The Highlander Factor

"Now that is something I could have gone my whole life without seeing." Willow shook her head trying to clear it of the disturbing scene she had just spied on, and reached out for the glass of water that sat on the desk in front of her.

"From the look on your face, I'm certain I don't want details, but can I assume Spike is still alive, or at least not dust." Wesley reached for the bottle and refilled the emplasslass, earning him a grimace of gratitude from the Witch sat in his chair. Her appearance was much improved since she had been rescued ten hours ago, but she still looked drawn and tired.

She nodded. "Hmm. Not dusty. He's also still busy distracting Angel...sorry, Angelus. You know, despite everything it still seems impossible that he's back."

"Hopefully, not for much longer." His watch showed it was eleven am, he wasn't expecting Fred to return from the hospital withn ann and Justine for several hours and in the meantime they had to work out a way of completing their plan.

"I've looked through my books and, from what I can see, there are no simple spells that will break through a solid steel door."

Willow waved her glass at him, her mouth full of water, then swallowed. "Really it's no problem. Give me another few minutes and I'll be able to knock it down, and hold Angelus while you chain him."

Wesley frowned at her. "Are you sure? I don't wish to cast aspersions on your abilities as a Witch, but you've been through so much in the last few days and I wouldn't like to see you over reaching yourself."

"Believe me when I say that will not be a problem, Wesley. I'm feeling much better, I know exactly what my limits are and I am not going to go beyond them. I like the world too much for that." The last was said with humour, but there was a darkness behind her green eyes that suggested it was far from being a joke.

He stood up, somewhat gingerly, and put a hand to the small of his back where the strain from lifting Dawn was causing no small discomfort. "I'll tell the others to get ready then. Leave in five minutes?"

When she nodded, he turned and limped out of the room.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The concussion wave from the imploding door couldn't have come at a less opportune moment, they'd both got to the 'oh god' stage, and Angelus bellowed in fury at the interruption. As he pulled away from his Childe's body and turned to confront the intruder, the spell hit him full in the chest.

Willow stood by the door, her hair whipped by an unearthly wind as she pitched her will against the master vampire writhing on the floor. "C-chains, I can't hold him forever."

As Connor slipped in to the room past her, manacles in hand, Spike rolled over in the bed with a petulant pout and yanked the sheet over himself. "Bloody awful timing, pet. That's the best shag I'd got out of him all night."

"Get dressed."

A bundle of clothes landed on the bed and he sorted through it quickly for his jeans, pulling them on in the improvised privacy of the bedding. "So, Wes. I've worked out why that vamp in your book took a walk in thn."n."

Wesley fixed him with a tolerant stare, only too aware of how unrepeatable Spike's deduction might n min mixed company. "And that would be?"

"He was desperate for a shag, mate, that's why. That stuff packs one hell of a punch."
He covered his grin with his t-shirt, and had managed to recompose his face into a picture of innocence by the time it was visible again.

"Spike that was both unnecessary and gratuitous..." Wesley started, then yelped as the vampire threw himself across the room with a roar.

He spun just in time to see the stake that Connor had been aiming at his father's chest sink into Spike's back. The teen was bowled backward but rolled easily onto his feet, and took off through the door without a backward glance, pushing Willow roughly aside as he made his exit.

"Faith! Gunn!" There were the brief sounds of a scuffle outside then the others rushed in. They grasped the severity of the situation immediately, and quickly finished securing the chains and manacles until Angelus was firmly contained.

As they did so, Wesley sank to his knees next to Spike, thankfully not a pile of dust, and grasped the end of the stake.

"Careful, Watcher." The vampire's voice was strained and he was obviously in a great deal of pain. "Move that a millimetre the wrong way and you'll be taking me home in an ashtray."

"Shut up and let me do it, then." He tightened his grip and painstakingly started to draw the weapon towards him and out of Spike's back. As it slowly slid out, he could feel the edges of the wood catching against bone, and the vampire's fisted hands turned white as he fought the urge to pull away. With a final hard yank, Wesley managed to drag it completely clear and he dropped back onto his heels, breathing hard from the exertion.

Gunn grabbed a shirt from the chair he was standing next to, handing it to Wesley without a word. He wadded it up and used it as a pressure bandage, pressing down hard on the puncture wound that gaped in Spike's back.

