His Tender Mercies by Enigmaticblue

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Chapters 12 & 13

Chapter 12: Dreams That Speak

Lindsay finally found what he was looking for in the file on Angelus. It appeared that the vampire had become obsessed with a young innocent named Drusilla, and that she had a very special gift.

A very special gift indeed.

Lindsay was kicking himself for not having seen it before. They didn't need to find a way to use Drusilla to get to Angel. They just needed Drusilla. Her visions, especially those that had to do with important future events could be invaluable to the firm, which is exactly what he told Holland Manners. The fact that Holland was thrilled with the news caused Lilah's scowl to deepen even further.

"Excellent work, Lindsay," Holland congratulated him. "That's probably the reason Angel has been able to remain one step ahead of us. With Drusilla in our possession, we will have access to valuable information."

"We don't know that she'll work for us," Lilah objected. "She could decide to remain obstinate. And she's crazy. We'll have to take care of her. Personally, I think it would be a drain on Wolfram and Hart's resources."

Lindsay gave her a smug smile. "That's why it's not just Drusilla we need. The records indicate that William the Bloody was with her for over a hundred years. He took care of her, and apparently he understood her visions even when no one else did. We could still easily retrieve him from Sunnydale, just as we'd planned."

"Very well thought out," Holland stated. "If you're correct, this William the Bloody will do anything in order to protect Drusilla, and if he's incapable of harming humans, we shouldn't have a difficult time controlling him."

Lilah didn't like the sound of things. It appeared as though Lindsay had come up with the perfect plan to get himself back in favor, something that she didn't want to have happen. In fact, the worse Lindsay looked, the better Lilah would appear in contrast.

Holland continued. "Lilah, I want you to collect Drusilla. Lindsay, you can get Spike, just as we discussed. You'll have to work around the Slayer, of course, but I'm sure an intelligent young man such as yourself will come up with a plan."

Lindsay gave his co-worker a smug grin. "Oh, I'm sure."

~~~~~

Wesley and Drusilla were headed back towards his apartment. He'd decided that he didn't mind sharing space with the woman and had said as much to Angel. Wesley wasn't certain that he was looking forward to the time when she would be living elsewhere.

He found her intriguing. It was a pale word compared to his growing feelings. Drusilla was beautiful, of course, but more than that she drew him with her strength. For someone to have gone through as much as she had-to be tortured by Angelus, to lose all her family, to be a vampire for so long, only to be killed and brought back as human-Wesley was as much in love with her strength as her beauty.

Her hand was tucked through his arm, and Wesley was pleased with the contact, however chaste. "I miss my sisters," Drusilla suddenly said out of the blue.

Wesley frowned, trying to figure out where that had come from. "Your sisters?"

"We used to walk together like this," she explained quietly. "I looked after them, you know."

Wesley patted her hand comfortingly, unable to think of anything else to do. "I'm so very sorry."

"Why?" Dru asked. "It wasn't your fault."

"No," Wesley agreed. "But still, I hadn't even thought of how difficult it must be for you to be alone without your family."

Dru pressed herself closer to him. "It isn't so bad. I still have friends."

Wesley's mouth went dry, feeling her so close to him. "Yes," he said, clearing his throat and wishing he could think of something a little better to say. "You do have friends."

She was about to reply when her eyes widened. "Wesley-" Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the quiet thunk of a tranquilizer dart. Wesley caught her body as she fell unconscious, realizing that they were under attack.

He had come a long way from his days in Sunnydale, when he probably would have screamed and ran. Wesley did nothing of the sort, instead scooping up the unconscious woman and bolting for the nearest alley.

There was the sound of another dart hitting the wall behind him and shouts from their pursuers. It would not be possible for him to run nearly as far or as fast with Drusilla weighing him down. The only choice was to outwit them.

And Wesley prided himself on being able to outwit just about anyone.

~~~~~

Joyce came through the door in a whirlwind of motion. "Buffy? Are you home?"

"In the living room, Mom," Buffy called back.

"Would you mind giving me a hand, honey? I went grocery shopping on my way home, and-" Joyce was interrupted by Spike, who seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Can I get those?"

