Boats Against the Current

Boats Against the Current (Chapter Six)

Thankfully, it was Spike outside the door.

“What is it, boy?” Angel growled.

A slow appraising slide of eyes over his body followed and for a moment, they were both lost in the past. But those days were gone and neither liked the taste of nostalgia much, so the moment ended.

“I wouldn’t have interrupted, but the whelp insisted. Seems Madame Blavatsky had another vision.”

This might actually have been a good enough reason for interrupting his tryst with Willow, though only just barely. Perhaps this vision would clarify the topsy-turvy way things had been proceeding since their return to Sunnydale. Angel certainly hoped that was the case.

“Where is she?”

“She and Chubs are still downtown. Apparently she had her latest fit right in the middle of the Espresso Pump.”

“I’ll go get her,” Willow said from the bed behind Angel. “I’ll take my parents’ car.”

“You’ll take your car. It’s not as if we’re hiding our relationship anymore.”

“Have you forgotten about Buffy? What if she sees me?”

Angel, in all honesty, thought it was high time for Buffy to learn the truth. If Xander could somehow bear up under the weight of revealed reality, surely Buffy – now hanging on a brand new arm – could manage to do the same. While he could see the merits inherent in the case for continued dissemblance, he was tired of catering to Buffy’s presumed weaknesses. Wasn’t it possible she was a mature adult now? Or at least that she could become one were she to be treated as such?

“You’ll take your car.” His voice was pure demon and the argument was now officially concluded.

Spike hid a smirk, apparently enjoying seeing someone else capitulate under the weight of Angel’s authority.

“You can leave,” Angel addressed Spike now and he did as he was told. Angel closed the door and turned back to Willow.

She got up and, throwing off the bedspread, began to dress.

“Are you upset?” he asked, after a few seconds.

“A little bit. I’m not totally okay with the ‘being ordered around’ thing, you know?”

“I’m a demon,” he said, as if it explained everything. Because honestly it did.

“I know. And I know that this doesn’t seem wrong to you. But I was raised…well, sort of raised anyway…to be independent and make my own decisions. It’s uncomfortable for me, this whole idea of belonging to someone and letting them be in charge.”

“I love you.”

“I know you do. I love you, too. I guess I thought…I don’t know what I thought, because it’s not like I ever thought you were anything like Oz…I just…this is hard for me, okay? And I need you to understand that.”

The reminder of her faithless milquetoast of an ex-lover was anything but pleasant, but at least he wasn’t referenced in a way that implied that Angel was being compared and found wanting. Still…no, he wasn’t happy that she’d broached that topic at all.

“You knew what I was from the beginning. I’ve never pretended to be anything else.” Not with you, he added to himself.

“I know.” She sat down on the bed and motioned for him sit beside her. “And I don’t mind, at least not all the time. It’s just…sometimes I get a little overwhelmed. This isn’t who I’ve always thought I was and it’s hard…” She took his hand and gazed into his eyes, begging him for compassion and forbearance.

He rewarded her with what she sought, putting his arms around her and holding her close. Willow had given him so much; it would be churlish of him not to appreciate the difficult adjustment she had to make in order to have a relationship with him. She’d made an excellent point. Her life had been building her towards independence. Asking her to renounce her personal sovereignty in order to belong to him? That was no insignificant thing.

Soon, however, they both realized that the analysis of their relationship needed to give way to Willow’s departure to fetch Cordelia. “I’ll take my car,” she said in mock annoyance as she left the room, and Angel smiled. He heard the sound of her footsteps as she went downstairs and then headed out the back door and to the garage.

He got up from the bed and retrieved his own clothes from the closet, disdaining the clothes he’d discarded earlier. They were wrinkled now and frankly, Angel did care about his appearance too much to be seen in disheveled attire.

“You decent, Peaches?” The sharply sarcastic voice of Spike broke through what was left of his reverie. This time there was no knock before his childe’s entry into the room.

“What do you care, boy? You didn’t seem to mind earlier.” Angel decided to have a bit of fun. There was no harm in it.

“Been there, done that, and it was nothing to write home about,” Spike jibed right back. If there was one thing that could be said for him, he gave as good as he got.

“Funny, I never heard any complaints from you before.”

Spike looked away for a second and Angel intuited that he might have taken the teasing a bit far. He knew what it was like to be alone himself, and now might not be the best time for this sort of humour. Willow wasn’t the only one who was changing, he realized, as it dawned on him that he was suddenly solicitous of Spike’s feelings. How had that come to pass?