"H-how long will it take to heal?" He should know this type of thing, having worked with Angel for so long, but the older vampire was almost obsessively private when it came to his injuries, allowing Cordelia to clean and bind them but never mentioning them again.

Spike tried to speak, then coughed, a little blood showing on his lips. After a beat he breathed again, this time managing to suck in enough air to talk. "That depends on whether you'll let me have a nibble, pet."

Wesley clouted him gently round the head, and Spike laughed then coughed again.

"We can't do anything here. Faith? Can you and Gunn get Angelus back in the pick-up, use the body bag that's under the seat in the convertible? I'll reverse the car up to the door, and Willow can help me stick Spike in the trunk.

"Hey." There was an outraged grumble from the vampire on the floor.

"It's that or spontaneous combustion. The sun came up hours ago."

As the others hurried to their tasks, Willow found herself helping Spike towards the door of the warehouse. They sat in the shadows waiting for Wesley to retrieve the car, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them, and she realised she hadn't seen the vampire since...oh god, so much had happened between then and now. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, the events of the last few days, and the months before, suddenly catching up with her, and she covered her face with her hands not wanting him to see her cry.

"So, um, how's Dawn? She okay?" It was a lousy opener, but Spike couldn't think of anything else to say that wouldn't lead on to all subjects Sunnydale.

"Huh?" Willow glanced up and he saw the wetness on her cheeks.

He frowned and shifted painfully towards to her, bending down to peer at her more closely. "You all right, pet? Oh hell."

She burst out in uncontrolled sobs, the tenuous hold she had kept over her emotions finally breaking down, and he patted her gently on the shoulder. "It'll be all right, you'll see. Angelus will be gone soon enough, then you can go back to your mates in Sunnydale." When his words made no impression on her tears he added, "Hey, how's that sexy girlfriend of yours."

Willow wrapped her arms around herself and wailed, a terrible bereft sound that made the hairs on the back of Spike's neck stand to attention with its animalistic tone. The last time he had heard anything like it had been when Dru's vision had told her that Angelus had left them in Romania, it was full of loss and mourning and pure, unadulterated grief. Obviously, he had asked the wrong thing and he racked his brain trying to remember if Giles had mentioned anything about the Witches when he'd been with him in England. He genuinely couldn't remember, not that it was surprising; there were whole chunks of time missing from that little sojourn.

When Wesley pulled the convertible into the alley, Spike pulled himself to his feet with an overwhelming sense of relief. He may feel empathy with humans now, but that didn't mean he had any more of a clue what to do for the girl weeping beside him. When the man raised a questioning eyebrow, Spike shrugged and virtually fell into the trunk as sas Was Wesley opened it, hardly waiting for it to slam shut before falling asleep.

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

"How is he?" Cordy wandered into the office after helping herself to a large mug of coffee, her eyes were still circled by dark shadows, and her hands shook slightly as she raised the hot drink to her mouth.

Wesley glanced up from the pile of paperwork he was pretending to study. "Downstairs. Spike's with him. Has been since we got back." His eyes returned to her face, immediately reflecting concern for the Seer standing in the doorway.

"More to the point, how are you?"

She answered him lightly. "Me? I'm fine, never better."

It was such an obvious lie that Wesley found himself unable to call her on it. Memories of Cordelia concealing the severity of the visions from them still haunted him, he may not be the boss of Angel Investigations anymore, but that didn't mean he cared any less for his friends and co-workers.

"Where are the others?" She pulled out a chair and flopped into it, exhaustion showing in her every movement.

"Willow's still asleep. She was very weepy when we got back, I think Spike might have said something to upset her." He pushed the papers to one side and leaned on the desk, studying Cordelia's face for any clue as to what was going through her mind. "Fred and Gunn volunteered to take Dawn back to Sunnydale; they'll be back later today."

"Everybody's all right?" When they had returned from the raid, she had only stayed long enough to check they were all alive before retreating to her room, not even waiting for the retrieval operation. That had been well over twenty four hours ago and she still looked awful.

"The usual, bumps and bruises. Nothing, when you consider what we were dealing with."

"Connor?" Now this was going to be more difficult.

"Ah. It appears that your vision may have been trying to warn us about that particular problem."

