The Highlander Factor

Wesley sank onto a chair, the small hairs on his neck standing to attention at the vampire's words. Was it bad enough? It would depend on why.

"Why? Why did you kill him?"

"'Cos he reminded me of me. He wouldn't let her go, and she was screaming, and he wouldn't stop. So I hit him, pulled him away from her and hit him, and I couldn't stop. All I could see was what Cordelia showed me. The bathroom. Me...and Buffy. And I felt like I was hitting myself, punishing myself for what I tried to do to her."

"He was attacking a woman? And you stopped him..."

His words went unheard. "There was so much blood. When I finally heard her and stopped, there was so much bloodl ovl over his face and my hands and my jacket. I ran but you can never run fast enough to get away from what you really are, can you."

The stake dropped to the floor and he grabbed it before Spike could change his mind. "Are you sure he was dead?"

The vampire's arms were covering his head, but Wesley saw the almost imperceptible shake when his question was answered. "I don't know, not sure. I think so. I hit him bloody hard."

"Were you near the hotel?" There was a slight nod and armed with that information, Wesley risked leaving Spike alone long enough to use the phone. A fraught half an hour later, he returned with news and fresh coffee, finding the vampire exactly where he'd left him. "You didn't kill him, but he is in intensive care, with severe head trauma. They won't tell me anything else."

The mug he held out was ignored so Wesley put it down on the floor, close enough that it could be seen. There was silence for a few moments then Spike started talking again.

"I don't know what scares me most. Keeping the soul or losing it. What if the chip doesn't work? Will I go back to how I was before, 'cos I'm not sure I can. I've changed, woken up, and started smelling the flowers. And if it doesn't work, swapping the soul over, is it always gonna be like this? Hurt this much? 'Cos I'm not sure I can lwithwith that neither. And if the chip works, then what? Still not a monster and still not a man, just back to where I was, trapped in-between."

"Would you like me to do it?"

"What?" The vampire's head shot up and he stared incredulously at the human.

"Stake you." What little sympathy Wesley had left was rapidly dissipating, and the fear he had felt earlier when he was attacked in his bed was mutating into cold anger that was reflected in his voice.

"If you are dead then your thrice damned Sire has his soul back by default, and you bloody well terrified me in there," he indicated the bedroom, "So I'll stake you if you want me to, with a great deal of pleasure."

He stood over Spike and glared down at him waiting for a decision. The vampire stared back at him, his expression changing so slowly Wesley was tempted to kick him just to speed it up. Eventually, it settled on shifty embarrassment.

"Um...No, I'm ok now, thanks."

"Well, I'm glad you bloody are. I'm getting dressed." He stomped back into the bedroom, cursing the luck that filled his life with soul-ed vampires that spent half their lives brooding and the other half trying to kill him.

As he went through the door, Spike called brightly after him. "About earlier, Wes. I'm sorry. I was just feeling a bit fucked up."

Wesley gave an exasperated snort and kept walking.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"This is going to be entirely your fault, Willow." She turned her face away from the leather thongs stroking gently down her cheek. "It doesn't have to happen. Do what I want, and then Dawn will be safe."

"I-I don't believe you." For the first time in what seemed like days the gag had been removed, and she knew why. He wanted her to be able to spell cast and if she didn't do it voluntarily, Angelus would force her hand by torturing Dawn. Could she live with that on her conscience? Was a sin of omission as great as a sin of commission, the coven didn't tell her the answer to that one, only said she shouldn't use her magic, that it could set off a chain reaction that even they would not be able to drag her back from.

So which was worse, watching her friend being tortured or risking her own soul? Buffy had sacrificed herself for Dawn, jumped into the abyss rather than see her sister dead and was prepared to unleash hell on earth. Willow wondered if she could die simply by willing it to be so, but even that would draw on her power.

"Bring the girl." At Angelus' command she let out a small whimper, her heart and mind torn in two by the decision she was being called on to make.

Frantic screams entered the room moments before Dawn appeared, struggling wildly in a minion's grasp. When she saw Angelus she stopped, her face suddenly full of unquestioning hope, and Willow wanted to weep at the naivety of the little girl who had been spared the worst of this vampire's atrocities. During his last incarnation the whole gang had fought to protect her from the details, or so she remembered. Of course none of that was real, just memories placed in her mind by the monks who had made the key human. As she met Dawn's eyes across the room, Wilsaw saw the hope in them fade as the missing pieces of their imprisonment fell into place, and the girl finally realised who their captor's true identity.

"You...BASTARD." Dawn's struggles became frantic once again, but she was trying to get to Angelus and not away from him. Her anger obviously amused the vampire and he slunk towards her, smirking, his entire demeanour purring enjoyment at her impotent rage.

