=======================================

December 7, 2004

Hyperion Hotel

12.12 pm

Cloth rinsed under the steaming water, Joyce winced as her hand
came perilously close to being scalded by the hard stream of
water. Cold-water tap twisted on, she let the two temperatures
mingle before thrusting the cloth back into the steady stream.
Cloth wrung out, the older woman proceeded to wipe down the
kitchen bench.

"God damn it!"

It was Riley's birthday the next day and in trying to bake a
simple chocolate cake, Joyce had created a barely organized
chaos in the large kitchen. There was dried cake batter over
almost every surface, the kitchen a quiet witness to a snap of
Joyces nerves. It had taken three tries before finally getting
a completely baked cake. The first try had been dropped on
the floor in an accident, the tin just slipping from her grip.
A few groans later, the almost done cake had been cleaned up and
a new one shoved into the oven a mere half hour later.

The second try had been thrown against the opposite wall after
Joyce had burnt her fingers in getting the tin out, to see how
the batter was cooking. The impact had echoed around the large
kitchen, deep brown half-baked cake flying in all directions.
Joyce admitted to herself that it wouldn't be that hard to clean
up if she hadn't been lazy and let it dry first while making
the third attempt. This time however, it was perfect.

Riley was going to be twenty-eight. Joyce wouldn't be surprised
if the tall ex-soldier took the opportunity to finally start
drinking, allowing himself to slip into a beginning alcohol
induced existence. Her daughter’s boyfriend was strong, she
knew that. Only a person of exceptional character would have
been able to keep Buffy's interest, let alone keep up with her.

The blond man was dangerously close to slipping though and
tomorrow might just be the day he went over the edge. Joyce
hoped that between her and Graham, it wouldn't happen. Riley's
best friend had come to her that morning, revealing his own
fears for his buddy. Both of them were going to try to keep the
tall blond busy, keep him occupied with enough so that he
wouldn't even contemplate pouring his nightly drink.

Angel had been informed of their fears, Graham having a quiet
word to the vampire before the older demon had made his way to
Wesley’s room that morning. Angel had merely grunted at the
smaller man, brushing past Graham in the corridor like he wasn't
there and Graham had let it happen. Upon being told, the older
woman had hugged the taller man, slipping her arms around
Graham's waist as she had felt the ex-soldier reciprocate.
Together they had stood, neither making a move to release the
other until Angel had burst into the kitchen, only then jumping
apart as if burnt.

The older vampire had taken no notice of the two humans, just
wiping at the mess on his jumper before leaving again, Graham
flashing Joyce a small smile before following. Joyce had to
admit that she was more than a little annoyed that Angel had
chosen that particular moment to appear. She couldn't deny that
it had been a pleasant experience, having Graham's arms around
her. It had felt so different from hugging Angel and Riley,
even Wesley before he had gone into self-imposed exile. It had
been nice, her heart doing the tiniest of flutters as she had
leaned into the strong warmth.

"I'm so fucking tired."

Shoulders shrugged, Joyce smiled a little at voicing a random
thought. With the last of the cake batter cleaned up, she threw
the rag into the bin.

"Quick pro quo and fucking blah, blah, blah."

Ok, things were getting weird now because she sure as hell
didn't remember thinking that so...why would she even say it?

"Useless, that's what I am. That's what everyone is."

No. This could not be happening. She was not going to take
Drusilla's place as the nutty one. There was no way she would
be able to live up to the legend anyway. Joyce had read the
books on the dark haired vampiress after everyone had gotten
over the shock of Drusilla's demise and had to admit that the
woman had been fascinating. No wonder Spike had been addicted
to her. A pang of pity went through her at the thought of the
bleached blond, hoping that he presently wasn't in the pain
Drusilla was so adamant he was feeling. The same thought going
out for all the missing friends.

"Bloody hell, where is everything?"

What on earth was happening? One hand clapped over her mouth,
the older human woman wondered just why she was saying things
she knew wasn't coming from her mind.

