Chapter 1.04
Saturday, May 11th, 2002

Buffy had left the most difficult phone call till last. She had no option but to try to enlist Angel's help, but she had no idea whether it would be given freely, or at all. Even in the four days that had passed since she had last seen him, her situation had changed in ways which made it impossible for her to gauge his reaction.

Angel hadn't been exactly happy when she and Spike had shown up in LA with her sporting a fresh set of bite scars. She couldn't say whether the fact that she and Spike were now on a more level footing would make his reaction better or worse. She did know that he wouldn't consider Drusilla's presence in LA of the good. Add to this the fact that she had no idea how things were going with Stephen, and she was swimming in a sea of tension.

Nevertheless, the point came where she simply couldn't put off the call any longer.

She listened as the answer-phone clicked in, debating whether it was safe to leave a message. Some of the people Angel worked with lived in the hotel, which made it a private residence. On the other hand, it was also a place of business like The Magic Box, and they'd never managed to find a way to bar Spike from there, even in the days when she had been at her most disparaging about his "obsession".

She returned the phone to its cradle, resolving to try again at five-minute intervals until she got a reply. Dawn sat on one of the twin beds, flicking through the music channels on cable. Eventually, she settled on a channel that was playing such obnoxiously tuneless metal music, that her choice could only be her way of expressing her disapproval at her sister's actions.

"Dawn, what exactly do you think is going on here?" Buffy asked.

"I think you're letting that bleach-blonde chip-head walk all over you and treat you like crap," Dawn huffed.

Buffy sighed. "Dawn, think about it. Before I would even give Spike the time of day, he offered to kill Dru for me. Do you really think he'd bail on me now?"

"But he..."

"He did everything he could to make sure Dru didn't set her not so little cadre of vamps on us. Spike isn't "with" her. He's her prisoner. She probably thinks it's her turn to torture him till he loves her again. He wasn't trying to be hurtful. He was trying to make it look like we weren't important enough to him to be of any use to her."

"Yeah, cause we all know that vamps like to lick their torture victims."

"Dawn. Just grow up. Spike is in danger, whether you believe it or not.

I don't know anything about the demon side of LA.

I'm going to have to ask my ex for help to go after his ex to save his ex's ex.

Right now I need your support, not the musical stylings of Slipknot at full volume. Okay?" Buffy itemised the facts as clearly as if she'd numbered them one to four.

"You want me to cheer him on while he cheats on you with the woman he shared a centennial with, then?"

"Damn right I do, since the first thing he was worrying about was getting your butt out of there. Or hadn't you realised that you're the reason he wouldn't take a chance on fighting his way out?"

"I just thought..." Dawn slumped back against the pillows.

"There's your problem. You want to work out why Spike's doing something, you've got to forget what you think and go with what you feel. And I know that we love each other too much to let Elvira be more than a temporary inconvenience. I trust him. Whatever things with Morticia might have looked like, he was just buying time or trying to see what he could find out, but it won't last. He's a- He couldn't lie if his life depended on it." A little, malicious voice in her head couldn't help adding that it just might.

Buffy was almost ready to pack up and head for the Hyperion in person, to see what was going on, by the time she finally got an answer to her calls.

"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless."

"Hi," answered Buffy. "Can I speak to Jason, please?"

"I think you've got the wrong number, honey. There's no Jason here."

Buffy heaved a sigh of relief as the answer came instantaneously rather than after the hesitation that might have been indicated her callee didn't actually belong there.

"No, it's the right number. I just had to make sure I wasn't talking to a wrong guy. Who am I talking to anyway?"

"Slow up, strudel. Who're you? And why did you think there might be a wrong guy?"

"Well, for a start. I'm no-one's strudel. It's Buffy. And you still haven't told me who you are, but I'm beginning to think horny guy."

"Aren't we all?" the demon drawled. "Tell Lorne your problems, puddin'... Unless, of course, you wanna drive down in person and just sing."

"Sing? You're not related to some bald, red guy? Same taste in clothes? Got a thing for taking child brides into hell?" Buffy asked.

"No, but I think I might have met him once. More of a song and dance type of guy? Sort of a demon's Gene Kelly? But that's not why you called, is it?"

"Okay. How much do you know about Angel's family tree?"

"Not a lot. I think there's some sort of chart somewhere in the files, but other than the two I've met, I can't say that I've taken much of an interest. I'm not that big on the whole family deal."

Buffy let out another sigh, this one born of frustration. "Are you the only one there? Maybe I could speak to Angel or Cordelia? Where are they all."