"Oh, thank you, Spike," Joyce replied, allowing him to take a couple of the bags. "I thought I could carry them all inside."

Buffy, who had been just a little slower in getting up, frowned. She felt like Spike kept showing her up with her mom. Almost like he was playing the good kid just to make her look bad.

Or, she reminded herself, he just had a soft spot for her mother.

Buffy grabbed one of the remaining bags from Joyce's arms and carried it into the kitchen. "Are you making dinner tonight, Mom?"

"I thought I might," Joyce replied. "Especially since we have a guest."

Buffy very nearly told her mom that Spike wasn't a guest before she caught herself. She really did need to try and be nicer to the vampire, especially in her mother's presence. "Spike doesn't eat people food."

"Sure I do," Spike said. "I just don't need it like you do."

Joyce shot her daughter a look that plainly said to be nice. Which made Buffy a little angry, since she thought she was being nice. "Well, I think it would be nice if Spike could eat with us. I don't get a chance to have company very often."

Buffy bit back an exasperated sigh. "I think I might do a quick patrol then, since it's probably going to be a while."

"Alright, honey," Joyce replied. "Dinner should be ready in about an hour and a half." She watched as her daughter left. "How are you, Spike?"

Spike looked up, surprised at being asked. "I'm alright," he replied. "I, uh-" He hesitated, unused to being polite. "Thanks. For lettin' me stay."

"It's my pleasure," Joyce replied warmly.

Spike fell silent, watching as Joyce finished putting her groceries away and started making dinner. He'd promised Dru that he'd try to make the woman listen about being sick, but he had no idea where to start. "How are you, Joyce?" he asked, hoping that something she said would allow him to broach the subject.

"Oh, I'm fine." She went about her business, and Spike bit back a sigh. He had no idea what to do now. "Well, I've been having these headaches lately," Joyce admitted, almost as an afterthought. "I'm sure they're nothing."

Spike knew this was his chance. "Maybe you should get that checked out."

Joyce shrugged. "The doctors will probably just tell me I'm being silly."

"Dru said she could see you were sick," Spike replied. "I know it sounds far-fetched, but she's not usually wrong 'bout things like this."

Joyce was still not quite used to the supernatural. She'd been unaware for years, and then she'd convinced herself that the things she saw weren't really there. Looking back, Joyce knew how deeply denial had become entrenched in her reactions. She could see Spike's real concern for her, and thought perhaps she might try listening to him. "I'll make an appointment with the doctor."

Spike nodded, glad that duty had been discharged at least. "Good. That's good."

Joyce paused to smile at him warmly. "Thank you, Spike."

"For what?"

"For being concerned."

