Breaking a Slayer

Breaking a Slayer

Chapter 39

Author's Note: Quotes are from Ats "War Zone." I've taken considerable liberties with them in order to include Spike (and Gunn is gone). And, yes, I realize that this plays bloody hell with the timeline of the canon, but hey, this is AU, so I can do that (well, and for that matter, if Angel can think that what he had with Buffy…HIS SOULMATE…was a childish crush and his feelings for Cordelia are LOVE, then why the heck am I even worrying about the bloody canon since no one at Mutant Enemy is…not that I'm bitter or anything, perish the thought). That ep takes place later than "Sanctuary" and "This Year's Girl" in my world. I am the goddess of time. -Rhi

*

Angel and Spike climbed slowly from his convertible and walked to the storefront of his small investigative office. "Guess this'll be home for a bit then eh, Peaches," the blond vampire quipped as they stepped inside.

Angel nodded, tiredly. He was feeling the effects of his blood fast already and it had only been a day. How much worse would he feel in a week, let alone two? It was good that his childe was here to see him through it. Well, good for the sire. It was probably not going to be pleasant for the childe. *Then, again,* he thought ruefully, *I'm rarely pleasant to Spike, not as Angelus, anyway.*

They made their silent way to the basement apartment. Angel placed his bags on the floor and began meticulously hanging his coats and suits up in his closet. Spike simply dumped his duffel in a corner and leaped to the bed, pouncing up and down on it like an overgrown puppy.

"Got any O-Pos lyin' around, Peaches?" he asked plaintively. "'M hungry."

"There should be some in the freezer, Spike. You'll have to defrost it in the microwave. Mind you, don't blow it up, if you please."

"Faugh. Don't like it frozen. Tastes like dreck. Platelets get all squooshy. Nothing like fresh. Even pig's blood is better."

"Yes, and I'll have more for you tomorrow, but I didn't tell Cordelia when we'd be back, so I'm sure she hasn't restocked my supply. You can check the refrigerator if you wish, but I doubt there's anything there," Angel replied, a bit snippily. After all, he was hungry, too, and wasn't able to eat anything. It was hardly fair of Spike to keep harping on the subject.

"Oh, all right. I'll wait till tomorrow then. Unless you know any ax murderers hanging out nearby you'd like to be rid of?" Spike inquired hopefully.

Angel grimaced at him. "Spike, please just go to bed!"

"I miss Buffy."

"As do I, childe, as do I."

"She'd be all warm and snuggly in our bed right about now, Sire."

A rung gng growl was his only reply as Angel continued unpacking.

*

Cordelia, Wesley, Angel and Spike walked into a big Hollywood party.

"Oh, I miss that smell!" Cordelia said.

Wesley replied, "Camembert, I believe."

Cordelia was confused. "What? No…money…I like the smell of a little money once in a while."

Angel nodded. "She's not just saying that. Hide some in the office sometime to watch her. It's uncanny."

Cordelia was distracted. "Oh, there he is." Shentednted to a guy in a plaid shirt, sitting by himself. "Mr. Nabbit, hi!"

Nabbit got up to greet them. "Hi."

Cordelia as they shake hands: "Hi."

Nabbit: "Glad you could come."

Cordy: "Thanks."

Angel said politely. "Thanks for having us."

"It's a pleasure. Who are you?" he asked.

"Oh. I'm Cordelia Chase? We spoke on the phone?"

Nabbit held out his hand to shake again. "Oh! Right! They shook again. "So… so you…you must be…Angel."

Angel shook his hand. Clearly this guy was even more awkward around people than he was. "Yes. Pleased to meet you. And this is Wesley, my associate. And Spike, my…other associate."

Wesley nodded politely. "Lovely party."

Nabbit smiled nervously back at him. "Isn't it nice?"

Spike grimaced, "Where's the beer?"

Cordelia kicked him unobtrusively and he yelped a bit, then subsided. She lost focus, turning to look at another man. "Oh my god, is Wel Welling Harding?"

David Nabbit followed her gaze. "I…I…I have no idea. I don't know most of…these people. I…I don't even talk to them. They come to the party. I…I think they have fun." He offered them some appetizers. "These are crab."

