The Highlander Factor

The door disintegrated under their initial assault, and Connor entered first, closely followed by Faith. Gunn had initially complained about this order of attack until it was forcefully pointed out to him by Faith, as she twisted his arm neatly and painfully up his back, that in this company he was strictly third rate.

Behind them Gunn switched on the powerful flashlight he carried and swung it round in a wide arc. The place was deserted, just odd sticks of furniture scattered around and piles of rotting rubbish in the corners, no sign of the usual accoutrements he associated with a vampire's lair. Goddamn, Justine had been right, Spike had sold them out!

The thought had hardly crossed his mind when Faith swung round to face him, hissing under her breath. "This isn't what it looks like. There's vampires here I can feel them."

"Magic?" He mouthed back at her and she shrugged, he glanced at Connor who was ignoring them both, frowning in concentration and staring around the apparently deserted warehouse.

Gunn pointed outside miming Wesley's name and at Faith's short nod, he turned and went back through the door, running to the corner to where the second group was waiting until the way was clear for them to rescue the prisoners. Wesley looked annoyed when he arrived and he shrugged helplessly before filling them in.

"There's magic or something going on in there. The place looks empty," Justine looked up smugly, he ignored her and carried on, "but Faith says she can sense vampires."

Wesley frowned and pursed his lips. "Could be a concealment spell of some kind, I think I know how..."

Any further discussion was forestalled when an unearthly yell rang out from the interior of the warehouse. They looked at each other in horror before starting to run toward the entrance. When they arrived they found Faith and Connor both engaged with unseen foes and although they were holding their own, it was obvious they wouldn't for long.

Gunn took one look and threw himself into the fray, shouting back over his shoulder, "Whatever it is you're going to do, English, you'd better make it quick."

What he needed was a general protection spell, something that would negate the effects of any magics in the locale. He knew such a thing existed, Babylonian he thought but for the life of him he couldn't remember it and while he was floundering like a landed fish his friends were getting hammered.

"W-Wesley?" Fred had crept up beside him and was staring worriedly through the door at her lover as he did his best to fight what he couldn't see. "Are you going to do the spell now, 'cos I think it would be a really good idea not to wait."

He turned towards her helplessly and was thrown forward into her by a massive discharge of power emanating from inside the building and they both tumbled heavily to the ground, gasping as the air was driven from their lungs by the force of the blast.

"Hey, Wes?" Faith's voice came from inside, "Whatever you did, it worked. Let's waste 'em, guys."

The three warriors worked their way systematically through the minions arrayed in front of them and the young vampires, no match for such experienced fighters, melted before them. As the first rank vanished an opening appeared to one side and Wesley, Fred, and Justine slipped in, trusting the others to keep any stragglers off their backs. The second rank soon came into view and Wesley heard a shocked gasp from Justine when they appeared. He looked over at the new arrivals and with a pang realised he was looking at the remnants of Holtz's gang, Angelus must have found their hideout and turned any who remained, they would be fierce trained fighters and an extremely useful asset.

But there was no time to be distracted; they had to get to Willow and Dawn. He grabbed Justine's hand and started to drag her after Fred. She shook him off angrily and pulled a stake from her jacket pocket before turning towards him, her face set.

"I won't leave them to suffer."

He nodded, understanding her need to avenge her friends' deaths and let her go, the two of them would have to suffice for the rescue. Taking a deep breath Wesley fervently prayed that Spike had taken care of Angelus before leading the way deeper into the lair.

After stumbling around in the dark for some time, Fred nudged him in the ribs pointing to a failow low coming from a far wall in the main room. They crept closer, sticking to the wall until they could make out two figures, one on the floor, the other standing, arms raised and black hair whipping around its face.

"That's them." And it was. Dawn was lying unmoving on the ground, her arms over her head and the ethereal shape of the Witch was almost completely obscured by the magics she was using to immobilise the two minions who were standing in front of her. Releasing a stake from its holster Wesley ran forward, followed by Fred and they simultaneously plunged their weapons into the vampire's unprotected hearts.

As the demons turned to dust Willow staggered and fell, her hair returning to its more usual red before she hit the ground. Fred was next to her in a heartbeat, checking both the girls for injuries and after a moment she looked up.

"I-I think Willow's been bitten and she's really weak, but apart from that I think she's okay. Dawn's not so good, she's unconscious and there's several really nasty cuts that emergency should look at."

Wesley glanced back at the door where the sounds of fighting were continuing. "We have to get them out first. I can carry Dawn, I think. Can you wake Willow up?"

Fred shook the Witch's shoulder hard until Willow groaned and opened her eyes.
"Wesley? What...Where?"

"Can you walk? We need to get you out of here." She nodded and stared around blankly until Fred helped her to her feet and they set off back toward the door. Wesley gathered Dawn in his arms, grunting with the effort - she was quite a tall girl for her age - and followed them.