Spike couldn't help but feel a warm glow at her words.

~~~~~

When Buffy returned from patrol, it was late, and she was tired. Compared to the past few nights, the graveyards had been hopping. The Slayer was getting just a little tired of the whole thing. If it wasn't vampires, it was demons. And if it wasn't demons, it was something else just as nasty.

The house was silent as she entered, and Buffy found a note from her mom on the kitchen counter, letting her know that she'd set aside a plate for her and it was in the fridge. She stuck the plate in the microwave. As Faith had often commented, slaying always made her hungry and horny. Thankfully she could satisfy her hunger at least.

"Talked to your mum tonight."

Spike's voice seemed to come out of nowhere, causing Buffy to start. "Geez, Spike, make a little noise or something."

He grinned at her in the dim light of the kitchen. Buffy could smell cigarette smoke, and guessed that he'd been out on the back porch. "Jumpy tonight?"

"No," Buffy replied. "You just came out of nowhere."

"Which made you jump," he pointed out relentlessly.

Buffy decided to do what she did best when confronted by that kind of logic: change the subject. "What do you mean you talked to Mom tonight?"

Spike lifted an eyebrow, indicating that he knew exactly what she was doing. "About what Dru said. She's been havin' headaches, an' she said she'd go to the doctor."

Buffy wasn't sure whether or not she should be pleased. On the one hand, if Drusilla was right, then it was a good thing her mom was going to see the doctor. On the other hand, Buffy really didn't want the ex-vampire to be right. "Well, that's good," she finally replied lamely, pulling her plate out of the microwave. "Just in case."

There was a long pause as Spike watched her eat. Buffy didn't know what to say, so she ended up settling for uncomfortable silence. It went on for a while, longer than Buffy cared for, that was for certain. Buffy was afraid she'd say something she'd regret if she opened her mouth.

"'m goin' to watch the telly," Spike abruptly announced, turning to leave the kitchen.

Buffy watched him go, debating whether or not to join him. She wasn't quite ready for bed yet, and it would be nice to have company for a while. After putting her dishes in the dishwasher, she went out into the living room, sitting down next to Spike on the couch, although they weren't touching.

Spike glanced over at her once while idly flipping through the channels. "Wait," Buffy said. "That looks good."

It was a rerun of Friends , and after a moment's hesitation, Spike put the remote down. They watched the program without comment, Spike stealing occasional glimpses at the Slayer. Wondering how far she'd let him get, Spike stretched, letting his arm rest along the back of the couch so that his forearm was just behind her head.

Buffy, knowing exactly what he was doing, decided she didn't care. In fact, she was beginning to wonder how far Spike would try to push it. When he made no more moves in her direction, Buffy decided to up the ante slightly, shifting her position on the couch as though trying to get comfortable, and ending up just a few inches closer.

Spike sat frozen, hardly able to believe his luck when Buffy moved just a little closer. After a brief moment of indecision he moved his arm so that his hand was right behind her head-and then he started playing with her hair.

Buffy knew she shouldn't be enjoying this at all. She shouldn't even be sitting here. By all rights, she should have ordered Spike to stay in the basement or something, but no. Here she was, sitting on the couch next to a vampire, and very much enjoying the feeling of his hand in her hair.

She missed being touched like that.

Spike, who was getting braver with every passing second that she didn't punch him, started caressing her neck, his thumb rubbing small circles. Her sigh of pleasure was encouragement enough to continue, and he started massaging her neck in earnest.

"Don't stop," Buffy murmured, relishing the sensation. "Please."

"I'll keep it up as long as you want," Spike replied, deliberately using the double entendre.

Buffy decided to let the comment slide since she was enjoying his hands so much. "Good. Then you can do it forever."

Spike paused for a moment, wondering if she realized that forever was a very real possibility for him. "Can think of other things we could do too, Buffy."

She stiffened. "I can't, Spike."

He kept going, pressing harder into tight muscles, forcing her to relax. "Right. Evil vampire, I get it."

"Do you ever wish things were different?" Buffy asked softly, not even believing that she was talking to Spike like this. Like he was a friend-or more than a friend.

"Sometimes," he confessed, his own voice equally low-intimate. "Not often, though."

Buffy leaned back into his touch. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"I know."

"It's completely wrong."

"Absolutely."

"And even if we did do something, it would just be physical, you know. I mean, it couldn't ever be more than that for either of us."

"Of course not."

"Except of course if we were friends, and then it would just be like-like-" Buffy couldn't find an appropriate analogy to use. What did you call it if you weren't really friends but you slept together? Because she was already thinking about how good Spike's hands were going to feel somewhere else.

"Friends with benefits?" he suggested.

Buffy considered. "Well, allies with benefits, anyway."

"Are we actually havin' this conversation?" Spike asked with some amusement.

"No," Buffy replied. "Okay, yes, we're having this conversation, but it's just hypothetical."

"We could test that theory," Spike suggested.

The Slayer groaned slightly. "We could, except that my mom is here, so no."

"When this is all over then," Spike said quietly.

"Maybe," Buffy replied, turning to face him. "I don't know. It's probably stupid to even think about it."

"Probably," Spike whispered-and then kissed her.

All of Buffy's doubts about the wisdom of embarking on another relationship with a vampire evaporated at the feel of his lips. Not that they weren't still valid concerns, but suddenly kissing said vampire just seemed so much more important.

~~~~~

It had been sheer luck that got Wesley to the motel in one piece without being seen. He had managed to evade his pursuers, even with Drusilla as a burden. At one point in the nightmarish trip, Wesley had realized that if he went back towards Cordelia's apartment, as Wolfram and Hart most likely expected, he would probably run into trouble. It would be a better idea to find a spot to hole up for a while, at least until he could be assured of leaving safely.

