel and Doyle?”

“Are fine. Trust me.” Xander tried a lopsided grin that didn’t quite come off.

Cordelia nodded and went back to her magazine. Something wasn’t quite right…

**

Angel stepped inside the club, prepared to fight and prepared to die. Avenging the death of his family was all that mattered now. No-one dared to cross the mighty Angelus and they would all learn the same of Angel. Just because he had a soul didn’t mean he couldn’t cut a few demons and break a few necks.

Helping the helpless was once all about redemption, making up for a million past sins, but then things had changed. He’d finally found his true happiness in the form of Doyle. Things had been shaky, granted, but he truly loved Doyle and the thought that he was gone cut through him like a poisoned blade. So then redemption had become only about what he did. It was a thing. Like people that swam a lot. It was their thing. It was no longer about trying to dull the painful ache of evil. It was just a thing that he did. Why?

Because he was the vampire that cared.

Angel nearly laughed at himself. Look where that had got him.

His family, gone. Spike – his Childe, Xander and Cordy; he didn’t know for sure that they were dead, but…

Angel looked properly around him. This was not a club full of drinkers and clubbers.

Scattered in large clumps around the club were families of demons. Mothers and their children, fathers with their sons and mothers with daughters and family pets. Grandparents and a strange demon guard rabbit. These weren’t the sorts of demons that he was expecting.

“Angel?”

Angel turned at the sound of the familiar voice. “Gagan.”

Gagan nodded in greeting. “I have something of yours.”

“My entire life?” Angel asked bitterly. “Because that’s exactly what I’m missing.”

“Part of it, perhaps. Follow me.”

Angel trailed along behind the blue demon, unsure of why he was trusting her. Circumstances should have meant that he never trusted again, but instead he just felt numb. His grip was loose on the dagger – unready and careless. Part of him – most of him – just wanted to die.

Without Doyle he was nothing and without Spike as well he was even less. As much as his Childe wound him up on a regular basis, Angel couldn’t bear the thought of being parted from him again. His Childe, his Spike, his son.

Angel briefly thought about asking Gagan about the families in the club or if she knew who’d just destroyed him, but the effort was too great. The memories of his family consumed him and he realised with a dull thud in his gut that, when all was done and their deaths were avenged, it would be the end.

Walking down a dark corridor that smelt faintly of lavender, Angel could just make out two voices. Both male, one definitely demon and similar to Gagan’s with its almost aquatic reverberation. In his head, Angel could hear Doyle. A memory sprang into his head – Doyle and Xander talking as they descended in the elevator at Angel Investigations. Doyle was consoling and soothing; he’d always had the perfect voice for that, his smooth Irish accent relaxing you into a gentle haze. The world’s problems seemed to vanish every time he spoke.

“Angel? Angel, man, I… You’re alive. I can’t believe…”

Angel found himself staring straight into Doyle’s red rimmed eyes.

“Doyle?” He was frozen in place, hardly daring to believe what he was seeing. Doyle was here? At Pandemonium? “How…?”

“Gagan phoned, just after you left.”

Angel tried to take in what he was hearing, but he was scared. It was almost as though if he moved or spoke too fast Doyle would disappear in puff of smoke. “I thought…”

Doyle rolled his eyes and smiled despite the fact that his heart was nearly ripped in two. “Fuck this, man. I gotta touch you.”

Angel opened his arms and closed his eyes as Doyle rushed into his embrace. He gripped him tightly and vowed to never forget how this moment felt, to never forget how much he loved and adored this man.

“Doyle, if I never ever tell you again, I love you more than any other. I can’t ever lose you.”

Doyle smiled into Angel’s shoulder and looked up. Gripping Angel’s face in his hands, he brought his lover’s face down for a tender kiss. As their lips touched, Doyle wondered if everyone felt the same spark that he felt every time they kissed their lover. It was electric, a perfect moment in time that literally blocked out everything else and turned the world into a universe of only two.

It must have been an eon before Doyle managed to open his eyes. “I love you.”

Angel brought him close and squeezed him again. “The others?” he asked. “Where are they?”

Doyle shook his head. “We haven’t been able to contact them. Not yet.”

Angel nodded and pulled back. They had to be alive. They had to be alive.

“I’m gonna try Cordelia again, though. Her phone was engaged last time.”

Angel didn’t answer, couldn’t allow himself to hope. He turned to Gagan instead. “I think you’d better tell me what’s going on. Quick version.”