Angel glanced at Spike, feeling the snarky amusement ready to spill forth from his childe. He needed to get out of here fast. Between Spike's sense of humor and Angel's growing hunger, this was not the place to be. "If this is a bad time we..."

Nabbit: "Oh, uhm, Miss Chase said that you could…only meet at night."

Angel agreed, "Yeah, it's more convenient..."

"And…and that we'd be less conspicuous during the party. I mean, I think it's good! We probably won't be interrupted…Well, I-I've always said that I would make a billion dollars in the Software market and, uh, learn to talk to girls. Still working on step two."

Angel needed to move this guy along as fast as possible, despite Cordelia's obvious delight to be in the middle of such wealth again. "So, why don't you tell us about your case?"

Nabbit looked uncomfortable as they all moved to the sofa. "Oh. Ah, my case. It, uh, somewhat has to do with…black…mail."

"Go on," Angel nodded.

Nabbit asked, "Are you familiar with Dungeons and Dragons?"

"Yeah. I've seen a few," Angel replied.

Spike snorted, swallowing a laugh.

Wesley cut in abruptly, "You mean the…ah, role playing game."

Angel looked up at Wesley, "Oh…game…right."

"Well, I used to play a lot in High School. You know, it was pretty cool," Nabbit said. "You get to be someone else for a while, a wizard, a warrior, you know, the whole world is magic, and fighting Troglodytes and romancing exotic - demon princesses and - you know, it's a rush!"

Cordelia asked, "Did someone find out you were a big nerd?"

Nabbit chuckled, "No that's…ah, that's actually public record. But…ah…some of us got *really* into it. Uh…specially the demon romance part. And then we heard about this place…where…the real... The guys were joking about getting some tail."

"You went to Madam Dorion's," Wesley said.

Nabbit stuttered nervously, "J-j-just once."

Angel glanced up at Wesley inquiringly.

Wesley explained, "It's a demon brothel."

Nabbit added, "Or twice."

"In Bel Air, I believe," Wesley continued. "The Watchers Council is *ripe* with stories about it."

Angel asked, "Ah…and how many..."

Nabbit blurted still more nervously, "Twelve…times."

Angel finished, "...people knew about you going?"

Nabbit answered, "Oh…ah, just my-my friends, but ah," he handed Angel a picture, "but my security guys already identified the guy with the…pictures. That's Lenny Edwards but…I just can't find him."

Angel put the picture of a smoking bald guy in jacket and got up, followed quickly by Spike. "Well, we'll see if we can do better."

Nabbit reiterated, "If…if my stockholders see these pictures..."

"They won't," Angel soothed, concentrating on getting out before he sank his fangs into one of the delectably nubile women walking around them so scantily dressed.

Cordy was focused on matters closer to her own heart, unaware of how conflicted her employer's was. "Don't worry. We are incredibly discreet. We'll - ah mingle here for a few hours, so no one suspects."

"Hey, David," said a particularly fine looking girl walking by. Angel could smell the blood beating throher her veins. She was healthy and young and just slightly tipsy and her heart was racing with the excitement ofng ang at the party, pumping that blood through her veins with power and youth and ferocious… *GOD! He had to get out of here!*

"Oh, hey. Nice-nice seeing you again. Yeah." He shrugged to Angel, Wesley and Spike. "I have no idea. When I moved to LA I thought it was all glamour and valet parking…but there is a *whole* world here that no one ever sees."

"More than one," Angel agreed, as he hurried out, pulling Spike and Wesley behind in his wake as if they were attach

*

Buffy was facing her most dire challenge in quite some time. She was ill equipped indeed to face this task, and none of her training thus far could have prepared her for what was yet to come. *How did I get myself into this?* She asked herself for the umpteenth time as she pushed the bandana higher up her forehead and balanced herself on the ladder in the great room.

*I should have just hired a cleaning service,* she thought to herself. *Sure, I've got time to kill with the guys gone, and yeah, didn't want to be feeling sorry for myself, blah, blibbity, blah, but WHAT was I thinking steam cleaning the entire mansion with only the occasional help of my friends?*

"Yo,fy, fy, where do you want me to dump the dirty water anyway? This kitchen sink looks way too clean for it," Xander's voice called from around the corner.