The battle had moved further into the lair so they were able to escape through the exit relatively easily, and as soon as they got into the open air Wesley leaned against the wall and allowed Dawn to slide gently to the ground. Wheezing slightly he turned to Fred and held out his keys.

"Take my car and get Dawn to the ER. Willow do you want to go with her or stay here. I'll be honest with you we could probably use your help if you feel up to it."

She nodded and Fred went to get the car. As they waited, Gunn appeared in the doorway helping Justine who was holding her arm across her chest and looked pale and pained in the poor street lighting.

"Collarbone. Hey, Willow, how're you doing." He grinned at them and shot back inside.

When Fred got back, they carefully laid Dawn on the back seat and Justine eased into the passenger side, while Wesley grabbed the chains and manacles from the foot well. It would never do for Fred to drive off with those; they still had a vampire to secure.

Twenty minutes later, Faith appeared at the door looking worried. "Place is clear, we've dusted the vamps and taken out a couple of demons he had guarding the backroom but...I think we have a problem."

At the back of the main room where they had found Dawn and Willow was a heavy steel door of the type found on walk-in freezers, but with no outward sign of an opening mechanism. Gunn was standing nearby, a faintly disgusted look on his face and still stalking around the place was Connor, checking they had cleared the last of the minions and hangers on.

Faith stopped by the door and turned to Wesley and Willow who had followed her. "We think they're in there and there's no way I can bust down the door. It's going to take explosives."

Wesley stared at the door curiously. Spike had made no mention of such a concealed room, but if the rest of the lair had been searched he supposed they must be in there. A second later his doubts were gone as a loud roar came from the other side followed by a low keening sound.

"What the hell is going on in there, man? It sounds like they're doing the dirty but good."

By mutual agreement the exact details of how Spike was going to distract Angelus had remained a secret but Wesley thought, it looked as if Gunn had worked it out for himself.

"Umm...yes, well."

"They are. Shit, I don't believe it. I had no idea Angel batted for both teams." The disgust was replaced by a broad grin and Wesley smiled at him a little embarrassed at the whole thing being revealed in this way. He was pretty sure Gunn was never going to let Angel live this down.

"Well, yeah, of course he does you big lunk-head." Faith glared at him, quelling his laugh before it started. "Vampires. They don't care what sti stick it to and Spike's family so I bet they go way back." It seemed this slayer's education on certain matters had been more comprehensive than Buffy's, Wesley certainly never recalled Rupert Giles mentioning such things.

From behind them, Willow made a small noise that sounded remarkably like "Oh," followed by a muttered, "That explains a lot and I thought it was just me." And he remembered the alternate universe vampire Willow that he had driven away from Cordelia at the old Sunnydale High School.

"Well, I'm not sure that all vampires..."

She glared at him. "Wes, don't be such a stuffed shirt. I'm not a kid anymore. And I'm perfectly okay with Spike and Angel having loud..." The noises started up again. "Shall we take this outside?"

By mutual agreement they hastily adjourned to the street to continue their discussion.

"How will we get in?" They were the first words Connor had said all evening and when everyone turned to stare at him, he flushed and looked at his feet.

"I could probably blast it open but not until I've had, like several hours sleep and pizza. Ooh, there'is ris really great Pizza place Angel took us too. Do you think it's still open?"

"Blast it open?"

"With magic. But that protection spell I did earlier, phew, it really takes a lot out of you."

"That was you? I had no idea? Are you really that powerful?"

What a stupid question, Wesley mentally kicked himself when he remembered her black hair and eyes and the way she held the two vampires unmoving while he and Fred staked them. "Err, never mind. Do you think you can do something to secure the door until you're recovered?"

"Don't bother. If Connor and Faith hang on hfor for a few, I'll go and get some welding gear. We'll have that door sealed up so tight, if one of them let's rip they'll be smelling it for weeks."

"And thank you for that image, Gunn." Wesley turned to Willow. "Well then, you and I should get back to the hotel, after we've stopped for pizza," Gunn went to speak again, "for everyone. And we'll see you three when the door is welded shut, yes?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When the discomfort became more than he could bear and it started to twist towards agony in his limbs he tried to move away, but all to no avail. And how could it be that he can sense pain, but not feel enough to move? He can see Dru in the doorway, silhouetted against a bright light, the curves of her body glowing, throwing reflections toward him that catch in his eyes, white and blinding.

"Dru, love." She cocks her head but does not answer. "Help me."

A single step forward and it is no longer Dru, smaller and blonder now with whipcord strength and cruel cutting eyes that never deign to show an atom of concern.

"Buffy?" Pain of an entirely different kind screeches across his nerves and he'd rather be flayed again, a million times than see that look in her eyes, the look of fear, anger and disgust, at him, for what he has done.