Gagan nodded and opened her mouth to speak.

“You must be Angel,” a deep voice interrupted.

Angel neither confirmed nor denied. “And you are?”

“Sharl.”

Angel’s eyes widened at the admission. He gripped the knife tighter in his hand and stalked towards the demon. “You’re responsible for this?”

Sharl raised his tentacles in defence. “I’d like to think not.”

Angel stopped and looked the demon up and down. “You’re the barman, right?”

The demon nodded. “Yes. I own Pandemonium. Gagan, here, is my daughter.”

“So much for helping us,” Doyle spat, glaring at both Gagan and her father.

“You have a short memory, crossbreed,” Gagan spat back. “I saved you, did I not?”

“Yeah, maybe you did. But I’m getting the feeling that it was for a reason.”

Angel paced to the other side of the room. It was better to be further away from anyone that he had the urge to put through a wall. “Explain. Now.”

“I am Sharl,” the demon started. “I control the area surrounding Pandemonium. I provide a relatively safe haven for those that do not wish to be under the control of a dictatorship.”

“Meaning?” Doyle asked.

“K’bat and Isaac. They run drugs, deal in arms, control the neighbourhoods through fear and violence.”

“And just how do you provide such a safe haven?” Angel wasn’t sure this was the time to be laughing, but the demon had come up with an amusing notion.

Sharl shrugged. “Through a name.”

“Pandemonium?”

“No. Sharl. I have built a reputation. Under the cloak of night I have snatched their drugs and beaten the persecutors. I have blown up their weapons and uncovered their Fight Clubs. This I do through the name of Sharl.”

“Not your real name, I’m guessing,” Doyle put in.

Sharl shook his head.

“So, you’re a vigilante?” Angel asked.

“To some. A hero to others, even though none have seen my face. But to them, to K’bat and Isaac, I am a rival. They think I steal their drugs for my own gain. They think I destroy their guns to improve my own position. I am sheathed in darkness and they fear my name alone.”

“And the reason they’re trying to kill me and my family?”

“You have been unfortunate enough to approach at a time of great unrest and suspicion. K’bat and Isaac are at odds over territory and broken promises. They did not appreciate you and your family asking questions. This was inevitable.”

Doyle glared at Gagan. “Thanks for letting us know,” he said sarcastically.

“We do not normally get involved with outsiders,” Sharl continued before his daughter could speak. “We do what we can to protect our own. It is all we can do. But Gagan convinced me to help you. We got word of the hit and called your office. There was nothing else we could do before K’bat’s people struck.”

Angel fixed the demon with an expressionless stare. He wasn’t sure what to believe. There was one thing for certain: K’bat had ordered the hits and Gagan’s phone call had saved Doyle. But surely if Sharl was powerful enough to inflict fear on K’bat and Isaac, he would have been powerful enough to stop what had happened altogether.

“I do not hold power,” Sharl suddenly said, guessing Angel’s thoughts. “I merely hold the illusion of it. There are no drugs and guns here because this is Sharl’s territory. This fear of the unknown keeps them away. Angel, I am no champion; I simply want peace for my family and friends.”

“What about the bouncer?” Doyle asked, saving Angel the trouble of thinking of a response. His lover was clearly swinging somewhere between fury and thankfulness.

“Ah, yes. Breeta,” Gagan mused. “We had always been suspicious of him. But you know what they say about keeping your enemies close.”

“No, really?” said a voice from the doorway. “I always say keep your friends close and your enemies dead.”

Relief washed over Angel like a great tidal wave. It cleared his head and made him feel like stumbling to a corner to sit with his head between his legs. “Spike,” he breathed.

“Yeah, it’s mostly Spike,” Xander pointed out. “But I think some of him is missing.”

“You’re covered in holes,” Doyle observed. “Get shot?” Joking was sometimes easier. Especially when the other option was to fling your arms around a vampire you didn’t even know that well. Xander, he knew. Spike? The opportunity had never presented itself.

“You’re funny,” Spike said dryly.

But Xander wasn’t going to put up with the cool greeting. He made his way over to Doyle and Angel and put his arms around them both. He laid his head on Angel’s shoulder and just rested. He smiled to himself as he felt warm and cool arms sliding around him.

“So, everyone’s alive, then?” Spike called over. He was still lounging by the doorjamb, to all appearances looking like he could care less.

Xander turned in the mass of arms and smiled. “You wanna come join the group hug?”

“Mind if I don’t? Sappy lot, you are.”

