Document--Angelus

Document--Angelus, 5/?
By Scribe

Giles looked at Buffy. "Where is he staying?"

She was very pale, staring at the severed head. "I don't know."

"Buffy!" Xander growled.

"I don't know!" she snapped. "He moved awhile back. I went to his old place a couple of times, and he wasn't there, and he wouldn't tell me where he'd moveAnd And even if I knew, do you really think that he'd go back there now?"

Willow had her face hidden against Oz's shoulder. She whispered, "What... what are we going to do?"

Giles took a shaky breath. "We're going to call the police immediately."

"We can't do that!" protested Cordelia.

"We can't not do it. Knowing Angelus he has left the rest of this boy where it will be easily found, and the police will be very hot to find the head. With the forensics available these days, there is no way we can be sure that they won't find some trace, and it will be much easier to explain how it came flying through the window, courtesy of the murderer, than it would be to explain why we hadn't reported it. You lot get your stories straight among yourself. I can't say what you were up to, since I was back in the stacks doing research."

He went to the desk and picked up the phone. "We have been having a study session--chemistry and literature, I think. We have textbooks over there for both. Go spread them out. When they arrive, we tell them exactly what happened--since we have been here, but we have no idea who did this hideous thing." He punched in 911. "Officer? This is Rupert Giles at Sunnydale High. Something hideous has happened. Someone has been killed. No, I didn't see it. Oh, God!" His voice was genuinely distressed. "A head... A human head was thrown through the library window. Yes, a head! I'm supervising a study group, and I'm worried about the students. Please, get someone here immediately. That maniac may still be nearby. Yes, I'll stay on the line."

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

Drucilla was staring up at the ceiling of the factory, her piquant features set in a pout. Spike came up behind her, putting his arms around her waist. "Dru, luv, you aren't sulking again about the same old thing?"

The dark haired vampiress glared at the thick planks that made a large, rough square on the metal ceiling. "I can't see the stars, Spike. I can hear them, but I can't see them." She turned in his arms, pressing against him and purring, "Take down the nasty planks."

Spike sighed. "We've been over this before. The skylight has to be blocked."

Drucilla stamped one dainty foot. Spike couldn't swear that she had intentionally caught his toes, but there was a possibility that it hadn't ENTIRELY been an accident. "But I feel stifled! I want to see the sky, and with that lovely glass in the ceiling the star shine could come right through."

"And so could the sunlight," Spike said bluntly.

Drucilla sighed. "Feh. Nasty sunlight. I wish I could send it away, so that we'd only have lovely, lovely moonlight, all the time." She looked at the doll cradled in her arms. "Yes, Miss Edith? Some day, perhaps." She looked back at Spike. "Spike, when will we meet others of our kind here?"

"I dunno, pet. Soon, I suppose."

"But why don't we seek them out? There must be others here." She pulled away and twirled slowly, hair swirling about her shoulders. "I can feel them, all around."

"Yes, but they're not our kind, luv. Nothing but half-brained minions and fledges, most of 'em."

"Not all of them, Spike."

The voice was deep, dark, and very familiar. It made Spike freeze, but Drucilla seemed suddenly energized. She almost vibrated with eagerness as she looked about eagerly. "Daddy?" Angelus stepped from the shadows, and the vampiress ran to him, leaving behind a still, silent Spike. She threw herself into Angelus' arms with a glad cry. "Oh, Daddy, you're back! You've come back to us, haven't you?"

Spike approached more slowly. "Hang on, Dru. How do we know it's Angelus, and not that self-torturing git, Angel?"

Angelus smiled at him, flashing his game face. set Drucilla aside, and lifted his hands. They were coated in blood past the wrists. "I could have brought physical proof, but I used it to send a little announcement to the Slayer and her entourage."

"And how do we know that isn't from some demon, or another vamp? How do we know it isn't that cow or pig swill you drink?"

Angel glided over to him. "Well, there are a couple of ways to find out." He suddenly grabbed the back of Spike's head and clamped his free hand over the other's mouth and nose. Spike scrabbled at Angelus' arm, but couldn't pull it down. "You can tell by scent," he scrubbed his hand hard over Spike's mouth, "or you can tell by taste." He released him with a push."

Spike's game face had emerged, too. His nostrils flared, drinking the scent, and it was unmistakable as human blood. His tongue darted out, swiping at the sticky, gelid maroon smears, and his fangs slid out. "Yeah, it's human. A bit cold, but human. Whose is it?"

Angelus shrugged. "I didn't catch his name. Does it matter if it isn't one of those idiotic Scoobies?" He smiled at Drucilla, who was sniffing hungrily. He offered her his hand. "Dearest?" Drucilla gripped his wrist and began to lick his hand clean, pink tongue working industriously.

"Well, what brings you back?" said Spike, trying to ignore the low purr that Drucilla had started to make.