And he chokes out the only thing he has to say to her, those inadequate words that can never convey the depth of what he really feels. "I-I'm sorry."

He isn't worthy, can never be worthy, could never ask her for help, so he lets his head drop back to the pillow and feels the wetness where his tears have already fallen, the buckets of salt he had spilled for her, and for himself, over the mess they became.

Still unmoving, mind raging against the restraints around it, darkness beckons him in, and he follows the whirlpool dtowatoward blessed unconsciousness.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Angelus raised his bloody maw from his Childe's throat with a grunt of annoyance; the boy was nearly gone again and would need to be fed more before his fun could continue. As he'd gorged he had listened to the words Spike muttered, his body betraying him as its blood was pulled away, the names of those he had loved and lost. Such a foolish Childe thinking he could ever be free or truly happy without his Sire, and with a Slayer, but wasn't that what always made William such a glorious challenge, his persistent contrariness.

He ripped at a vein in his wrist and pressed it to Spike's mouth, urging him to drink so they could return to their games. As his powerful blood started its restorative action, his Childe whimpered around his wrist and squirmed beneath him, adding to the passion he could already feel returning to his loins.

He felt glutted on Spike's blood; full to overflowing of that tainted tasty fluid, yet somehow continued to crave more. As he felt newly strengthened fingers tightening on his arm, Angelus returned to the wound on his Childe's neck and lapped greedily at the blood oozing sluggishly from the torn flesh. Somewhere in the distance, he was aware that the sounds of fighting had ceased but it concerned him not at all. There were minions to guard the lair, and, if they failed, he was safe here behind a solid steel door, his last line of defence the huge walk-in freezer that had been converted into his private quarters. Safe, because even a demon would have difficulties breaking into this haven.

There was also a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that there was something significant he was supposed to be doing, something about a Witch, maybe? But he buried the thought away. Nothing could be more important that what he was doing right now, what could be more vital that fucking and feeding from his Childe, it was proper vampiric behaviour, not this ending the world nonsense.

What was it about that taste? It permeated Spike's blood, fainter than it had been several hours ago, but it was still there and he wanted more. As whimpers became fully-fledged moans he shifted his weight slightly, wanting to see how his Childe reacted this time. On the last occasion the boy had surprised him, wriggling out of his embrace and making for the door trying to escape. He'd had a great deal of fun teaching him the error of his ways, until he'd passed out again. Whatever possessed him to turn a creature with such a delicate constitution, honestly William went AWOL at the drop of a hat.

Then again, he ran his hand down the pale skin beneath him, and leaned forward to nuzzle into dark blonde curls. It was inspired of the boy to revive this incarnation of himself, it brought back so many memories of the fun and games he'd had, the days he'd spent exploring and exploiting this pliant seductive body. Happy memories indeed. Angelus lay back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift for a while, buoyed along by visions of the past that were so real he could almost taste them.

Spike cracked his eyes open slightly when he felt his Sire move away, and suppressed the groan that struggled to be born in his chest. He felt like shit and hurt all over, and what passed for dreams these days left him feeling worse than before. Next time, if he had what seemed like a good idea, he'd just stake himself and save anyone else the effort and himself a whole hell of a lot of pain.

The effects of the potion had started to wear off a while ago, though he had long since lost track of time as any extended period in Angelus' company tended to do that to him and passing out hadn't helped any. He did remember the first couple of hours being fun, when both of them were so swept up in the effects of Wesley's potion that the outside world meant nothing. Just Angelus' body around him, his scent and taste filling his senses, his hands on his flesh and his cock deep inside him. It had been good, very good, for a while, then the sex had stopped and the obsessive biting and drinking had started and that hadn't been so great, after he'd lost consciousness a couple of times, from the blood loss. And that was strange, 'cos Angelus was usually better than that, knew exactly how much to take to enhance the pleasure, or the pain, one of un-life's experts in that realm was his Sire.

The last time Angelus had brought him round, he felt stone cold sober., if, if he'd been human, would probably have pissed himself with fear, stuck in this fortress with a psychotic Sire, who was going to work out what was going on sooner or later, and dust him for his troubles. They hadn't considered the possibility of Angelus having a bolthole in the warehouse, one that was unassailable from outside without the use of high-grade explosives. He'd made a break for the door the moment he could escape Angelus' embrace, but it hadn't gotten him very far, just back on the bed and on the receiving end of a particularly brutal fuck he'd rather not dwell on.

Earlier, he recalled, there had been distinct sounds of fighting outside, followed by silence, so by now either the plan had succeeded and Willow and Dawn were safe, in which case whyn'tn't someone come to rescue him, or it hadn't. The latter scenario didn't appeal to him in the slightest; Angelus was obviously starting to come round and, as evidenced by their last encounter, was getting more creative in his games. He really wished they'd interrupted earlier while he was still enjoying himself.