Angel untangled himself from Xander and Doyle and made his way over to Spike. “Childe,” he whispered once he was close. He brought his hands up to rest on Spike’s shoulders before bringing them up further to cup his Childe’s face and kiss his forehead.

“I’m alright,” Spike protested, although not very vehemently. “You alright?” he asked, too casually.

“I am now. Now you’re all here.” Angel allowed himself to close his eyes just for a second; just a second to be thankful before he moved on to business. He suddenly remembered something. “Cordy!!”

It was Xander who answered. “Oh, she’s fine. We already looked in on her.”

“She’s not hurt?” Angel asked.

“Nope. But the demon that tried to kill her learned the hard way how chopsticks should never be used.”

There was no reason why Angel should have gotten the joke. Instead, he stared at the front of Xander’s shirt. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, mostly.”

“You were shot?”

Spike rolled his eyes at that.

Xander just nodded.

Angel let go of Spike and approached Xander. The front of Xander’s shirt was covered in blood, and there was a big tear that signalled where the bullets had gone in.

“Just aches,” Xander explained. He wondered why he suddenly felt nervous. “Feels like someone kicked me.”

Angel lifted the shirt and squatted down to get a closer look. Sure enough, there were two holes just big enough to be entrance wounds for a pair of bullets. They were partially healed, but were still seeping watery blood.

“We should get that cleaned up,” Angel said as he stood. “Do you need anything, Xander? Painkillers?”

“Actually, an aspirin or five would be great. Kinda got a headache.”

“I’m not surprised,” Angel said, not unkindly. He looked at Xander with affection and gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Oi! What about me?!” Spike cried. “I got shot, too, you know! I might like an aspirin. Look at me! I’m covered with holes. He’s only got two!”

The protest was blatant, a ploy to get the focus off Xander and onto himself. The weirdness that was Xander’s brush with death was something that needed to be looked at and explored. Was this an unexpected benefit of being a consort, or was it an Isis thing? Perhaps it was a bit of both. But it wasn’t something for discussion now.

Gagan smiled kindly at Xander and excused herself, promising to be back with aspirin or some such painkiller. While she was gone, Sharl motioned for everybody to sit.

“What’s going on with all the demons?” Xander asked, motioning his head towards the main area of the club. “Looks like they’re either camping out to get Sting tickets or there’s trouble afoot. I’m going with trouble afoot.”

“Because there’s always trouble afoot,” Doyle agreed, keeping one eye on Xander to make sure he didn’t fall instead of sit.

“No, because Sting isn’t touring until next year. And even that’s a rumour.”

Sharl nodded. It may be a rumour but it was hinted at on his official site. “The death of Breeta reached K’bat faster than anticipated.”

“The bouncer’s dead, eh?” Spike said in a surprised tone. “What a damn shame. How’d that happen, then?”

“I suggest you ask Angel, here.”

Everybody slowly turned to look at Angel.

“You didn’t, man?” Doyle shook his head. “Blimey O’Reilly,” he muttered.

Angel coughed, a touch embarrassed. “I didn’t exactly have much of a choice.”

“So I heard,” Sharl replied. There was no hint of sarcasm in his voice. “The details were sketchy. All K’bat knew was that Breeta was dead, his throat sliced open and his body left callously in an alley. The fool thought it was Isaac’s doing.”

“Not liking where this is going,” Xander whispered to Spike. Spike nodded back.

“K’bat immediately ordered a mass killing of Isaac’s people. There has been nothing but slaughter since. Innocent families have been caught in the crossfire. That is why so many of them are here. They seek refuge.”

Doyle looked confused. “Wasn’t there anyone to stop them? Surely even the police would have noticed.”

Sharl chuckled, albeit bitterly. “With a city block on fire at the same time? Please. Humans before demons. It’s the way it’s always been.”

“Why is it so quiet now?” Angel asked. “There was no-one outside.”

“Good point, Peaches. Weren’t no bugger about when me and Xan passed though.”

“Is everyone hiding?” Xander asked.

“Some are,” Sharl replied. “While some have retreated, ready to gather and strike, some have simply hidden under their beds. Some managed to get here. K’bat’s people struck so fast – no-one had any idea that it was coming. We were unprepared for the fall-out.”

“Is it safe here? For all those people, I mean.” The club was full of children. If K’bat or Isaac struck now, there would be nowhere for them to hide – nowhere for them to go. It struck Xander that it was risky to keep everybody here.

“There is nowhere safe.”