With a glance from his master, the minion released his hold and Dawn stumbled forward into Angelus' arms where she started to beat at his chest with her fists, screaming incoherently. He let her; laughing at her feeble attempts to hurt him until, suddenly bored, he grabbed her wrists and drew her into a tighter embrace, burying his face in her hair and nibbling at her neck.

There was no doubt that the warm body pressed tightly against his own was much changed from the last time he had been this close, and Angelus revelled in the smell and feel of incipient womanhood it exuded. As fear started to outweigh anger in the girl's scent he ran his fingers up and down her spine, purring again as she arched towards him despite her terror and revulsion.

Ah yes, later he would have to play with this one. Once he had dealt with the Slayer and broken the Witch, then he would have some fun, and take his time about it as well. They were always amusing when they were so young, their bodies quickly learning the lessons he taught them about pleasure and pain. Before releasing her back into the arms of his minion, Angelus palmed her breast and felt to his satisfaction her nipple hard and aroused against the chill of his hand. Oh yes, later.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Did you get it all?"

Wesley studiously ignored the vampire, as Spike greeted Fred upon her return to the hotel. After his unpleasant experience the previous night he'd called Giles on the off chance he could shed light on the mood swings Spike seemed to be having. After sympathising most disingenuously, Giles stopped laughing and assured Wesley that the vampire was probably not dangerous just confused. He also pointed out that the situation with Angelus doubtless wasn't helping either.

"They were very close at one time, you know."

"I think I grasped that fact." Wesley recounted what had happened in the office, omitting the part about the effect it had on him, that wasn't something he wanted Giles to gossip about to mutual friends.

"Interesting. Not quite what I meant, but having been on fairly intimate terms with Angelus before, I should have guessed. I don't envy you in the slightest, Wesley. It certainly sounds like you have your hands full."

Cordelia had joined Fred and Spike, and the three went into an exclusive huddle before disappearing up the stairs. It was quite worrying seeing how Spike interacted with the women. They always greetem wim with distrust, but within minutes he had managed to put them at their ease and had them giggling like schoolgirls. Excepting Justine, who didn't trust anyone, only Faith seemed immune to his dubious charms and Wesley had a sneaking suspicion that it was the accent reminding her of him, rather than species, that put the Slayer on edge.

He returned to his books and the pile of ingredients stacked next to them. It had taken him half the day to acquire everything he needed, and he still wasn't certain exactly how much of the potion Angelus would have to consume to have the desired effect. Nor was he convinced that Spike would be able to get him to drink it, despite his protestations to the contrary. But he had to get started, it was going to take twenty-four hours to concoct, and he needed to be sure that the antidote was ready as well. With a sigh he picked everything up and retired to the huge industrial kitchen in the basement.

Faith followed her old Watcher's progress as he left the lobby and headed for the back stairs before returning to her task. She, Justine, Connor and Gunn were cleaning and prepping weapons ready for the attack they had planned for the next night. The vampire had cried off helping, saying he had other things he needed to do and his absence was something of a relief to the small group. Between the four of them there were probably enough bad experiences with the un-dead to last a hundred human lifetimes and, even if it hasoulsoul, it was difficult to relax when one of them was present.

As she looked around at the cleaning crew, Faith was surprised at how much she was enjoying herself, her time in prison had been incredibly difficult, not being able to tell anyone about her true nature and having to conceal her unnatural strength and speed. At least here everybody knew exactly who and what she was, and apart from Wesley, seemed quite prepared to give her another chance. She helped herself tcleaclean rag and a double headed axe and set to polishing, the repetitive movement as soothing as the silence, and seriously considered whether this place could actually offer her the sanctuary she craved.

An hour or so later their work was rudely interrupted.

"Holy shit." Gunn's quiet expletive drew everyone's attention and they followed his gaze, which was firmly fixed on an unfamiliar figure lurking on the stairs.

"Well, what do you think?" Cordelia called from the landing and started down, gesturing for the, now reluctant, vampire to follow her. It had seemed like a really good idea when'd f'd first thought of it, when Wesley had described the effects of the potion he had to get Angelus to drink. Now he wasn't so sure. Even unable to see his reflection to confirm it, he knew from the awkward familiarity of the clothes and the way the girls had fussed over him that the transformation had worked. But the real test wouldn't come until he walked into his Sire's presence for the first time.

"Hey, nice look, Spike. Love the outfit." Faith laughed uproariously at the vampire's obvious discomfort. Next to her Gunn was still speechless, but Justine took the opportunity to make a typically cutting remark.