"Ick, no, Xand, Angel would gut me if I dumped that in his beaten copper sink! There's a utility room off of the kitchen, dump the used water down the drain in there, please. Thanks!" she called from her perch. *God, this ceiling is filthy! I bet no one has cleaned this place in decades! Well, duh, Buffy, vampires not exactly known for their cleanliness. Dwelling in shadows, yadda, yadda, yadda.*

Buffy balanced precariously near the top of the extension ladder that she had propped against the corner. One of the things she wanted to try was substituting the new UV glass films for the black out paint that Angel, or rather Angelus had painted over the windows with. If they were going to set up shop permanently here, it needed to be human friendly. And that meant sunlight. Not just for her, for her friends, too.

Buffy smiled cruelly, not realizing that at that moment, she looked more than a bit like Spike. She was going to test her theories out on a vampire she planned to capture. Nothing like havinset set of manacles and not using them. That way, she wouldn't have to risk harming her mates while she tried out the UV films. She waited for Xander to refill the steam cleaning tank so she could blast the chipping paint from the windows.

*

Angel and Spike stalked into Madam Dorion's. There were all types of demon girls sitting with customers.

Madam Dorion intercepted them as they wa dee deeper into the establishment. "We don't do vampires. Sorry."

"We just came to talk," Angel said.

The Madam smirked, "We don't do that either."

Angel showed her the picture. "His name is Lenny Edwards. You know him?"

"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," she replied, leading them toward the exit.

Angel: "You're discreet. That's good."

Madam: "Essential in my line of work."

Spike chimed in, "How bloody discreet would you say it is for one of your clients to be secretly photographed here - and then blackmailed?"

Madam: What?"

Angel noted, "Bad for business, I guess. You tell us where we can find Lenny Edwards and maybe we just might stop this before word hits the street."

Madam asked, "Who is the girl?"

Angel answered, "We don't know. But the client's name is David Nabbit."

"Lina!" Madam beckoned. A quilled demon came over. "Talk to Lina."

Lina ran a hand over Angel's chest: "Oh, he's a pretty one." Then she turned to Spike. "Mmm, and a blond, too?"

Madam said, "They're vampires, Lina."

"Really?" Lina asked, "Well, we can make an exception. Just don't do - that face thing, and we'll get along great." She turned around to face Madam Dorian holding up her hands. "Look, ma, no hands!"

Angel and Spike both looked down, and let out unnecessary breaths. Angel caught one of the girl's tails in his hand. Spike just let his head loll back, his face slack with pleasure and need as Lina caressed him with her other prehensile tail.

Madam: "That's not why they're here, Lina."

Angel sighed and held out the picture. "I'm looking for him?" Lina sighed as she continued to pleasure Spike, who was moaning slightly now. "I think your boss here would like you to co-operate."

Lina looked at her boss then back at Angel. "Vampires." She let go of Spike and he fell abruptly to his knees as the pressure that had been holding him up was removed.

"Jesus, Peaches, youldnuldn't have waited another few minutes to get all bloody noble? What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with this?"

*

Giles heart was in his mouth. He was more terrified than he'd been in years. "Buffy, get down this instant. This is insanity. Have you lost your mind entirely?"

He'd come in and nearly knocked her from her precarious position atop the rickety ladder where she was steam-cleaning debris from the admittedly nearly sparkling windows of the mansion. He'd no idea where this blasted domestic bent had arisen from but it was damned wrong. Slayers should slay. Well, slay and study. All right, slay and study and train. Well and he did want her to have a life outside of that, occasionally, with her friends…he supposed, so, well… bloody hell, anyway, that wasn't the point. The point was…domestic bliss wasn't the point. Especially not setting up house with two vampires.

At least, he didn't think that was the point. If he were honest with himself, Rupert knew that he should be pleased that Buffy was making an effort towards anything at all outside of brooding and slaying. She'd become so melancholy of late, so introspective and taciturn, completely unlike her former self. At least she was focused on a goal this way, even if the goal was…playing house with two vampires. Gods, was he really that pompous? He sounded like…an old man.