“Sure there is,” Xander argued. “Well, safer. We should lead them underground.”

“Underground?”

“Yeah, like in War of the Worlds. Underground – a brave new world.” Xander cleared his throat when everybody stared at him. “Or maybe just hiding out in the sewers is better than sitting in a known club, on known gangster territory, waiting for everybody to get their heads blown off.”

“My boy’s got a point.”

Xander grinned. “I do sometimes.”

“And in the meantime?” Gagan handed Xander a glass of water and two pills. “How long are our people supposed to hide in the muck?”

“Until we kill Isaac and K’bat.” Angel stood decisively. “Do you have any weapons here? Swords?” he asked Sharl.

“Yes, in the basement. You’re honestly thinking about taking them on? Alone?”

“They’re only two demons.”

“Yup, and like a house of cards, if you take one out the whole thing collapses. Uh – unless you take the top card…whoops, bad analogy. Forget me. I’ll be over here.” Xander ducked his head and tried to hide his sudden embarrassment. He really was useless at times, he thought.

Angel ignored Xander’s speech and instead stared intently at Sharl. “They’re flesh and bone. They’ll hack to pieces like any other demon.”

Xander raised his hand. “Except the Judge. We kinda had to blow him up. And then there was Acathla…okay, shutting up now.”

“Can you tell us where we can find them? Right now?” Angel asked.

“Of course.”

“Xander? Will you lead the people down the sewers? Hide them until this is over?”

“Me? Really? Okay, sure, I can do that. No problemo.”

“Spike?” Angel studied his Childe closely. He was by no means operating on full thrusters – and when did he start thinking in Xander and Doyle terms? – but he was fit enough to fight, and fight well.

“I’m in,” Spike said before Angel could say anything else.

“What about me?” Doyle asked.

Angel was tempted to ask him to accompany Xander into the sewers, but he knew it would be lame. Doyle would see right through it. Xander was perfectly capable of navigating the tunnels below and, honestly, he was the best man for the job. Angel wasn’t sure where Xander had gotten such an in-depth knowledge of LA’s sewer system, but he was certainly grateful for it now.

It was just so tempting to try to hide Doyle away from what was to come – protect him from harm and keep him safe with Xander. But one look at Doyle’s face told him that his lover was currently reading his mind and wasn’t going to be pleased at that outcome.

“Well?” Doyle asked again.

“Make sure your sword isn’t too heavy. Light, but sharp; that’s all you need.”

Doyle smiled back his thanks.

**

The tunnels were dark and gloomy, seemingly blacker to Xander than usual. He suspected it was more due to his fear that he was alone in this than the tunnels actually being especially dark.

Xander Harris, former screw-up, was in charge of keeping safe in excess of thirty demons. Children, their mothers, fathers and grandparents - these were not the types of demons that waged a war or killed to defend territory. They were just people.

The more headstrong and determined had joined Spike, Angel and Doyle in their quest to find K’Bat and Isaac, and Xander was left with the rest. Families that just wanted ordinary lives, free from fear and persecution.

“Are you lost?” asked a small voice from the vicinity of Xander’s kneecaps.

“Uh – nope.” Xander looked down to the demon child at his side. “Not lost.”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely. I know all these tunnels like the back of my hand. I’m totally unlost.”

“But the tunnels all look the same. Pappy says you’re lost.”

“I’m not lost,” Xander repeated patiently.

“Then why are we moving so slowly?”

“One – We kinda have some old folks here. Two – I need to make sure I don’t take a wrong turn. And three – We’re not actually moving that slowly.”

The little girl pondered on this. “Why would you take a wrong turn? I thought you said you knew the tunnels?”

“I do. They just all look the same.”

“But I already said that.”

“Meesha!” hissed a female voice. “Don’t bother the man.”

Xander turned and caught a glimpse of a bright pink arm dragging the bright pink little demon girl away from him.

“Sorry,” the girl’s mother apologised.

“Hey, it’s okay. I can walk and talk. Multi-tasking is my middle name.” Xander smiled in reassurance. These people were way beyond scared. The tunnels echoed with clattering, phantom footsteps and noises from above that twisted in the dark and turned into paranoid delusions.

“Where are we going?” asked another voice. This one was growly, but not in an aggressive way. More like a growly cuddle bear sort of way.

“These tunnels have a lot of rooms,” Xander explained. “You know, like storerooms and electrical rooms, that sort of thing. Some of them are real big.”