"A vampire is still a vampire, even if you change it's clothes...or give it a soul."

"But in this case I think the change is significant."

Wesley's return had gone unnoticed by the others, and he stood staring up at Spike from the bottom of the stairs a curious look on his face. It was something like looking into a time warp. Watchers collect things obsessively and sometime towards the end of the nineteenth century, one had found a portrait left behind in a lair when Angelus' family had moved on. He'd only seen a grainy reproduction but it was enough for him to recognise and name the creature standing before him. The darker, un-gelled hair fell intturatural curls and the loose woollen clothes, although modern, spoke of a much earlier era.

"I believe we are having the pleasure of meeting a much earlier incarnation of this particular vampire." He held out his hand, oddly wanting to adopt manners more befitting of the guise Spike had assumed. "William the Bloody, I presume."

"No, Doctor, fucking, Livingstone. Who do you think?" The vampire grabbed the offered hand and yanked Wesley towards him until he could whisper into the Watcher's ear. "I wouldn't go around offering yer hand if I was you. I didn't have a reputation for gentleness."

There was a squeal from the top of the stairs and Spike rolled his eyes as Fred excitedly joined them. "Wait, wait. He's not ready. You've got to see him in these; he looks so sweet."

Held in her hand were a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles, which Spike grabbed and stuffed in his pocket, growling at her. "I am not sweet. And I'm not wearing those here. I look enough of a sodding pansy as it is."

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

"What's in it?" Spike took a tentative sniff, and instantly flinched back from the foul smelling concoction. "It stinks. He'll never drink that."

"In that one?" Wesley consulted his notes. "Rue, St. John's Wort, and Vervain, amongst other things, and Angelus won't have to drink that, it's the antidote, for you." He picked up another container and handed it over. "This is the potion. Much more pleasant, I'm sure you'll agree."

The vampire twisted the lid off the glass bottle and sniffed, keeping his distance, then frowned and sniffed again, closer this time. "It's sweet, strong...caraway, yes? But there's something else. I like it, it's..."

Wesley took the bottle out of his hand and replaced the lid. "Addictive. The main ingredients are caraway, ginseng, and frankincense, with just a touch of juniper and basil, plus a special something from that herbalist in Chinatown."

He looked at the amber coloured liquid dispiritedly. "It's very powerful and I have no idea how much of it Angelus will need to take. It's not really designed for vampires, but I was rapidly running out of time and choices."

"Will it work at all?" Spike was not happy with the idea of being stuck with his Sire when the others invaded the lair, unless the bastard was at least halfway out of it. Angelus was no genius, but it wouldn't take much in the way of brains to work out exactly who was making a patsy of him.

Putting the bottle back on the table, Wesley flicked through another book. "All I have is one reference. It says that a vampire took the stuff accidentally and was raving incoherently when it walked out of the herbalist's house."

"Then what happened? Does it say how long the effects take to wear off?" Spike was trying to read over his shoulder, so Wesley put his hand over the relevant passage.

"Hang on a minute. What did that say?!" The vampire snatched the book out from under his hands and scanned the page. "Bloody hell!"

"There's no way to tell if that will happen to you and we have the antidote..."

"It says here that it burned up. Walked out of the house into the fucking sun and burned up." He put the book slowly back on the table, and turned a fixed stare on the ex-Watcher. "I know you don't like us very much, pet, but don't you think this is a little extreme."

Wesley gave him a wan smile and tried to be reassuring. "No one will let you walk into the sun, anyway the assault going to happen at night. And we do have the antidote, which we will administer as soon as the girls are free and Angelus is restrained."

"About that." Spike's fingers trailed over the book, and his eyes followed their progress as he worked through how to ask Wesley for a favour. He jumped when Wesley's hand rested gently on top of his.

"I'll sur sure it's me, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not embarrassed or anything, it's just that...God, this is difficult. It's been a long time, a really long time and I'm not exactly a fledge anymore. If word got out, it might give the wrong impression."

He sank into the chair and put his head in his hands. "Who am I kidding? Invite the whole sodding lot in. It's not like my reputation can get any more pathetic. It hit rock bottom about two years ago. Clem's the only demon that'll speak to me anymore."

Wesley sat down next to him and put a comforting hand on his back. "I spoke to Giles this morning, and he seems to think that the chip will still work after the soul has been extracted."

The vampire's shoulders shook under his touch, and Wesley could see that they were heading for another round of angst and depression. He was really starting to look forward to the time when Spike no longer had his soul; maybe he'd be easier to get along with.

"It'll be too late."

"What?" Wesley had hardly heard what Spike said but it seemed important so he listened.