Still, seeing them with her in the kitchen, he'd been unable to tear his eyes away, despite feeling as if he was witnessing something more intimate than lovemaking, more private than death. The love, the soul-tearing, desperate need that shone with utter clarity from their eyes was enough to make him want to turn his head, ashamed to be the Watcher who had to document this, analyze it, dissect and critique it for posterity so that any and all who followed could know and understand how such a thing was even possible. He did his duty and Watched. He catalogued every heartbreaking, soul-shaking touch, each kiss, every tear from living and undead eyes alike.

His growing conviction frightened and confused him. Angel, he had understood, he thought, as an anomaly who nonetheless fit safely into the carefully patterned world of the Watchers and Slayers. Angel had a soul. Though not innocent, it was at least, human. He was demon and souled, and thus could feel, could love and hate, could be human in the sense that the Watchers understood humanity.

Angel had Marked Buffy as a vampire Marked a Mate. It was questionable whether the Marking had actually been performed with the demon completely in control or partially in control. Had Angelus been fully in control, Rupert assumed he would simply have Sired Buffy. So the soul must have prevented that, sick to death as Angel was. Thus Buffy's first tie to a vampire.

Spike, though, Spike could not feel, could he? Spike was soulless. Evil. He reveled in it. Enjoyed it. Always had. He took more simple pleasure in being a vampire than any that Rupert had ever had the misfortune to read about or meet. Buffy had remarked upon it on more than one occasion. Where Angelus had shown passion for torture, death and destruction, Spike simply showed joy, if a debased and evil joy.

He also showed a remarkable talent and capacity for tenderness for a demon (or human for that matter, certainly far more than Rupert's own father). He'd been amazingly faithful to Drusilla, and, Rupert understood, to Angelus, as well. And now, now he had mated himself to Buffy. Still evil, still soulless, he was tender to Buffy, protective of and caring to Buffy. Dare he say it, loving? Rupert shuddered at the thought.

He had Marked Buffy as Mate, as well. A Mark she clearly felt in some way, given her obvious ease with him, their physical closeness and camaraderie. Spike hadn't hunted since the chip was removed. Hadn't even tried, from all accounts. *Why? If the demon is, as we understand it, truly and completely evil, how could the bond with Buffy make it care? Why wouldn't it just continue to do as it pleases and damn the consequences? If it isn't evil, why has it acted so in the past? And if vampires aren't truly evil, then what are they? And what are the Slayers? Or the Watchers?*

*

Lenny was about to get in his car when Angel came up behind him.

"What do you want?" Lenny sneered.

"Big question. What do I want?" Angel thought for a moment. "Love…family…a place on this planet I can call my own…but you know what?"

Lenny, "What?"

"I'm never going to have any of those things. - And unless these next few minutes go exactly the way I want them to, neither are you. - Where are the pictures of David Nabbit?"

"Never heard of him."

"Oh-ho, you only get one lie." Angel said. "I probably should have mentioned that first."

Lenny patted Angel on the shoulder: "Look, pal, you're obviously not from around here. But trust me - you do *not* want to see my bad side."

"You show me yours," Angel vamped out, "I show you mine." He grabbed Lenny and pushed him up against the car. "Okay, so for the moment I'm from around here. In fact, I'm moving in. Taking over, you understand me? I will dog you every night for the rest of your very s lif life until you bring me what I want. Are we clear?" Lenny nodded frantically. "Yeah. See you tomorrow."

Angel gave Lenny a last shove. Lenny turned to unlock his car door, then looked back. Angel was gone. Lenny got in the car and drove off.

Wesley and Cordelia were standing in front of David Nabbit while he wrote out a check.

"Ah," he said. "This should take care of your expenses to date. I want you to know I really appreciate what you did at the party."

"At the party?" Wesley asked. Nabbit nodded and Wesley and Cordy looked at each other. "What we did at the party?"

"It was a wonderful party," Cordy added.

"We talked," said Nabbit, "We had some good times. It meant a lot to me."

"Oh," Cordy said, at a loss for words.

Wesley interjected, "Yes, but…you were paying us to be there."

Nabbit noted, "I do that all the time. But you guys actually hung with me. It was, it was special."

He held the check out to Wesley, but Cordy grabbed it.

Cordy said, "I'm in charge of the..."

She saw the amount of the check and, speechless, showed it to Wesley.