After settling Drusilla on the single bed, he quickly dialed Cordy's number. "Hello?" came the sleepy response.

"Cordelia?"

"Who else would it be at-" There was a slight pause. "-two in the morning? And why are you calling at two in the morning, anyway?"

"We were attacked on the way home," Wesley replied.

Her tone sharpened. "Are you alright? Is Dru-"

"Here with me," Wesley replied. "I managed to evade them, but Drusilla was hit by some kind of tranquilizer dart and hasn't woken yet."

Wesley could hear a hissed conversation and suddenly it was Angel's voice on the other end. "Are you safe?"

"For now," Wesley replied. "I don't think we were followed."

Angel let out a breath. "Good. Stay where you are and look after Dru. I'm going to do what I can to figure out what's going on."

"Angel, be careful," Wesley warned.

"You too," Angel replied. "I'm counting on you to take care of her, Wes."

Wesley heard the click on the other end and put the handset down. He stood next to the bed, hesitating. There really wasn't a choice for sleeping arrangements other than the floor. With a deep sigh, he toed off his shoes and lay down next to the unconscious woman. After a moment of indecision, Wesley took Drusilla's hand in his own, hoping his touch would comfort her as she began to awaken.

And even though he didn't mean to, Wesley soon drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 13: Spoils to the Victor

When Drusilla began to awaken, it was to the feel of a warm body pressed close to hers, her hand enfolded in a larger one. Even though she felt a little too warm from the contact, Dru found herself relishing the sensations. She recognized Wesley's unique scent of soap and cologne, an earthy, masculine smell that sent a bolt of desire to the core of her being.

Drusilla might be a good girl, but that didn't mean she was dead. At least, not anymore.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she turned her head to see Wesley's face on the pillow next to her. Unsure of what her next move might be, Drusilla stayed still. After a few minutes, Wesley began to stir, his eyes widening when he saw her. "Drusilla," he pulled back quickly. "Forgive me, I-"

"You what?" Her voice was still husky from sleep and the drugs that had been in the dart.

Wesley swallowed convulsively. "I, uh, I had to, uh, get a single room," he said quietly. "I hope you don't mind sharing a bed."

A wicked smile crossed Drusilla's face. "I suppose it will be alright. Are you planning on keeping your hands to yourself?"

The flush creeping into Wesley's cheeks pleased her to no end. "Of course," he assured her. "I would never-"

Her widening grin cut off his words. "Because I'm not certain that's such a good plan."

"Drusilla!" Wesley exclaimed. He was unsure what to do with this rather assertive woman. He wondered if she'd always been like this or if something had changed in the last 24 hours. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

Of course, Wesley made no move to get off the bed or to release her hand. "Why not?" she asked, inching closer. "Don't you want to kiss me?"

That was a stupid question. Wesley had actually been trying very hard not to think about kissing her for the last few days. "Well, you see, as a matter of fact-"

Drusilla decided she needed to take action. She liked him. She more than liked him. For once, Dru didn't want to be a good girl-she wanted to enjoy herself. Plus, she was psychic, so she knew exactly what she was getting into with Wesley.

The fact that he didn't have the same advantage didn't bother Drusilla in the least. She planned on being very careful with this man. The glimpses she'd caught of the future suggested that it might be bright indeed.

Her lips caught the rest of what he might have said, and though the kiss they shared was gentle, it shut Wesley up rather effectively. When he pulled back, the soft light in his eyes told her she'd done the right thing. "Are you certain this is what you want?"

"Do I look uncertain?" Drusilla asked, pulling him back in.