"I said 'it will be too late'. I won't have a soul anymore and who could love an evil soulless thing." The words were muffled and, rather exasperatedly, Wesley decided that this time they were going to talk on his terms.

"Sit up. I can't hear you. For god's sake, Spike, you're over a hundred and twenty, grow up."

"Hey. That's not fair. You're supposed to listen and be sympathetic." At least he'd sat up.

"I think my sympathy dried up last night when you tried to...bite me."

"Yeah. I am sorry, you know. I'm not sure what I thought I was doing."

"That makes two of us. Now what were you talking about? Who won't love you? Buffy?"

Spike stared at him then laughed. "The Slayer, hell no. That was one totally screwed up idea. No, not Buffy."

"Then who?" The eye contact was gone again and the vampire was looking at his boots in silence. "Spike?"

In a sudden movement, which nearly pitched Wesley off his chair, Spike was standing up and pacing. "Him, okay. Angel. I had this really stupid idea that if I got a soul and came here then maybe, just possibly..." His arms had been waving around as he spoke, then he stopped and wrapped them around his waist, suddenly looking very young and vulnerable.

"Even after everything I did to him. I just hoped he would be able to forgive me, that he might take me in and love me. I don't want to be alone, Wes. Eternity's too long to be alone, and no other vampire will have me when I can't kill. He was my last chance."

Wesley was shocked into speechlessness and he sat in silence while his mind processed the information. He'd had the impression that Spike had been reluctant to come to LA, but that had obviously been a façade. That the vampire wanted to stay with his Sire had never occurred to him, though it made sense on many levels, they were both alone, alienated from their own kind and they had a history that went back further than any human couple.

"You got the soul for him, not Buffy." He needed to clarify this.

"That's what I said, human." And now they were moving on to stroppy vampire.

"But what he did to you. Gunn told me, when he found you, what Angelus had done."

Spike was getting frustrated; humans never really understood this part. "That's the whole point. It was Angelus, not Angel, plus it was nothing he hadn't done before and worse. And yes, I was...am, angry with him, but more because he left me there, hung on the wall for the others to find, than anything else. It really upset Fred, you know. She kept crying when she was sewing me up."

"He virtually skinned you." Incredulous was not a strong enough word to describe how Wesley was feeling. His words sputtered out
Put
Putting his hands flat on the table and staring straight into Wesley's eyes Spike said slowly. "He's done worse to me in the past. At least this time he used a sharp knife." He continued staring, waiting for his words to sink in, which they eventually did. It was like watching a light coming on.

"It was a game. An elaborate, vicious game." There was more here, and Wesley sensed that the vampire wasn't going to back down until he had fully understood. "My god. It was a sex game, wasn't it? Some sort of erotic blood play."

Spike closed his eyes and nodded. It took quite a leap of faith for a human to grasp what had happened, and Wesley had done well, he deserved more of an explanation.

"Yeah, sort of. And this information goes no further than this room. None of your Watcher buddies get to hear, all right?" He waited until he got a nod before continuing.

"It's the sort of thing he used to do when I was very young. It was like he was testing me, seeing if the soul had made me weaker, seeing if I would break. But I didn't and he knows that. That's how I know he will let me get close to him again. That's why I've done this," Spike gestured to his darkened, curly hair and soft woollen clothes, "to show him that I've changed, accepted him as my Sire again. I just hope Angel understands all that when he's back."

"You think Angel will reject you because you love Angelus."

Spike had to downdown he was laughing so hard. "Love? Angelus? Don't be a fucking idiot, Wesley. Not even a demon could love Angelus; he's a complete bastard."

"I don't understand. I'm drowning here, Spike. Explain, please. My classes at the academy never covered any of this."

When he'd got his laughter under control, Spike tried to help. "I don't 'love' Angelus. He's my Sire." He rubbed a hand over his face; it was so difficult to explain to a human when there was no real equivalent. And he could really use a cigarette to help him think.

"It's like fags, okay. You know they're bad for you, that they might kill you, but they taste too good and your body craves them so much that you'd do anything, risk anything for just one more. That's what it's like."

"But Buffy said you hit him round the head with a tire iron."

Spike frowned at him in confusion. "Well, yeah. He was trying to steal Dru."

"Hi, guys. What you talking about?" Fred's slight form appeared in the doorway and Spike shot Wesley a warning look. He had meant what he said; the conversation went no further than that room.

"The potion." "Angelus," they said simultaneously then looked at each other. It was hopeless, Spike started to laugh again and Wesley joined in.

Fred stood in the doorway and stared at them, before flouncing out, calling back over her shoulder as she went. "Last meeting before we leave. For some reason the others want you two there."