Wesley gawked, "Good Lord. I think there must be some mistake."

Cordy cut in quickly, "I'm sure Mr. Nabbit knows how to write a check."

Nabbit, "No, there is no mistake. ust…ust…believe in rewarding good work."

"This is amazingly generous, Mr. Nabbit, but…we are really not finished with the job," Wesley said.

Nabbit noted, "It's only money, and I got sack-fulls, and it's…it's David. You guys call me David, okay?"

Cordy chimed in, "I like David. It's such a…strong, masculine name." He grinned at her. "It just feels…good in your mouth."

"Well, David, you won't be disappointed." Wesley cut in before Cordelia could embarrass them further. "We'll earn every cent of your generous confidence in our firm."

"Bye," Cordy said.

Nabbit, "Bye."

Wesley hissed at Cordy as he dragged her out, "Feels good in your mouth?"

Cordy blushed, "I was flustered!"

*

Buffy had finally finished cleaning the ceiling and windows. It had taken a solid week of back-breaking work, but it was worth it. The room glowed. The marble had taken on a luster she wouldn't have believed possible. She'd even called in a professional chimney company to clean out the capacious fireplace and lay in a good supply of nicely seasoned wood for her. The place looked amazing. She ached in every muscle in her body, but it was a satisfying ache.

She felt…good. It was odd. She hadn't neglected her patrols while she'd been immersed in this project, nor had she neglected her friends, though they'd gotten sucked into it with her, much to their chagrin. Poor Xander, she thought. Making him clean Angel's mansion *was* a bit mean, but hey, he owed her for that crack in the cemetery. He was being all nice about it, though, so she forgave him, especially after he scrubbed the entire floor on his hands and knees. He'd barely been able to straighten his back that day and his hands and knees had bled by the end of it. Almost as if he'd been doing penance or something…whatever...she accepted the apology. It was time to move on.

Willow had suggested using magic to speed things along, but Buffy had wanted to do things the old-fashioned way, with soap and water and her own two hands…well, and a steam blaster thingy. Hey, it's not quite the dark ages! Tonight, though, tonight was time to get the last piece for her teThe The film was up, everything was in place. She hadn't told Giles about this part. She knew he'd assumed that she would simply replace the black-out shades. But Buffy wanted more. She wanted to dwell in both worlds, bridge both of them with her lovers. And to do that, she had to try her experiment. So…tonight the Slayer was going to capture, not kill…

*

Lenny was sitting on the hood of his car holding a brown manila envelope in his hands, looking around. Suddenly Angel was there. "You're a sneaky son of a bitch, aren't you?"

Angel just looked at him "You brought the photographs?"

Lenny held up the envelope. "Of course I brought them…and a little something extra."

A gray skinned demon appeared next to Angel and hit him hard enough that he flew a few feet backwards through the air.

Lenny smirked. "Love that."

Angel and the demon fought. The demon was at least as strong as Angel, especially since the dark vampire hadn't fed for a week. The amazing strength imparted by Buffy's Slayer blood was enough to keep him fighting…barely, but he struggled to stay on his feet. The demon threw him into Lenny and he dropped the envelope. Angel grabbed desperately for it and stuffed it into his coat.

"Whatever he's paying you isn't enough, is it, big fellow?" Lenny laughed, not realizing that Spike was right behind him. Lenny ran, with Spike chasing him as Angel swung around a lamp post and continued to fight the demon. He managed to break the demon's neck and paused for a moment. He was dripping blood from his broken ribs, one of which had punctured the skin. Trying to recover his waning strength from the fight was hard with him so weak from lack of blood. He pressed on the wound and waited for his childe to return. Eventually, Spike came back, smiling with vicious glee and wiping the last traces of Lenny from his mouth.

"Don't think he'll be any trouble to anyone round here again, Sire. You OK?"

"I'm fine, Spike, just hungry and tired. Let's get out of here."

*

Buffy stalked through the cemetery, intent on finding a fledgling who wouldn't give her too much trouble. It had been very slow in Sunnydale this past week, so slow that she suspected her lovers of hunting out the remaining vampires and scaring them out of town. It would be just like them to leave her with nothing to do. Luckily, she could always count on Sunnydale to provide a few new ones for entertainment value, she thought as a young man crawled snarling from his grave.