“Did Xander tell you anything about the vision?” A jarring segue out of the previous japery, but it served.

“No. He was too busy panicking. I think those two are made for each other. They’re both bloody useless if you ask me.”

Angel was hardly one to contradict him, though Cordelia was his seer and Xander had come around blessedly easily to the idea of accepting Angel’s relationship with Willow. “I doubt Anya will see it that way.”

“That chit needs a kick up the arse. Bein’ a demon’s no excuse for her.”

Another point on which he and Spike were in complete accord. Still, a brouhaha over the affections of Xander Harris was hardly conducive to harmony within the ranks as they dealt with Adam. Anya’s loyalty to the human race was nonexistent, no matter her current status, and Angel was not in the least convinced that she wouldn’t eagerly play the distaff version of Benedict Arnold.

Well, borrowing trouble was foolish, especially considering how much they already had, so he’d worry about Anya when and if need be. For right now, he’d focus on what Cordelia’s vision might be.

Spike, naturally, had his own ideas and volunteered them without the slightest prompting. “I’ll wager Sybil Leek staged this whole thing,” he sneered. “Probably did it all just to fall into the whelp’s arms.” He began mincing around the room before collapsing in an untidy heap. “Oh, Xander, you big, strong hunk of a man, you.” Spike’s voice was a giddy falsetto as he leaned dramatically against the bed. “These visions bestowed on me by the Powers That Be just take so much out of poor, gorgeous, fashionable me.”

Angel couldn’t help but chuckle. Spike’s impersonation of Cordelia was mean-spirited, but not inaccurate. Still, he gave the girl a bit more credit than Spike did. He was reasonably certain she was above faking a vision. “I’m pretty sure this is the real deal, Spike.”

“Yeah, maybe. Still, you place a lot more stock in the value of all that hocus pocus than I do. Her visions are clear as mud most times. No details…might as well grab yourself a Ouija Board and a group of ten year olds to man the pointer for all the good they do you.”

There was no real point in butting heads over that. While, in the main, Angel concurred, there was still a certain amount of value to the visions, not the least being that they used to be Doyle’s. Angel still mourned the loss of his friend deeply.

He was surprised to hear the sound of three sets of footsteps in the house so soon, but it was true: Willow and the others had returned. Angel and Spike headed downstairs.

“Mr. Macho-Vamp is so not going to let you out of his sight if we tell him. Are you sure I shouldn’t just make something up?” Cordelia whispered just as he entered the living room. She caught sight of him and plastered a toothpaste smile on her face. “Angel! Hi!”

“What was the vision, Cordelia?” Angel asked, letting her know by his tone that prevarication was not an option.

“Tell him,” Willow added.

“Fine, but when he locks you in your room and doesn’t let you out ‘til it’s time to head back to L.A., don’t blame me.”

“Cordelia,” Angel growled.

“Okay, it’s about Willow.”

“We figured that out already, Miss Cleo, but thanks,” Spike interposed, his sarcasm leavened by a healthy dollop of concern.

Cordelia glared, but continued. “This made about as much sense as every other vision I’ve had, but what I can remember is seeing Willow and then this shadowy figure and I just got this sense that it’s someone she knows and there’s going to be trouble.”

Neither Angel nor Spike were exactly surprised, but the fact that this vision seemed to involve Willow exclusively was disturbing.

“It’s Riley. I’m telling you, it’s got to be Riley,” Xander said. “As far as shadowy, menacing creeps go, he’s the shadowiest and menacingest.” Ungrammatical, to be sure, but Xander’s point was well taken. There was no telling what Riley and his cohorts might want to do to a blossoming witch.

“Xander, he’s Buffy’s boyfriend. And we were even sort of friends before I left. I don’t think it’s him. I’m sure this is no big deal. It’s probably something about the fight with Adam and we’re all in danger from that.”

“Willow, you know that’s not it,” Cordelia argued. “I wouldn’t have seen just you. And this wasn’t Adam. I got a totally different feeling from this guy. You know him.” Her earlier desire to keep Angel in the dark seemed to have vanished completely and she was now as alarmist as could be.

“Thanks for not worrying Angel,” Willow offered with some venom.

“What? If I’m going to tell the truth, I’m going to tell all of it.” There were times when Cordelia’s gracelessness was a virtue.