Wesley had to say that she seemed to know exactly what she wanted and how to get it.

~~~~~

Buffy was arguing with herself. It wasn't an uncommon problem for her. There often seemed to be two people inside her head, each wanting something completely different. On this particular morning there was one voice that was urging her to forget all about the heated make out session she'd had with Spike.

The other voice was arguing just as strongly for going to the basement, waking him up, and starting all over again.

The second voice was winning.

Buffy bit back a groan. She knew it was stupid to even think about starting up a relationship with another vampire. Especially when that vampire was evil and unsouled.

Except that Spike really wasn't that evil. Sure, he liked to talk about how bad he was, but Buffy had seen him with Drusilla. It was pretty obvious that he would do just about anything for somebody he cared about.

And, yes, Buffy did realize how insane it was to talk about a soulless vampire "caring" about anyone or anything.

Of course, it wasn't like Spike had ever been normal or anything. What other vampire liked little marshmallows in his hot chocolate?

Buffy was well aware that the idea of them embarking on something physical without their hearts getting involved was ludicrous. She already knew she felt something for him-she just didn't know what it was yet.

She wondered if Spike thought of her as more than just the Slayer, more than a trophy to be obtained. She thought the severity of his reaction to her lying to him was a clue. Spike had been pissed off enough to suggest that she had the capability of hurting him, which seemed to indicate that he might care for her more than he let on.

Then there was that little niggling doubt again, because even if he did care-at all-it didn't mean he'd stick around. Angel and Riley had both cared, and they had left. Buffy almost thought it would be easier if neither she nor Spike shared more than lusty feelings, since that might keep both their hearts intact.

"You're thinkin' awful hard."

Buffy whirled to face him, noting that he didn't have his shirt on again. The sight of his well-toned chest and abs caused all rational thought to go right out of her head. "Would you stop that?" she demanded. "You're always doing that!"

"Doin' what?"

"Sneaking up on me!" Buffy snapped. "Should I get you a bell?"

"Does it come with a leather collar?" he asked, leering.

Somehow Buffy didn't find his leer nearly as annoying today as she had in the past. "It might, if I thought it would help."

Spike's face softened slightly, and he gave her a genuine smile. "Gotta get my kicks somehow, Slayer," he replied.

When Buffy merely rolled her eyes at him and went about the business of finding something to eat, Spike cleared his throat. "We need to talk about last night."

"What about last night?" Buffy said, wanting to give nothing away. She wanted to hear what Spike had to say for himself first.

"Don't play that game with me, Slayer," Spike growled. "You know what about last night."

Buffy sighed. "No, actually I don't. If this is about the fact that we kissed, we kissed, Spike. That doesn't mean we have to do anything about it."

Spike scowled at her. "Why not? Are we doing the whole 'me, Slayer, you, evil vampire' thing again, because that's gettin' old."

"I don't know," Buffy shot back, sounding just as frustrated. "What do you want?"

"What do you want?"

They stared at each other in a stalemate that didn't look to be ending any time soon. Something in Spike's eyes gave Buffy the courage to say, "I don't know why you want me."

"Because-"

She interrupted him again. "I mean, I don't know if this is just-you know, about kissing, or if you-" Buffy winced. "Have feelings."

The last two words were spoken in such a low tone that Spike probably would have missed them if he hadn't been a vampire. "What kind of feelings?"

Buffy blushed. "Well, feelings."

Spike was beginning to become amused. The Slayer's ability to live in the land of denial was truly amazing. "If you're askin' if I want you dead, the answer's no, pet."

"That's good," Buffy said, knowing how lame it sounded even as the words left her mouth. "Because I don't really want you dead either."

He took a predatory step forward. "That right? Anything else goin' on in that pretty little head of yours I should know about?"

Buffy's mouth was watering. Literally. Why was it that Spike could stop her brain from working at ten feet? It wasn't fair for a person of the undead persuasion to be that sexy. It would be so much easier if he were human. Or had a soul. Anything that would let her haul him upstairs and make use of the empty house guilt-free.

"There might be some friendly feelings there," Buffy admitted.

Spike smirked. "Really? Matter of fact, I might have some friendly feelin's of my own."

Buffy took a step forward. "What are you going to do about it?"

He didn't allow her to wonder for long. Spike had been thinking about kissing her again pretty much from the moment she'd gone upstairs the night before. He was just amazed that she wasn't running in the opposite direction. She was, in fact, an enthusiastic participant.

As had happened the previous night, Buffy found the little voice in her head that warned her about what a bad idea this was became completely silent when Spike's lips met hers. When his tongue came out to play, all coherent thought left her head completely.

Her hands on bare skin, Buffy pulled him close-as close as two people could get without sharing the same skin. They were so caught up in the moment and in the sensations, that they didn't realize they had a visitor.

At least not until Willow cleared her throat. "If you guys are done playing tonsil hockey..."

Buffy broke away from Spike somewhat sheepishly. " Willow ."

Willow had a smug grin on her face. "I thought you said you didn't have the hots for Spike."

The Slayer opened her mouth to protest that she didn't, but the words wouldn't come. It would be an outright lie given what Willow had witnessed with her own eyes. "Whoops."

Spike, not at all happy with the interruption, crossed his arms in front of his bare chest. "What is it, Red?"

Willow flashed him a bright smile, not at all phased by his growly tone. "Angel called. Wolfram and Hart went after Drusilla last night. I guess Wesley got her out of harm's way, and they're holed up somewhere. Angel just wanted to give us a head's up."

"You couldn't have just called?" Spike asked sardonically.

Willow shrugged. "I could have, but Buffy and I were supposed to hang out today." She gave her friend a look. "You still up for it?"

Buffy hesitated, and then threw an apologetic look at Spike. "Do you mind?"

Spike minded, but the fact that Buffy wasn't actively freaking out that Willow had caught them kissing was something. She was also asking him if he minded in a tone of voice that suggested what he said mattered. "S'pose not. We can suss this out later."

"Absolutely," Buffy said, almost too cheerfully. She was grateful for the reprieve. "We can certainly 'suss' away."

Spike watched her dash out of the kitchen, meeting Willow 's eyes. "Well? You got somethin' to say to me?"

Willow smiled, although there was a bite to her tone. "You hurt her, and I will make you wish you'd never been born."

Somehow, Spike found himself believing her.