"Ich bin name...no, no that wasn't right. Hang on, Ich bin
na..bugger!"

German? She didn't know any German but it had sounded like it.
Her voice making the sounds even if she didn't think it. Feeling
a little sick, she walked across the linoleum to the kitchen
table, knees wobbling as her legs threatened to give out. Chair
dragged out, Joyce sat heavily as she said a complete sentence
in German. French. She knew French but the guttural language
of the Germans hadn't held an interest for her so she had never
studied it but she was fluent in French.

"London bridge is falling down, falling down..falling
down,..London bridge is falling down..my fair lady."

A sob broke thorough the quiet atmosphere of the kitchen as her
words took on a crisp clear accent. An English accent. Hand
wiping across her eyes, she smeared the salty tears as they made
their way down her cheeks.

"Oranges and lemons...the bells of Saint Clements...A-tishoo,
A-tishoo...we all fall down...no, that was wrong. Damn it!"

An English accented *male* voice.

Not knowing whether to laugh or continue crying, the woman
sniffled as she voiced more nursery rhymes from long ago. With
her voice dropping lower with each word, she marvelled at how
strange it was to speak with an accent other than American.

She knew whose voice it was.

It was one she had thought never to hear again, so uninhibited.

It was Wesley's, completely free from the restraints the maiming
had left him with. Unfortunately, from what she was mouthing,
it was clear the man didn't have the healthiest of minds.

Part Ten

December 9, 2004

Hyperion Hotel

10.13 am

A hand rubbed through his hair, Angel poured himself a whisky.
Gulping the half filled glass, he hesitated for a split second
before pouring himself another. Sipping slower than before, the
vampire thunked the heavy tumbler onto his stained desk, letting
the few drops of spilled amber liquid blend into the numerous
coffee rings.

"God, I love you so much Wes. I'm so sorry that this had to
happen"

Whispering more in the hopes of making himself feel better, the
tall brunette thought back to that morning and the complete
disaster it had been.

After his meeting with one of the leading therapists at the
hospital, he had reluctantly allowed himself to be bullied into
making another appointment to discuss the former Watcher's state
of mind. He had been partially reassured that he had been doing
the right thing, that it was proving to Wesley that the vampire
really did care even if his lover couldn't see it just yet. All
hell had struck a few days ago, the day of Riley's birthday.
Joyce had suddenly started speaking as Wesley. Accent, pitch
and speech patterns, perfect in all.

Angel had been horrified to learn what was going through his
lover's mind, saddened by Wesley's mental downfall. Needless to
say, Joyce still wasn't handling it too well. She could still
speak in her own voice but whatever she was trying to say was
overridden by what Wesley was saying. Most of the time Wesley
was trying to speak one of the numerous languages he had been so
proficient in without letting the trauma to his tongue get in
the way. French, German, Chinese, Latin and many more.
Unfortunately, it was usually no more than random mutterings
spiced up with such foul language even the normally stoic Graham
was shocked. No one really knew just where he had learnt such
language and if the situation had been different, each one would
have teased the man mercilessly.

Upon approaching Wes, backed up by Joyce and Graham, Angel had
almost instantly wept when he had seen the horrific state of his
former lover. The younger human had been lying in the middle of
his room and for the first time in months, Angel had seen him
naked. Gasps behind him had told the brunette that he wasn't
imagining the protruding ribs and thin spindly limbs that were
covered by a light matting of hair. He had been told by the
therapist to expect something like that but how could he have?
When people starved themselves of their body fat, the body
automatically tried to conserve its body heat by growing extra
body hair, he *had* been told but it had still shocked him.

He had turned around without alerting the sleeping man to their
presence, cutting off Joyce's protests by quietly telling her
that he was going to hospitalise Wesley as soon as possible.
That had been this morning.