"I think— Ehm, look, there ain't no easy way of saying this. Cordelia's gone missing. Her car was abandoned in the middle of the highway same night you and delicious headed back to the hellmouth. Groo's just gone. All his stuff's been cleared out of her apartment. Everybody else is out stirring up everything that moves trying to work out where she's gone."

"Then I think maybe I've got some bad news for you. You know how Angel feels about Cordelia? You think Darla could have known about it, when she was in town the time before the time Stephen was born."

"I get a bad feeling about why you're asking this, but I'd say no. When Angel and Darla were doing the horizontal mamba, Cordy and the others weren't even sharing office space with him. I think the whole love-puppy thing came later."

"Well, I suppose that's maybe something to be thankful for. Not that it's any kind of guarantee that the wicked witch of the West End doesn't know anyway... Look. I can't tell you where I am, but you need to let Angel know that Dru's in LA. She's got a serious number of vamps in tow, and she's got Spike."

"Whoa, girl. What d' you mean she's got Spike?"

"I mean he shoved me and my sister into a cab and walked into the lion's den, hoping she'd leave us alone if she had him, is what I mean. So far, if Spike's right about this bond thing, he's not dead or seriously injured, but I don't know, I mean vampire to slayer might not work like vampire to vampire, so maybe I wouldn't know, except I think I would. Even without the bond, I think I would, y' know?"

"Sure. Back home they call it kyrumption, muffin. I know. So you made an honest demon out of him, after all?" Lorne asked.

"Yeah, and less than a day later, his ex comes hunting for him somewhere that isn't where he'd normally be. Can't say I'm big on the coincidence theory."

"Me neither. What say I give you Angel cake's cell number, and you can give him a call?"

"Anything's worth a try at this point... Look, if you don't hear anything else before then, I've arranged to meet Wes tomorrow at noon outside the planetarium. I think it might be a good idea to get everybody together to sort out what to do about this.

In the meantime, if you've got any human friends with their own apartment, I suggest you get out and leave messages for anybody else that might head back there to do the same. They might already be watching the hotel though, so try to make sure you're not followed."

"Sure, dumpling. I'll high tail it on out of here as soon as I leave a message for the others. Now have you got a pen and paper ready?"

Angel used one hand to hold the demon up against the wall of the bar with his feet kicking against thin air. He was in full game face and gave the appearance of being ever so slightly impatient. The remaining patrons of the establishment held onto their drinks and tried to watch what was going on closely enough to be able to get out of the way if trouble came in their direction, whilst trying to give the impression that they weren't paying any attention at all.

"Now we're going to start again," the glowering vamp informed the demon. "And what it's worth is your life, what little might be left of it."

"I swear. I ain't heard nothin', honest." The red-skinned demon blinked green, catlike eyes as he gasped for enough air to make his reply.

"Then how come I've heard from at least two different sources that you're the demon to see."

"I don't know nothin' 'bout no girl, man. All I know is this guy comes lookin' for a way to some other dimension. Looked a lot like you in fact, 'cept for the brow and the eyes."

"Keep talkin'," Angel growled.

"Nothin' to tell. Put him in touch with this old guy I know, well demon, technically."

The tale was interrupted by the ringing of Angel's cell phone. Angel ignored it.

"Ain't you goin' to answer that?"

"And let you make a run for the door? I prefer to save my effort for beatin' the truth out of you rather than waste time on the chase. Don't get me wrong, time was I'd like nothin' better than to give you a head start and let you think you had a chance to get away... But that's when I'm out for fun. In case you hadn't guessed, I'm not in a fun mood, tonight. So why don't you tell me the name and address of this demon you sent this guy to, and maybe I'll let you finish your drink in peace?"

"Look, all I know is, you want big magic, then this guy knows the deal. He's got a book shop, down the bottom end of the strip."

"That's it? Don't you think I know all the people who deal in that sort of stuff?" Angel relaxed his arm slightly and then slammed the demon back into the wall so hard that its head left a dent in the plaster.

"N-not this one. He's new. Only came to town a couple of months back. And he can pass for human. If you put me down, I've got his business card in my wallet."

Angel grudgingly let the other demon regain his footing and search through his wallet until he found a bright shiny business card. The proprietor obviously knew his clientele, as the card looked more like a credit card than a conventional business card, thereby explaining its pristine condition in comparison to the other contents of the wallet.

Angel pulled the card from the demon's hand and headed for the exit. As he pulled the door open, he turned to address the still gasping demon. "This turns out to be a dead end, or you try to warn this guy I'm coming, and next time I won't leave you any arms to use while you're waiting for the replacements to grow in." The demon looked down at the severed arm that lay on the floor and treated Angel to an uncomplimentary gesture with the hand attached to one of his remaining three.