~~~~~

"Want to tell me what I walked in on?" Willow asked as soon as they were outside.

Buffy shrugged, refusing to meet Willow 's eyes. "We were kissing."

"I know that much," Willow replied, exasperated. "I thought you didn't like Spike."

"He grows on a person," Buffy said. She glanced nervously at Willow . "I don't know what I'm doing," she suddenly confessed. "It's just-last night we were sitting on the couch, right? All of a sudden Spike has his hand in my hair, and it felt so good. Then we just started kissing. He's just been so different lately, Will."

"So you do like him."

That seemed like too much of a black-and-white statement for Buffy. "There might be some like there," she hedged. "He is a really good kisser."

"So you're using him for his body." Although Willow 's tone was both serious and disapproving, she had a suspicious sparkle in her eyes. Buffy was just so much fun to tease.

"No!" Buffy replied. "There's no using! It's more like we're friends with benefits, you know?"

Willow was still trying hard to hide a smile. "You're friends with Spike."

Buffy was now officially confused, if she hadn't been before. "I-yeah, I guess I am," she said defiantly.

"I knew it," Willow said smugly. "I knew you had feelings for Spike."

"And you don't care?" Buffy asked.

Willow shrugged. "It's not like you've never dated a vampire before," she replied. "Besides, I've dated a werewolf, Xander's with an ex-demon, and you've been really supportive about Tara." Willow gave her friend a serious look. "Are you sure this is what you want, Buffy?"

"I don't know," Buffy confessed quietly. "You're right, Will. There's something there. I just don't know what it means yet. I know I could be making a huge mistake, but-"

"Carpe diem?"

"Something like that," Buffy replied. "Besides, if nothing else my mom likes him. You know how many of my boyfriends Mom's liked in the past?"

"None?"

"You got it." Buffy shook her head. "I have a feeling she'll be thrilled."

"Xander's going to flip his lid," Willow observed.

Buffy snorted. "Since when has Xander been a big fan of me dating anyone?" she asked. "He's just going to have to learn that he does not get a say in my personal life. If I want to date Spike, I'm going to date Spike."