After a talk with the hospital therapist handling Wesley's case,
Angel and Anne had gone through the traumas the former Watcher
had been through over the last few months and combined with what
both Joyce and Graham told her of Wesley's change of
personality, Anne had agreed to take him in for observation.
Wesley however, had given the ambulance officers a good run
around the hotel, only allowing them to get him after he had
collapsed from the effort. He had been strapped down on the
trolley and slid into the ambulance, screaming obscenities to
all and sundry - Joyce trying not to cry while clearly
pronouncing the words that Wesley would forever twist. Anne had
tried to reassure Angel by telling him that Wesley's problem was
probably stemming from stress and not a distorted body image.
The brunette had given the therapist a tight smile, not even
bothering to tell the petite woman that the idea wasn't helping.

That had been merely ten minutes ago and Angel was already
exhausted for the day. He had no idea of how to help an
increasingly distressed Joyce, thankful that Graham was
currently plying her with numerous cups of camomile tea in an
attempt to calm her down. Riley was at the hospital on Angel's
behalf, dealing with the paperwork for Wesley's admittance.
With all the uproar over Joyce's new-found abilities, Riley's
birthday had been pushed aside and all but forgotten by everyone
but Riley himself. He had taken himself upstairs once looking
in the magic books had proved to be fruitless and had proceeded
to drink himself into a state of semi-consciousness. Angel had
eventually helped Graham settle Riley into bed, both ignoring
the drunken protests. The vampire had then wandered back to his
own room while Graham had gone to sit with Joyce for a little.

Sighing, Angel knew that there was an attraction between the
older woman and the normally stern soldier. He wasn't blind,
and
even if he was, there was no way he could miss the tiny wafts of
arousal that emerged when they were together. Joyce wasn't
unattractive for her age, no, she was actually still quite
beautiful. Buffy had definitely gotten her looks from her
mothers side. The older human woman was kind, patient, caring
and loving. She was also a lot stronger than she looked, she
had a strong will and a quiet determination. Angel admired her
and he admitted that things would have been a lot harder on all
of them if Joyce hadn't been around. She was his friend and if
starting something with Graham brought her a little pleasure and
happiness, then Angel was all for it.

Graham wasn't a bad choice either. The brunette had never really
met him before raiding Eternal but he had come to like the
soldier. He was quiet but when he spoke, it was always worth
taking note of whatever was said. The ex-soldier was stubborn,
Angel knew that if he ever had to go head-to-head with the
shorter man, he really didn't know who would win an argument.
Graham was calm, never did anything out of the ordinary and was
totally reliable. The only time Angel had seen him spooked was
when Drusilla had run her hand down his arm, then again, Dru had
spooked almost everyone she had ever met. All in all, Graham
was Joyce's rock.

With a slight smile to himself, Angel thought that whatever the
reputation soldiers usually had for getting regular sex, it was
obvious that Joyce was going to be the more experienced of the
two. Rubbing at the beginning headache, Angel tried to will it
away, knowing that it was a futile attempt. The only thing that
would take away his headache, was a few of the tablets he kept
hidden away and he didn't have any. He had used the last of
them after his meeting with Anne, the therapist from the
hospital, two days ago and he hadn't been able to go out and get
any since.

He had however, been given something extra in his last foil
wrapped pills. Angel had handed over the wad of $50 dollar
bills to the vet, snatching the offered package with out even
looking at it. It had just been shoved into his duster pocket,
the vampire in a hurry to get back to the Hyperion so he could
have a relaxing few hours, something that he was seeking more
and more. Upon unwrapping the packet while locked in his
bathroom, the brunette had been disgusted to find three
syringes, sterile swabs and a vial of clear liquid as well as
his usual ten horse tranquillisers.

In anger, the vampire had almost thrown out the syringes and
flush the vial down the toilet but had stopped, reading the
label of the vial first. Grade 3 Equine Sedative. He had let
the lid of the toilet clatter down as he took in the words. It
was just a liquid form of what he was already taking, nothing
much, just something that was helping him go to sleep when he
really needed it. The re-wrapped package was hidden in a box at
the top of his closet.