“I’m all aboard the ‘let’s keep Deadboy in the loop’ train here, Wills. At least he doesn’t think Riley being Buffy’s boyfriend makes him oh so peachy keen. No offense, but you do have a wacky tendency to see the good in people who aren’t so good. Remember Malcolm?”

The name didn’t immediately register with Angel and Spike looked utterly perplexed, but Willow’s cheeks flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “That was in high school, Xander! And how was I supposed to know he was Moloch the Corruptor?”

“And that’s my point!”

“Like you knew!”

“I knew he was a wrong guy!”

“Because you thought there had to be something wrong with any guy who was interested in me!”

Another few seconds of Willow being abused and Angel was going to intervene. While he was refraining in deference to her expressed need for a bit of a compromise on his part in terms of displaying his dominance, there was a limit to what he was willing to stand.

“Hey!” Cordelia blessedly interrupted. “This is so off-topic.”

While Angel wasn’t so sure it wasn’t germane, he was still glad to have this argument conclude for reasons even beyond his ire at seeing Willow rounded on in such a fashion. He vaguely recalled the Moloch incident, though he’d had little involvement with it beyond hearing pieces of the story from Buffy, and he was not at all comfortable with the fact that Willow had been in so much danger without him doing a damn thing to protect her. Logically, it wasn’t as if he and Willow had even been more than acquaintances at that time, nonetheless, it hurt Angel to think of her being manipulated and deceived by that hideous creature while he did nothing to help.

“You got involved with Moloch the Corruptor? How the devil did you meet him?” Thanks for reopening the subject, Spike.

“Long, boring, unimportant story we won’t be telling which involved internet chat rooms and other unsavory places that Willow is now smart enough not to visit.” And thank you for re-ending the topic, Xander, though the boy could have been more charitable to Willow. If he shot his mouth off again, Angel was going to make sure to bring up one or two incidents from Xander’s past. Buffy had related one particularly colourful episode involving a giant insect that preyed on virgins…

Willow looked somewhat crestfallen, but on the other hand, she seemed no more desirous of continuing this discussion than Angel was. He watched, waiting for her to rebound, but she didn’t, and he realized that this reminder of her vulnerability and of what she must have seen as her own stupidity had embarrassed her more than he’d originally thought. He gritted his teeth, willing his fangs not to drop and his true face not to emerge as he went to her and took her in his arm. Thankfully, that was something he could now do with impunity.

“Don’t let him bother you,” Angel whispered. “You have a good heart and that’s one of the things I love best about you.” He meant it, too. For all his own cold distance, he cherished the warm and trusting friendliness that was as natural to her as breathing.

He felt her fractionally relax in his arms and he smiled. Love might not cure everything, but it could cure any harm inflicted by the thoughtlessness of Xander Harris.

“So if it isn’t Riley, who do you think the shadowy figure is?” Excellent question and Angel was glad Spike posed it. This was one area where brainstorming might actually be useful, especially since Cordelia and Xander had both known Willow for long enough to have some excellent ideas.

“I don’t know.” Willow’s voice was low and uncertain as she stepped away from him and grew thoughtful. “I don’t think I have any enemies. I mean, I’m pretty sure no one’s still mad at me for blowing the grade curve or anything.” She stumbled over her attempt at levity.

“It could be someone you would never think of,” Angel offered.

“But how could I not know if they have a reason to want to hurt me?” Willow was logical, but linear. It would have surprised him but for the fact that her own desire not to be worried about would make her reluctant to reason along lines that put her front and center as a target of attack.

A glare from Angel kept Spike and Cordelia and even Xander from saying anything to contradict her. She had gone through enough tonight. He could tell that the vision and the argument with Xander were weighing on her.

“Are you okay, Cordy?” Xander asked, deflecting attention from Willow.

“Yeah, thanks. Willow worked the Wiccan-y mojo and I’m just fine.” She favored Xander with a soft, fond look and Angel felt his gorge rise. Spike stuck his finger down his throat and made a gagging noise, quickly disrupting whatever sentimental mood the pair had gotten caught up in.

It suddenly occurred to Angel that, whether Riley was the danger Willow faced or not, there was something she and the others still needed to know about the man. “There’s something you guys need to know,” he said, locking eyes with Spike, who understood immediately what he was about to reveal. “Riley might not be completely human.”

Pandemonium, or something rather like it, suddenly erupted in Willow’s living room.

“What do you mean ‘not completely human’?” Willow finally asked when the din died down.