Willow didn't bother pointing out the fact that this was the first time that anyone had suggested that Spike was Buffy's boyfriend.

~~~~~

Cordy watched Angel pace. "Now what?"

"I don't know," Angel grumbled. "It's not like I can just call up Wolfram and Hart and say, 'Hey, leave Drusilla alone!'"

Cordelia was curled up in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Why not?"

"Like that's going to work," Angel scoffed. "They'll do what they want. They always do."

"Why don't you make sure they won't come after her then?" Cordelia asked. "I mean, it's pretty much your job to take care of her, right?"

Angel stared at her. "Yeah, but I can't stop them."

"Why not?" Cordelia asked. "It's not like they're unkillable or anything. If you just let them know you mean business, maybe that would work. Go find somebody and smack 'em around a little." She smiled brightly. "It might even let you work off some of that tension and stop wearing a path in my floor."

Angel grimaced. "Lilah and Lindsay were both at the raising," he commented. "Maybe they know what's going on."

"Go after Lilah," Cordelia suggested.

Angel glanced over at her. "Why Lilah?"

"Please," Cordelia said. "She's probably not nearly as pissed off at you as Lindsay is. After all, you cut off his hand. Why would he want to do anything for you?"

It was a good point, and Angel nodded slowly. "That might work. At least I might get her to tell me what they want."

"Good plan," Cordelia said. "Now go out there and carry it out," she encouraged.

Angel smiled. "Are you getting fed up with me again?"

Cordy smiled. "No, but I had plans for a nice, hot bath and a good book."

~~~~~

Drusilla relaxed into Wesley's touch as he stroked her cheek. "When this is all over, I'm going to show you how wonderful this can be."

"I can already see it," Drusilla replied. "It's dancing in your eyes."

As much as Wesley really had wanted to make love to her, there was still the possibility that Wolfram and Hart would find them. He hardly wanted to be caught in flagrante delicto . "We're probably moving too fast," he murmured regretfully.

"It's only too fast if you don't know what you want," she pointed out.

Wesley smiled in return. "I know what I want," he replied. "You're so beautiful."

Spike had spoken to her in such a manner, even after he'd been turned. The gentle poet had never been completely banished, and he would often speak to her in soft words that would have delighted any woman's soul.

Angelus had caused her to be incapable of truly appreciating anything but pain.

With the return of her sanity had come the return of her hope for the future. Drusilla could now see what it might be like to have Wesley work his magic on her with his hands and lips. She could very nearly taste the ecstasy to come.

She drew his head down for another kiss, but stiffened as the images intruded.

The threat of sunlight-Drusilla no longer feared it, but it still held danger for Spike. The man speaking to him-threatening him-was the same man who'd had his hand cut off. He was threatening Spike with death unless he cooperated.

The light brightened the room, leaving only one small corner in shade. Spike was effectively trapped and obviously weakened, although he still didn't seem inclined to cooperate.

Spike never had reacted well to threats.

If they couldn't have Drusilla, they would take the chip, use the technology for their own gain. And they would leave nothing of Spike behind.

"Drusilla?" Wesley's concerned voice brought Dru back to reality. She glanced up at the ex-Watcher.

"They have him," Drusilla said with conviction. "Oh, Wesley, they're going to hurt him."

~~~~~

Buffy felt slightly guilty for having been gone all day. She had figured that Spike probably could use the time to sleep, but she'd also needed the time away from him. Time to think about what had happened between the two of them.

Of what she wanted to happen.

She didn't think she could stop it now if she tried. Buffy believed that whatever hung between them would have to be ridden out to its end, whatever that end might be. Perhaps it was foolish. She knew Giles would certainly tell her as much when he found out that there was something between her and Spike.

At the moment, however, Buffy really didn't care. She just wanted to feel his lips on hers again.

The front door was open when she got home, and Buffy blinked in surprise and a sudden sense of fear. She rushed inside. "Mom? Spike?"

There was no answer, and Buffy rushed through the rooms on the first floor, finding them empty. Only a few things were out of place, but it was enough to send fear into her heart and to have Buffy rushing to the basement. She knew full well that Joyce had most likely not returned home again. "Spike?"

His cot was empty, the blankets tangled, the indentation from his body still clear on the thin mattress. With fading hope, Buffy ran up two flights of stairs to find the second floor empty as well.

Spike was gone.

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