With a groan, Angel rubbed harder at his right temple, bottom
lip gnawed as the headache struck full force. He wanted some
sleep and he didn't have any tablets but he could get a few more
in under half an hour if he ventured down into the sewer system
and continued to the vet clinic. Something that he really
didn't want to do but the promise of being oblivious to all was
becoming more tempting by the second.

In a snap decision, the vampire left his dark office and climbed
the stairs to the first floor. A wave of pain flowed through
him as he glanced down towards Wesley's rooms. Door closed and
locked behind him, Angel crossed over to the closet. Rummaging
around for the small tin, he experienced a feeling of relief as
he brought down the colourful box. Foil packet opened, the
brunette wondered if it was even going to work.

Would the drug even circulate around his body without a
heartbeat to pump the blood through his veins? The tablets had
taken effect even without a working digestive system, so this
should work as well. Head shaken, the vampire was momentarily
dazed as the pain from his head started its trek down his body,
his back knotting up in protest. He walked back to his bed,
sitting down on the edge while placing the vial on the bedside
table. Uncapping one of the syringes, Angel wondered how much to
even take. It wasn't as if it was going to kill him but he
didn't want to be out for too long, just long enough to relax
and have a brief respite from the constant stress that
surrounded him.

Carefully putting the sliver thin needle into the rubber stopper
of the vial, he drew a full syringe full of clear liquid.
Hesitating before removing the needle, Angel told himself that
he was only going to do this the once. He was going to make sure
that he didn't run out of the tablets again. Needle removed,
the vampire lay the full syringe down on the bedside table.
Taking off his thick jumper and long sleeved t-shirt, Angel gave
his temple an absent rub before leaning down to take off his
shoes and socks. Once standing, he unbuckled his belt and
unzipped his black slacks, letting them slide to the floor.

For once he didn't worry about his clothes getting dirty, just
allowing the expensive clothes to decorate his bedroom floor.
Fisted pumped a few times, Angel reached down to pick up his
belt from the floor and wrapped it tight around his upper arm,
just above the crook of his elbow. He was only going to do this
the once...never again. Repeating the sentence to himself a few
times, Angel choked down the feeling of guilt, not wanting to
know about it just that minute.

Belt pulled tight, he opened and clenched his fist fast until he
saw a vein rise. Angel really wasn't sure how he was able to
get a rising vein as he was officially dead, but he wasn't about
to question it right now. Once satisfied that he could see the
blue stripe in the crook of his elbow clearly, he gathered up
the syringe. Jaw clenched, the vampire firmly inserted the thin
needle under his skin and into what he hoped was the vein,
grimacing as he felt the metal glance against a nerve.

How on earth did he know if it was even in his vein? Taking a
chance, he pressed the plunger down, not looking as the clear
liquid flowed into this body. Almost instantly Angel felt a
burning around where the needle was situated. Tearing out the
needle, Angel paid no attention to the small drips of blood.
Belt loosened, he felt his arm grow cold as the drug made it's
way up his limb, his fingers already cooler than he would have
thought possible. Fingers tingling, he shook his hand, gasping
as his body temperature dropped.

"Fuck...what the hell have I just done?"

Horrified by the sensation, the vampire stood and crossed the
thick carpet towards the bathroom. Uncoordinated, Angel tried to
turn on the bathroom light, growling as his hand refused to work
properly. Sliding to his knees as the drug reached his mind,
the brunette's growl turned into an exclamation of pleasure as
he felt his body relax, his limbs feeling like they were
controlled by strings. He was lying awkwardly on the cold hard
tiles of the small room but as far as Angel was concerned, he
was floating on a cloud of feathers. His mind finally relaxing
into a pool of warm light liquid.

It was nice.

Maybe he wouldn't have the tablets next time?

No, this was a once off time.....sort of....mmmmmmm...niiiiice.