Angelus shrugged. "The usual--a moment of unadulterated, sheer happiness. This time it was chemically induced, but apparently it still counts." Drucilla had slid one of his fingers into her mouth and was sucking it softly. "I can't tell you how happy I am that you two are still in town. I was afraid I was going to have to go look for you, and since I REALLY want to stay and fuck with the Slayer, that would have been very irritating."

Drucilla pulled back, giving Angelus' now clean hand a final, lavish lick, and leaned her cheek into his palm. "Will we be playing with the nasty Slayer, Daddy? Will there be games?"

Angelus caressed her, hand sliding sensually back into her hair. "Oh, yes, pet. Her, and her little friends. Do you remember the Watcher?"

Spike snorted. "The one who pinned you to the wall, then beat you silly with a lit torch? Yeah, he kind of sticks out in the memory."

Angelus snarled. "I owe him heavily, and I know just the way to pay him back." He gave a feral smile. "While giving myself an enormous treat."

Dru danced excitedly. "Tell! Tell!"

"Oh, no! This is going to be a surprise, all the way around." He smiled. "Well, I think the Watcher may be expecting something along the lines of what I have planned," he gave Spike a fanged grin as his hand suddenly tightened in Drucilla's hair, bending her back till her throat was a pale arch, "but I believe I still have trick or two to keep me ahead of him. I'm good at keeping people off-balance." He bent and bit Drucilla.

Spike stiffened in angry shock, and started toward them. But after the brief cry of pain, Drucilla gave a low, liquid moan, and reached up to hold Angelus, giving herself over to the sensual pain of her master's violent caress. Angelus didn't need to drink from Drucilla--he'd obviously fed well recently. But he had been gone for awhile, and felt that Drucilla, and especially Spike, had begun to feel too independent. He was asserting his ownership, and power, in the most primal way that a vampire could. *If they have any sense,* Spike thought sourly, *They'll clear out--the lot of them.*

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

The time spent with the police had been tense, but there didn't seem to be any suspicion that one of their group was in any way responsible for what had happened. As Giles had predicted, the boy's body had been left where he would be easily discovered--spread out on his front lawn. Since this was a fair distance from the high school, the authorities thought it unlikely that the group had been involved in any manner but the obvious one.

All of them professed bewilderment at what could have possibly have caused such a horror. All save Xander. He stated loudly and clearly that he was of the opinion that it was casued by UFOs. He was promptly ignored. When Cordelia had hissed at him about this, he'd whispered back that the cops in Sunnydale made careers out of ignoring supernatural happenings, and he figured that the surest way to get them to stop paying attention was to attribute an incident to something out of the ordinary.

After giving their statements, they'd adjourned to the town's only all-night coffee shop for a brief consultation before heading home. Huddled in a booth, ignoring cooling cups of coffee, they tried to decide what to do next. Giles said, "We will escort the girls home, of course. And as much as I hate to bring this up, I must. What about our families?"

"Giles is right," said Buffy grimly. "It's one of Angelus' favorite tactics, going for his targets' loved ones. Mom had to go out of town on business, so I don't have to worry about her."

"My parents are gone, as usual," saif Willow. "Egypt this time, I think. I'd have to check the list of numbers they left."

"Willow, I believe you should stay with Buffy untill this is settled. The fewer areas that have to be secured, the less chance there is he'll find a weak spot," said Giles. "Cordelia?"

"There's no way Daddy would agree to that," she said flatly. "But I never invited any of the Fanged Fiends into my home, so I just have to be careful coming and going. They won't be able to get in without permission, and I'm damn sure not going to give it, and as for my Dad..." She snorted. "Someone who looked like Angelus? He'd let Charles Manson in first."

Giles looked at Xander. "Xander?"

"He's welcome to whatever he can find in my house," said the boy tartly.

"Xander!" Willow protested. "Your Mom and Dad."

He gave her a bleak look, but shrugged. "I carved crosses into all the door and window frames awhile back. I'll lay a holy water drip at the entrances for added safety. They might not even be home much the next couple of days. The income tax return check that had been delayed finally came in, and they haven't had a chance to drink it up yet. Oz, that place you're staying at can't be counted as a private home, and I doubt you could vamp-proof it, at least not without having the owners have you hauled away for either lunacy or destruction of property. I have a couch in the basement, if you want to stay." Oz nodded his thanks.

"Well, that covers everyone who might be in danger," said Cordelia. Giles cleared his throat. "What?"

Xander had noticed Giles distressed expression. "For someone so fluffy, you can be pretty dense. What about Giles' near-and-dear?"

Cordelia frowed. "Angelus isn't likely to fly all the way over to England to... Ow! Who kicked me?" She glared around accusingly.

No one confessed, but Willow looked at Giles. "Do you really think he'd go after her?"

Giles looked grim. "He's tasted her blood. I'd be shocked if he didn't go after her."