Her head shot up and she gave him a questioning look.

There was no point beating around the bush in this matter, she would find out sooner or later. "He tried to stake his Father."

She lowered her eyes and pressed her hand to her forehead. "Oh god, poor kid. He's so screwed up, Wes. And Angelus coming back must have really messed with him."

It wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting; anger or dismay, maybe some cutting remark, not quiet sadness, and it further indicated just how badly her human body was damaged by the visions.

"Cordelia, I don't want to push you on this but when can we..."

She waved away his question, put her empty mug down and stood up to leave. "Later today. If you need me, I'll be downstairs for a while."

Wesley watched her leave the office before returning to stare at the papers, it was a pointless exercise, his mind was in too much of a whirl to concentrate on anything. Connor and Justine had vanished after the boy had turned up at the hospital and Faith had set off to search for them, having assured Wesley she was less interested in murdering the ungrateful little monster than aiding him in his search for forgiveness. The expression on her face as she left suggested forgiveness would come on the end of her fists, and it seemed a strange way to aid someone on the path to redemption, oughough a punch from a Slayer was hardly less painful than a slit throat and a pillow.

When everything finally calmed down, he'd made a quick phone call to Buffy to let her know her sister was okay, and that had turned into a terrible confessional where she had blamed herself for everything, up to and including Tara's death and Willow's attempt to destroy the world. With a sigh, Wesley stood up; sometimes he wondered whether there really was any point. It didn't seem to matter how hard they fought; there was always something bigger and tougher waiting round the corner.

Without conscious thought he traced Cordelia's steps toward the training room, stopping at the top of the stairs when he heard voices.

"...better this way. At least he's quiet."

"Not such good company?"

"Nothing I haven't heard a hundred times before, just got bored with it is all. Plus I wasn't going to get close enough to gag him. I like my fingers where they are."

He shuffled forward to get a better view of the speakers, peering round the corner and down into the basement. It felt slightly dishonest, eavesdropping on their conversation, so he justified himself by remembering Cordelia's face in the office and dwelling on her state of mind. He could see Angelus chained to the wall, his head slumped forward and even from this distance the bruises down the side of his face were obvious, Spike must have hit him very hard indeed to make him bruise that badly. The older vampire was still naked, no one had wanted to get close enough to dress him, when Willow's spell was reversed and he immediately released his demon, snarling, snapping at anything that came too close.

Seeing him like that brought back disturbing memories of the seconds just after they had broken into Angelus' private quarters, the two vampires momentarily taken by surprise, and the image of them together was inscribed on Wesley's brain in a totally disturbing fashion. His mind was filled with long pale limbs entwined, starkly defined against the brilliant crimson of the bed, hard muscle against hard muscle rippling sensuously and moving relentlessly, straining toward release. Angel had been covering his Childe revealing the perfect lines of his body and honeyed tones of his skin, exposing the vast expanse of his exquisitely muscled back and flanks, the expression of impending rapture on his beautiful face only highlighted by the demon's presence.

A sharp chill ran through him at the thought of being where Spike had been, dominated and possessed by that magnificent creature, the ecstasy of suffering contained within its immortal bloody kiss. He dragged his eyes away from the body of his erstwhile employer with a shudder and turned his attention to the other two people in the basement room.

Cordelia was sat on the only chair, one elbow leaning on her crossed legs, her eyes firmly averted from the naked form in front of her. She appeared quite relaxed, almost trance-like, as she stared off into the middle distance, their conversation having dried up. In complete contrast, Spike looked ready to run at any moment, his eyes shifting nervously between his Sire and the woman in the chair, his hands fiddling incessantly with something Wesley couldn't identify.

"So, Wes said you had a vision about me and... um, Angelus?" Which particular insult had he decided not to use, Wesley wondered?

"Right, not that it did any good." She indicathe ohe only obvious sign of the stake he had taken on Angelus' behalf, the large tear in the back of his shirt, edged with dried blood.

There was silence again, Cordelia sitting quietly and the vampire staring uncomfortably at the ground, occasionally glancing up at her. Eventually Cordelia stirred, shaking her head slightly as if coming to a decision.

"I just wanted to say I was sorry, for what I said to you in your dream." Spike opened his mouth to protest, but she waved silesilent.