The crowd whispered and murmured about humans and discovery.

“Some of the rooms are abandoned. Humans won’t find us.” Xander silently crossed his fingers that they wouldn’t find the humans. A pack of crack junkies would be really bad timing.

“What was that?!” The anonymous voice caused a ripple of turning heads, the demons looking in all direction for whatever that was.

“Come on, guys,” Xander tried. When he was ignored, it looked like Xander would need to raise his voice. He didn’t want to take the risk, but it didn’t look like his not-so-captive audience was giving him a choice. “GUYS!”

When the demons quietened they all turned to him and waited for his advice.

“That was just the pipes creaking. It was nothing. These tunnels are old; there’s bound to be some major creakage now and again.” As if on cue the pipes creaked a second time. “And again. See?”

Thirty faces stared silently at him, wanting to believe they were safe but not quite able grasp it. Maybe that was because they weren’t. How could they be? If Angel and the gang failed, what would become of all these families then? What would K’Bat and Isaac do to the family of a rebel?

“Let’s just keep going.” There wasn’t much else to say. Xander walked on ahead and smiled slightly as he heard the demons shuffling along behind him. Whacky padded away and went to take up the rear guard again. When they’d stopped he had made his way to his Master’s side, just in case he needed some moral support, or in case he had some sort of beef treat to offer.

Xander continued for what seemed like hours and eventually stopped at a junction that split off in two directions. From the plans Xander had studied he remembered that both ways would eventually lead to the same room that he was heading for, but the left tunnel took a little longer. It made sense to take the right. That, and the fact that the left tunnel also seemed contain a giant, black, snarling, savage dog-beast.

“Ummm. Guys?” he called back over his shoulder. “Anyone lose their family dog?”

Xander turned back to the creature and fake-grinned as widely as humanly possible. “Nice doggy?”

**

Angel glanced around the warehouse. Every inch of available floor space was covered in bodies.

“Someone’s been busy,” Spike remarked.

“Isaac did this.” A completely naked and bald Turoke demon called Bishall nodded to himself. “I know some of these people. I worked with them.”

Bishall had once worked for K’bat. For six months he’d fallen deeply into a web of crime under the wing of the tyrant. When he’d finally had enough, when he’d witnessed the needless deaths of countless innocents, he’d backed out and gone underground. Through fear of repercussion he hadn’t shown his face for three months.

Until today.

Cowering among the many at Pandemonium, Bishall had stood with the others that offered to help take out the two gang bosses. Their families had descended into the sewers with the boy to hide and ensure they were safe, while they were prepared to fight and die to keep them that way.

“Don’t suppose any of them are K’bat himself?” Doyle asked.

Bishall barked out orders in a demon language. The others behind him - twenty demons that were prepared to suffer no more - nodded and spread out around the warehouse.

“So, this is Gangsters’ Paradise, is it?” Spike leant against a pillar and dug his cigarettes out of his pocket. “Bloody dump, if you ask me.”

“No-one’s asking you,” Angel snapped. “What’s going on over there?”

Some of the demons had grouped in the far corner.

“Have you found something?” Angel paused. “Someone?”

One of the demons turned and nodded and as Angel, Doyle and Spike approached, they fanned out to let them see a very, very dead body.

“Who’s this git, then?”

“That is Isaac,” boomed a voiced from behind them.

As the demon approached with what appeared to be a small army, Doyle wasn’t sure he should ask. He did anyway. “And who might you be?”

“K’bat.”

**

Xander hung on to the creature’s neck and tried in vain to snap it and avoid the extremely sharp claws at the same time. He’d managed, with Whacky’s help, to pull the creature further into the left tunnel and had shouted for the others to take the right passage and run. Now he was left with one really pissed off mother of a demon canine that just wasn’t going to drop.

A giant paw came down and pressed on Xander’s chest for leverage. The claws unsheathed and Xander couldn’t help the cry of pain as they dug into his skin.

Whacky ran around and around them, barking and biting, but the creature simply batted him away or shrugged him off. Weirdly, even Whacky with his giant size looked like a tiddly puppy in comparison.

As the creature’s other paw raised in the air, Xander suddenly realised he was about to lose his face. He let go of the huge, hairy neck and twisted his trapped body away as far as he could, shielding his head with his arms. But instead of the pain of tearing and splitting flesh, Xander felt a mildly pleasant fan of air as the clawed paw whisked passed him. It missed by only an inch as the creature became suddenly distracted by a much larger concern than the human trapped beneath him. The concern was a set of razor sharp teeth clamped around his testicles.