"I know you're awake, so you can stop pretending." Spike let out a sigh and went to turn over, unsuccessfully as it turned out, due to the cuff that attached hift wft wrist to his Sire.

His lifted his hand, which in turn caused Angelus' to rise as well, and stared at their conjoined wrists in disbelief. "Hey, not fair."

"Since when has fair got anything to do with it?" With a slow steady pull on the cuffs, Angelus dragged Spike across the bed until he was lying draped over his chest. He looked down into blue eyes that no longer contained the joie de vivre he remembered. It was the damn soul, he reflected, but a soul was corruptible, unlike the plastic and wire that had controlled his Childe before. He felt an unusual pang of sadness, tinged with fury at the humans that had crippled his boy, and dropped a simple kiss on the head resting on his chest.

Spike purred and nuzzled closer. This was more like the Angelus he remembered, an evil, game playing bastard, but his evil, game playing bastard. Once you got back into the mindset it really was very simple, expect anything, discount nothing, and you were okay. Maybe it was worth trying to worm a couple of clues out of him. "So, what's with the cuffs, Sire?"

"You tried to escape and I couldn't be bothered chasing you again." The unspoken question was there. Why, having bothered to return at all, had he tried to get away?

Biting back an inappropriate 'Duh,' Spike scavenged his mind for an adequate explanation, settling eventually on something that sounded pretty dumb even to him.
"Bad dreams?"

Angelus' face softened at his words and took on an introspective cast. "It's the soul. You will be well rid of it."

"Chip first, then the soul." It should take a while for Angelus' to find a way of extracting or disabling the chip, much longer than removing his hard earned soul, but at least this way, if the plan had failed, he'd actually be able to bite when he wanted to again.

"I have some ideas, some contacts. It may take a couple of weeks, but we'll get it out." And wasn't that the most frustrating thing he'd heard in years. The irony of finding a way to get rid of the sodding chip now he didn't want it gone left Spike swallowing hysterical laughter, his face buried under Angelus' arm.

Totally misinterpreting the emotions coursing through his Childe's mind, Angelus stroked the quivering back under his hand and muttered soothing words. As the shaking stilled he continued his movements enjoying the feel of Spike's body against his own, and wondering if he was recovered enough for their play to continue. He slid his fingers downwards and between the cheeks of Spike's ass, probing for his entrance, then stopped when the action elicited a slight flinch.

"Still sore?"

This time Spike didn't bite back the obvious. "Well, duh. Not exactly gentle last time, were you." He lifted his head and settled a glare on his Sire. "If you'd wanted to keep shagging you should have thought about it before you forgot the lube."

Angelus raisis eis eyebrows questioningly, if Spike were looking for an apology he was going to be disappointed, however, there was more than one way of fixing things. He rolled them both over, then slid down the bed until he was resting between his Childe's legs and tapped one thigh. "Pull them up. Let me see."

As Spike did as he was told, Angelus could see why he had flinched under even the gentlest of touches. There was obvious evidence of muscle damage and splitting, and the slow seepage of blood from his Childe's anus suggested the tender tissues inside were probably torn as well. He hadn't been gentle, but then that had never been the purpose of the exercise, Spike shouldn't have tried to escape from him and would think twice before doing it again.

"You're a mess." The blood still smelled entrancing and Angelus ran his tongue up the track it left down a pale buttock, before following it back to the source.

"Don't complain. You made...fuck!" Spike clutched his knees to his chest, hanging on tight as instinct demanded he slam his feet flat on the bed, at the penetration of Angelus' probing tongue. It hurt, a lot, but the saliva-slicked coolness also soothed his damaged flesh, and from experience he knew that control at this point would pay dividends later. As the penetration became deeper and wetter, and the pleasure started to outweigh the initial discomfort, he wriggled encouragingly only to let out a small moan of disappointment as his Sire pulled away.

The tongue returned moments later, slicked with what Spike correctly guessed was his Sire's blood as the low burn, indicating rapid healing started inside him. He reached for his rapidly hardening erection, and then cursed roundly when he discovered that there was no way he could reach while his wrist was still cuffed.

"Angelus, fucking undo these."

His Sire raised his head complacently and upon seeing Spike's frustration his face broke into a broad smirk. "Use your other hand."

"Bollocks, you know I can't."

"Then you'll just have to wait." Spike dropped his head back onto the pillow with a moan, and locked his right elbow round his knees, his left hand resting at his side firmly attached to Angelus'. Just why did was he doing this again? Angelus returned to his task and it all slipped into place. Ah, yes. The bastard may make him wait but when he got to come it was the best fucking feeling on the planet.