“I’m not sure. I only know that he smells…off. He’s human, there’s just something…wrong.”

“And may I be the first one to raise his hand and say ‘I told you so’?” Xander piped up.

Angel was too distracted to even groan at the boy’s latest foolishness. Something was coalescing in his mind. Something to do with Riley’s scent… “It’s kind of like the way Spike’s scent is off,” he said haltingly, speaking up almost as soon as the idea had formed.

“My scent is off?” Spike asked worriedly.

“Yeah. The chip, I assume. Something to do with the metal it’s made of or something. I don’t know enough about it. I only know that you smell slightly different and I assume that’s why.”

“Wow. That makes sense,” Willow murmured, her eyes glazed with thought. Angel could almost see the wheels turning behind them. “Do you think…do you think maybe they did something to Riley?”

“I've thought about it and that's a possibility, but I'm not sure whether it's anything like what was done to Spike. I don’t know enough about the chip or what it’s made of to isolate if it’s the same thing. After all, demons are different from humans and…”

“And we’re not bloodhounds, are we?” Spike was obviously discomfited by what Angel had just told him.

“This is not good news,” Xander said, displaying a remarkable capacity for understatement.

“No, it’s really not,” Willow agreed, sinking down onto the couch where Cordelia sat, looking as worried as everyone else. “That’s one more reason I’d better break into those files as soon as possible.”

“And a good reason to keep Buffy’s latest example of bad judgment from knowing about it when you do.” Cordelia was contributing advice that was quite sensible. Angel suddenly felt less like a man doling out charity and more like an employer.

“Yeah…I guess so…” Willow was still a bit distracted, her mind running through possible scenarios. He knew what that faraway look meant. “Poor Buffy. I mean, she finally finds someone and…”

Angel, too, found his thoughts turning to Buffy, but not in the same sympathetic way. He should have thought of this before. If things with her pretty boy soldier went south, she was not going to take the news of his relationship with Willow at all well. And it probably wouldn’t stop her from expecting him to ‘console’ her, either. As if he didn’t hate Riley enough already just for being one of those Initiative bastards…

“My heart bleeds for the Slayer. In the meantime, what do we do about the fact that she’s put her precious Riley Finn right in the midst of things? Somehow, I figure that if he’s chipped, it’s not to stop him from bitin’ anyone.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Spike has a point. This pretty much means that the only one we can trust out of Buffy’s group is Xander.” Cordelia gave the boy a nod and he smiled at her. Great. When did this all become a matchmaking scheme?

What made it worse was that she was absolutely right. No one but the people in this room could know what was possibly up with Riley. Giles would surely want to bring Buffy up to speed and that would be a disaster. Unfortunately, that meant that they were now down two team members. He wasn’t counting Riley or Anya.

Anya…currently starring as the elephant in the room. What on Earth was Xander going to do about her?

There wasn’t any time to worry about her, at least not now. Because that familiar tingling along his spine told him even before the knock at the door that they had a visitor – Buffy was back.

Spike decided to answer, racing ahead of Willow to get to the door. “Slayer! How delightful to see you. Come back again sometime. Bye.” He nearly slammed the door in her face, but Willow grabbed it and gave him her version of a death glare. It was absolutely adorable and added to the smile Angel was suppressing with some difficulty. There were times when Spike’s antics were a blessing.

“Spike!” Buffy caroled, giddy in a way that raised Angel’s hackles. “Even the sight of your annoying face isn’t enough to ruin my day. Now step aside before I pull you out into the sunlight.”

“I hope you’re kidding.” Angel’s voice was clear and cold. He did not for one moment think that Buffy wouldn’t do it, for all her apparent sprightliness.

“Lighten up, Angel. Of course I was kidding.” Buffy seemed unsettled by his demeanour. Tough.

“So, Buffy, what brings you back here?” Willow ushered her in and did her best to defuse the tension.

Buffy's perky manner returned immediately. In fact, the wattage on her smile was amped up and she grabbed Willow in a tight hug. “Willow! I have the best news! I brought a surprise for you! Close your eyes…”

Angel wasn’t the only one who was suddenly very nervous. Spike was taut as a bowstring. But it was Angel’s nostrils which flared first, recognizing the scent of Buffy’s ‘surprise’ even before it walked in the door…

“Oz,” he said, ruining Buffy’s big reveal and causing Willow’s eyes to shoot open in shock. “What brings you back to Sunnydale?”


Tbc…