Angel waited till he was back in his car to try calling the number from which the missed call had originated.

"Blue Moon Motel,"

"Hi. I'm Angel. I think someone there might have tried to contact me on my cell phone."

"Man, we've got thirty-two rooms here, some of which are rented out by the hour, so if some gal... or guy wants to call out for some entertainment, then we don't see nothin' and we don't hear nothin'. Understand?"

Angel's mouth gaped open as he gradually realised that the clerk assumed he was a male prostitute. "Hey. It's... look, I'm private investigator, not ...not that I couldn't-" The vampire stammered in his embarrassment before beginning again.

"Look. Is there anybody there looks like they might be in trouble or anything?"

"It's a motel, dude. What do you think?" the clerk replied. "We're not exactly catering to the honeymoon crowd."

"Sure. Thanks anyway." Angel debated whether he should head for the bookshop (which he figured would probably be closed up for the night), or try the motel where, if the call came from a stranger, he would be at a dead end.

After a minute or so, he swung the car toward Santa Monica and one last demon bar. The chances were the call was probably a wrong number, and if it wasn't, and it was important they were bound to call back.

As he pulled away, he said his own name out loud several times in varying tones of voice from soft to gruffly masculine, contemplating its sound. "It does not sound like a male prostitute," he muttered, not quite managing to convince himself.

Lonesome and his group of young male vamps, who all looked like they might have been gym-rats in their previous life, let Angel get a couple of blocks head start. Then, they took off after the big black convertible leaping from roof to roof, exalting in the hunt, even if, for now, they only planned to observe. The roar of the traffic covered any noise they made, and if a bum were to swear he'd seen about thirty guys leap the width of the alley where he was sheltering from the wind then no-one would believe him.

Buffy hung up the phone. She'd left a message on Angel's voicemail. Presumably, he was caught up in some action or other regarding Cordelia's situation. Nevertheless, she was sure he'd take her message seriously, if only because Cordelia's disappearance might be connected to Dru's arrival.

For now, there wasn't much else she could do except maybe call Wes later. Angel and his green guy, had been warned about what was afoot. (God! She knew too many Brits.) Willow and Tara knew not to go back to their room before the four of them met up in the diner tomorrow morning. After that, it was a case of checking out the rooms in force and meeting up with however many of Angel's crew made it to the planetarium.

Suddenly faced with nothing to do except think about what could be happening to Spike while she sat in her motel room, on her lumpy, single bed, Buffy felt the first sting of oncoming tears reach her eyes. Standing up, she turned her back so that Dawn wouldn't see, and managed to almost disguise the slight waver in her voice as she spoke.

"I'm going to see if this place is too cheap to come with complementary bubble-bath," she informed her sister as she shut herself in the bathroom and let the sound of running water drown out any noise she might make.

"So, pet, what exactly do you have planned for this evening? Do I get to meet the wonder protégé?" Spike drew deeply on his half-smoked cigarette.

"Naughty boy. You shan't see all Mummy's secret things. Not before you come back to her."

"Aren't I back here with you, now, sugar plum?" the blonde vampire smiled coyly at his former paramour, his right hand brushed against her neck in a gentle caress as his left hand settled at her waist, drawing her close against him.

Dru tutted at him. "You're not my knight any more. The nasty girl holds the end of your lead."

"The slayer doesn't have anything to do with the chip, petal." Spike's speech slowed as he began to realise his former paramour had in fact meant something else.

"You wear your lead on your neck" Dru pulled gently on his shirt collar so that the scar at the join between his neck and shoulder lay exposed. "Mummy must take off your collar and your muzzle before you can come to tea again."

Despite his best efforts, Spike felt his stomach sink. Dru wanted her Spike back, and that didn't just mean getting rid of the chip. That meant breaking the newly formed bond.

Swifter than the human eye could see, Spike stepped round behind Dru. His right hand stayed in place on the left side of her neck as he moved, and he used his left hand to tilt her head on one side. The position left Dru basically defenceless against him. Whilst she might be able to remove some skin by scratching blindly at his hands or face, he could snap her neck in an instant.

"I don't want to hurt you, baby. Just tell all the kiddies to stay-"

Spike's words faltered as five crossbow bolts hit into his body in close succession from assorted rear angles.

Free once more, Dru sighed. "The death card calls your name, my prince. It said it was time for change, but my songbird warned that you would bite the hand that frees you."