"It was wrong, not what I said about you, I know I was right there. The wrongness was saying Angel was any better. I know he's not, I-I saw a lot of things when I was...wherever I was. You, Angelus, even Darla, I saw what you were and what you became, all of you. I understood for the first time what Angel goes through everyday, and I couldn't stand the thought of him suffering all that time only to be cast aside because the Powers would accept you instead of him. If you don't want to go through with it, I'll understand, I won't - couldn't - force you, even try to persuade you. I learned that lesson. The Powers don't take kindly to their agents interfering in their clever plans."

So that was why she'd been returned to the human plane, Wesley drew in a sharp breath, he'd thought she wasn't being entirely truthful and he was right. The Powers had punished Cordelia's attempt to safeguard Angel by casting her out, and sentencing her to death through visions her human body was not equipped to handle, it seemed an unduly harsh price to pay for trying to save a loved one. The devil may have all the best tunes but he didn't have the monopoly on cruelty.

His thoughts were interrupted when Spike replied. "You were right though. He does deserve another chance. If I hadn't been so bloody selfish he would never have lost his soul in the first place. It's up to me to put it right, let him have his soul back. So long as the chip still works I'll be safe, at least."

"Will you miss him?"

"Angelus? Hell no," the vampire laughed, "He wasn't quite so nutty this time but he still wasn't the Angelus I remember." He paused, a thoughtful frown skittering across his face. "Or maybe it's me that's changed. It's been a long time and the memories fade."

Cordelia shook her head, "No, you're right. I saw him as he was before. More like Angel, when he gets really mad about something or when he's playing with someone. There's more of Angelus in Angel than any of the others realise."

Her words should have come as a surprise but somehow they didn't. It was something Wesley had always suspected, whenever he saw that darker side of Angel, the glint he sometimes got in his eye, the look that had been completely missing when he'd been leaning over the hospital bed trying to end Wesley's life. And in some ways that had made it so much worse, to know that it wasn't the beast he had awakened but the man, that he had so enraged Angel's soul that it was willing to bloody it's hands with a human life to exact revenge.

It was Cordelia's turn to laugh, a light, joyful little sound. "I remember one time, he was supposed to be apologising to Merle," She stopped when she saw Spike's confusion.

"A demon informant he'd beaten up to get rmatrmation. Anyway, he was like, 'I'm so sorry, Merle' and the demon wasn't buying it at all, because Angel's reading it off a card and he kept on and on, and eventually he got Merle so mad he tried to hit him, in Caritas of all places. You know no demon violence and all." When her story got no reaction, she added, "I guess you had to be there but...it was funny, and very Angelus."

The confusion cleared on Spike's face as if he was suddenly seeing what had eluded him before. "Yeah, I know what you're saying. When I first ran into him in Sunnydale, he was such a miserable bastard, all broody and pining after the Slayer. Then when I came here for the ring, when you walked in on us fighting in the underground garage, he was pure Angelus that day. When he had me pinned over that car, I couldn't decide if I wanted him to fight me or fuck me."

"I should have fucking killed you." The pair had been so caught up in their conversation they had missed the slight movements from Angelus as hme rme round. Toppling the chair to the ground behind her, Cordelia sprang to her feet and backed away, wanting to put as much distance between herself and Angelus as possible.

Spike moved in front of her protectively and hissed under his breath. "Get out of here. I'll watch him."

She stayed, a rabbit caught in the headlights of Angelus' seductively smooth voice. "Cordelia, so lovely to see you again. Don't leave on my account, I'm sure we can find lots to talk about, or something more interesting to do. Hey, here's a thought you could do me. I'm a bit tied up but I'd love to see you down on yer knees."

He leered at her then stared pointedly down at his stiffening erection. "What do think, lover? Fancy this big cock o' mine down your throat?"

When she flinched away from him, he panted after her and rattled the chains, his voice purring smugly. "Ha, I thought so. I can smell you, Cordy, all hot and wet for little old me, your pussy all juicy and dripping. Unchain these and I'll take you for the best ride of your life."

Wrapping the shaking woman in his arms, Spike led her out of the basement, passing Wesley on the stairs without so much as a blink, all three trying to ignore the crude commentary that followed them.

No one returned to the basement. They barricaded the door and trusted that the chains would hold.