"Her? Who do you...? Oh." Cordialia sat back, looking a little blank. "Miss Scribe? You think that Angelus would go after an ENGLISH teacher?"

"The last I had heard," said Giles dryly, "a person's profession did not affect their desirability as vampire prey. We've got to do something to protect her, but what? We can't very well just show up and begin nailing up crosses."

"But she knows about vampires," observed Oz.

"Yes," said Buffy, "But she isn't prepared to deal with something like Angelus. We don't want to scare her."

"Do you know what you sound like?" said Xander. "You sound like every idiotic cop, sheriff and government agent in every horror, science-fiction, or murder movie who ever refused to a the the public to danger because they might panic. It's stupid!"

"There is a more sensible reason to refrain," said Giles. "She's only known him as Angel, and she's irritated with us right now..." Xander and Cordelia cleared their throats. "Oh, all right--she's irritated with me. And besides, she wants to help. I doubt that we'd be able to persuade her to stay safely behind thick, cross decorated, garlic festooned walls. No, we need to get her out of town for a few days." His eyes lit up. "And I know exactly how to do it."

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

Scribe finished erasing the board, grateful that she'd done her paper grading at lunch. That left her whole weekend free of school work. *Not that that means anything,* she thought wryly. *It isn't as if I have a social whirl planned. I just hope that they change the features at the closest movie theater. I swear, if they hold over that noisy action shoot-em-up, I'll just beat my head against a wall. I'll get the same effect as going to see it--numbness and ringing ears.*

Giles appeared in the doorway, and hesitated there. She felt a brief flick of irritation, followed immediately by a stronger stab of annoyance with herself. She had quickly realized that she was, in effect, punishing him for worrying about her. After all, she had yet to prove to them that she wouldn't be a liability. Yes, she'd realized that, and held no resentment toward him or the children, but her pride hadn't let her go to them to make ammends.

Giles said, "Scribe, I need to speak to you."

She wanted to make ammends, show him she was willing to try, so she said lightly, "Well, it's Friday afternoon, so I hope this doesn't mean I'm going to be stuck with school business."

"Er... actually..."

She stopped in mid-stroke, lowering the eraser. "Oh, don't tell me, let me guess. There's an emergency drama competition, and they need me to ride herd on three or four drama clubs."

"Good God, do I really seem that cruel? No, it is important, and a bit of an imposition, but it shouldn't prove an unpleasant one. I need you to go to the librarian conference in San Francisco this weekend."

She blinked at him. "Several questions come to mind. To start with, I'm not a librarian."

"That's all right--you're staff, and having a degree in literature is a plus. You'll basically just have to tape record lectures and bring me piles and piles of brouchures, leaflets, and otherwise useless bits of paper. The main thing is having a representative of Sunnydale present."

"But I thought you were going?"

"I was. I can't. Long story."

She blinked again. "Now you're channeling Ernest Hemmingway, and I have to tell you that he's pretty much my least favorite author. I don't mind quiet, but terse rankles."

He rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, but it really would be difficult to explain. I need you to attend that confer in in my place."

"But a weekend trip... And it's a three day conference, starting Saturday. I have classes Monday."

"Which I will happily take for you. I've already spoken to the principal, and he's given his approval. Actually, that wasn't really in question--we have to have someone attend this conference, or our funds for library operations and book acquisitions will drop by a hefty thirty per cent. Scribe, I know that we haven't exactly had smooth relations lately, but this is important."

She looked at him shrewdly. He looked very tired, the skin around his eyes tight with strain. "Does it have anything to do with the rumors that have been circulating about what happened in the library last night?" Giles was silent. "No, I don't know exactly what happened, but the rumor mill has been going wild. Some claim that it was nothing more than one of the windows getting shot out. Someone else says that a body was dumped. Someone ELSE ammended that to say that it was body PARTS that were dumped, and speculation has been rife about WHICH body parts it was. Genitalia is being highly favored, but most people don't believe those would be heavy enough to break the glass, so..."

"Scribe, I can't discuss this with you. For one thing, the police would object, and for another... I'd really rather not be responsible for your next week or so of nightmares. Let's just say that having you out of town for the next couple of days would relieve a lot of anxiety, and probably make it much easier for me to deal with what's going on."

She nodded slowly. "All right." She smiled. "And I don't suppose I'll get many other offers for a paid weekend in one of the tourist capitals of America. When does my plane leave?"

Giles looked at his watch. "Three hours. It only takes twenty minutes to get to the airport, so that leaves you..."

She snatched up her purse. "Not nearly enough time! Jesus, Giles, you're lucky I'm not the clubbing type, or I'd never make it."

As she slid past him he turned to follow her, saying, "I'll come along, to make sure you get there on time."

"Fine, tag along, but if you think that you're going to stand there and watch me shove my undies in the case, you're sadly mistaken."

As he followed her he thought, *It's a measure of how disturbed I am that that comment didn't even raise the slightest bit of titilation.*