Suppressing her instinctual need to stake him, Buffy clubbed him over the head instead, knocking him unconscious with one hard blow. She hefted his considerable bulk over her shoulder and began the long walk back to the mansion. *I've really got to learn how to drive,* she thought as the miles stretched out before her.

*

Wesley and Cordy looked over the pictures that Angel recovered while Spike strapped his Sire's broken ribs tightly. Angel hissed in pain.

"That's very nice work. I'm sure Nabbit will be greatly relieved to get these back," Wesley said. He sat down next to Angel on the edge of the desk, looking at one of the pictures) "Oh my."

Spike glanced at it casually, "It's upside down."

Wesley turned the picture around and they both looked at it. "Certainly not something one would want framed."

Cordy said, "How does it feel?"

Wesley replied, "I can't possibly imagine it's pleasant."

Angel nodded, "Ew."

"I'm talking to Angel," Cordy said.

Angel and Wesley looked at her.

Wesley blushed, "Oh, right. Sorry."

Angel got up and took his shirt from Spike. "It feels," he winced as he pulled it on. "It feels better. Thank you, Childe." He turned his head to Spike and brushed a kiss against his mouth.

Spike kissed him back harder and growled, "Liar."

Now it was Cordy's turn to blush. She'd never seen Angel and Spike…together before like that. It was…surprisingly hot! "You should rest. You look like..."

Angel turned his head to her, still leaning into the shorter blond man. "Like I've been beaten?"

"It's just…I've seen you take much worse and bounce back much faster. What gives? Do you want to see the check again?"

"It's the blood," Spike growlet~o{troking his sire's face with a deceptively gentle hand despite his harsh words. "Stupid ponce can't have any blood for another 5 days. He's starvin' himself for this damned ritual. No blood, no healin'. Our bodies aren't alive. They can't heal on their own. Not at all. They don't get well. Only blood fixes 'em. Without it…we stay exactly the same as when we were hurt. Actually worse, in a way, since the energy we use up by walking, running, talking, takes more out of us every moment. He's starvin'…wastin' away standin' here. "

*

Wesley stared at the whipped cream mounded on top of the cup he received from a street vendor. "I asked for a coffee. I know it must be in here someplace. Are you alright? You haven't said two words since we left the office."

"Oh, I was just thinking about Angel," Cordyliedlied.

Wesley nodded. "YeThe The beating was pretty awful. We don't realize how much damage he takes when he fights because he heals so quickly. It doesn't mean that he doesn't feel the pain just as much as we do, though."

"Actually, I was thinking about him and Spike. Can you believe they're actually together again?"

Tsat sat down on a park bench. "Well, they were together from the time Angelus turned Spike in the eighteen-seventies until he was cursed with his soul…more than a quarter century, I believe. Longer than most marriages last today. It certainly gives one a sense of perspective, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does," Cordy replied. "And I think, perspectively speaking, I might want to…prostitute myself to billionaire David Nabbit."

Wesley choked on his coffee. "Cordelia!"

Cordy said, "What I mean is…he's a nice guy who wants companionship. I could use some security. So when I say 'prostitute' what I mean is.."

"Prostitute."

"For instance..." her voice trailed off.

Wesley looked at her. "Do you think you really could?"

"I don't know." She paused, thinking about it. "I could probably learn to love him. Looks aren't everything…or chemistry…personality, that's important. And except for a lot of other…It's not what's on the outside that…Yeah. Never mind. I'm *fine* here. Poor…alone."

*

Alone, Buffy watched, eyes hooded as the vampire screamed in hopeless agony. The light hit it fully and it wailed. Then stopped. Its skin wasn't burning, as it so clearly expected. Wasn't even smoking. It waved its arms under the burning rays from the gleaming front windows and capered about as much as the manacles would allow.

Bwah ha ha! "I'm immune! I can stand the sunlight and live," it shouted.

Buffy nodded at him. "You should go tell all your friends." She unfastened his manacles and opened the front door. He raced outside into the direct noon sun and fried instantly.

That took care of that. Now to start on the kitchen windows. That room was going to take forever…

To be continued...