Ouchie.

If Whacky could have grinned without dropping the commandeered happy sacs, he certainly would have. Damn, no-good demon dog. How dare it attack his master?! Well, let’s just hear the big bad doggy scream like a girly girl.

Whacky bit down harder, shook, and pulled at the same time. The scream was delightful.

Xander had spent quite some time training with both Spike and Angel. He’d learned many hard, painful lessons from them both. One of those things was never to hesitate, ever, especially when your life or other’s were at stake. Another of those lessons was to kill something properly. Life was often like a scary movie – and not the comedy version. You either cut off the head or die when you walk away feeling cocky and your enemy has gotten up and clobbered you with an axe.

For instance, it’s your life, or your enemy’s. You have a gun. He doesn’t. He will kill you if he can. You get off a fairly good shot with the one bullet you have left and your enemy drops. What do you do? You would shoot him again just to be sure, but no more bullets.

What do you do?

Turn the gun around and bash his fucking brains out with the other end, that’s what you do.

As soon as the creature thrashed away from him, Xander reacted. He rolled clear and made a quick dash back to the other tunnel to get the sword he’d dropped earlier. He turned, waited a moment for the creature to throw its head back in agony from another Whacky-shake, and struck.

Xander slammed himself forwards, raising the sword and bringing it down in line with the demon’s neck. A small stumble on the slippery sewer floor caused Xander to falter and the sword changed direction slightly and embedded in the creature’s shoulder.

The demon howled in agony and Xander cursed himself for being so stupid. This may be his enemy and he wasn’t going to hesitate and he was going to kill it, but that didn’t mean that he had to cause it unnecessary pain.

Whacky didn’t really give a shit.

Tail wagging, he snapped at the testicles and got an even better grip that stopped the demon dog from flailing and gave Xander a much better angle for a half-decent beheading.

Xander raised the sword and this time sliced it through the demon’s neck. It stuck halfway, caught on bone, so Xander pulled out the sword and, with a better idea of how tough this neck was, dealt a blow that took the head clean off.

“Wow. That was…unpleasant. Especially for him. Where’s a lightning strike when you need one, huh? Damn, no good powers.”

Whacky opened his mouth and gagged before trotting over to his master and checking that he was okay. A small amount of bleeding could be smelled, but nothing serious.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Xander absently petted Whacky’s head. “Come on, let’s get going. We gotta get those people to safety, then we can rest and find you a toilet bowl to drink out of.”

**

The fight was long and hard, and Angel was at a definite disadvantage. K’bat’s people outnumbered them two to one, plus many of them were extremely good fighters. Angel’s recruits were mostly just people, just demons that had no inclination to fight or learn how. And here they were thrown straight into the line of fire. Several of them died almost instantly, the weak, picked off by K’bat’s men.

But there was one thing that Angel had on his side that K’bat didn’t.

Family and a lust for retribution.

He’d nearly lost them all today. Xander, Spike, Cordy, Doyle -- he’d come so close to being without them. If that had happened then his life would have been made worthless. And that wasn’t something he’d felt in a long time. Not since the gypsy girl and his soul.

And now his family were alive and Angel intended to keep them that way. He sliced and diced his way through countless minion demons, fighting to get closer to where K’bat watched with pleasure.

Angel killed K’bat’s people without even a thought, barely noticing their bodies fall as he kept one eye on Doyle, one on Spike and one on K’bat. And with only two eyes in his possession, that was quite a feat.

The anger built inside him as he glimpsed the smirk plastered over K’bat’s face. Well, he’d slice that smile right off just as soon as he reached him.

Angel remembered the moment of the explosion, the sky lighting up in a great cloud of flame as Angel Investigations was blown into a trillion pieces. He didn’t care for his possessions, for the books that he’d owned for a century, the art he’d collected or the wing-back chair that he’d once adored. All he cared for was his family. And at that moment, with the thought that Doyle was gone, and maybe Spike, Xander and Cordelia too, his world had turned to darkness. Angelus had screamed inside just as he screamed now, screamed that Spike was not in sight.

Angel gutted another demon and stopped. He looked frantically around for his Childe, but Spike was nowhere to be seen. “Doyle!” he shouted as his lover threw down a demon and impaled him with his sword.

“Angel?”

“Have you seen Spike?!”

Doyle looked around him and then stopped. “You mean that Spike?” He pointed at K’bat. No, behind