Part Eleven

December 10, 2004

Wolfram and Hart

3.57pm

"Hello Joyce"

"The Italian deli, Paprika, on Henshaw street has something of
value. We wish for it to be retrieved and returned to its
rightful owners"

"Good. It's a large white globe, the deli has it on display at
one of the counters. Get it and have it dropped at the front
counter of the New Seasons Hotel. It's to be plainly wrapped,
addressed to Mr. William Walters. Is this clear?"

"Good...One last thing, Joyce. Make sure everyone goes on this. 
We have not been happy with the last few performances, we do not
wish to remind you of what is at stake"

"It is not our concern how you get him returned from the
hospital, just ensure that it is done within the next three
days. If not, then a reminder will be sent - Do not make this
happen, Joyce. I'm sure Angel will be glad to have Wesley back
under his watchful eye. I know that we will be"

"No...nothing dangerous, just a simple retrieval and if there is
any resistance, I'm sure that it will be taken care of"

Thunking the phone onto the walnut hand-polished desk, Lindsay
continued to stroke himself. Each time he phoned the Hyperion
to give that damned vampire a set of instructions, he got as
hard
as hell and each time, he gave into temptation. Eyes closed,
the lawyer firmed his grip around his hard cock. Stroking the
hot length, he thumbed his pre-cum along the shaft, lubricating
the flesh.

With a groan, he wondered how insane the new set of instructions
would make the brunette vampire. Would Angel storm around the
Hyperion threatening to mutilate or maim whoever was messing
with his lovers health? Would the taller man just take it in
his stride and drag Wesley from his hospital bed? Would this
be the one to finally push the vampire over the edge?

It was a risk that made Lindsay stroke faster. He wanted to
push Angel as hard as possible, but not to completely break him.

The panting man continued to fist his cock, occasionaly
touching his lightly haired ball sac. Angel was too valuable to
break entirely, too useful in getting items that Wolfram and
Hart had problems retrieving. Who was going to argue with a
snarling vampire, and one who was formerly the Scourge of Europe
at that? Not to mention the two extremeley capable ex-soldiers
backing him up. Sure, they were still missing their trigger
fingers and they were yet to re-train in using their opposite
hands but both men still excelled in hand-to-hand combat, 
something that had helped convince reluctant demons and other
people to agree to Angel's requests.

Almost at the edge of completion, Lindsay grunted as he thumbed
a slick digit over his hot shaft. Once, twice and again, he
came into his closed fist, marking his old grey sweat pants as
the sticky fluid leaked between his fingers. After the second
time he had given in, he had started changing his pants before
calling the Hyperion and giving Joyce the instructions. Thank
God he had a secure and private office, well, as much as Wolfram
and Hart allowed that is. Tissues grabbed, the sated man gently
cleaned off his spent cock. He wouldn't be surprised if Holland
was jerking off himself, Lindsay knew the older man had an extra
interest in him and after a few well timed comments, the lawyer
was sure that his boss was watching Lindsay's office right that
moment.

Track pants removed once he was thoroughly cleaned, Lindsay
pulled on his charcoal slacks, fastening the button and doing up
the thick leather belt. Shoes back on his feet, he bent down
and quickly tied both shoelaces, grimacing slightly as he
realised they were just a touch too tight. Laces loosened, he
wriggled his toes in an attempt to warm them up. No matter how
much he turned the heating up, it was always cold in his office.
Shrugging it off, he reached for his thick suit jacket.

Buttons done up, he smoothed his hands down the front. He was
once again a professional, not a man seeking a moment's pleasure
at the expense of another. A glance at the clock and he saw
that it was time for his meeting with Randall. 

=====================================================

"Dammit Angel!"

"NO ONE IS GOING TO MOVE WESLEY!"

Standing in complete Alpha stances, Riley and Angel glared at
each other. Neither wanted to back down, show weakness. Angel
was right, Wesley needed to stay in the hospital until he was
better, and moving him now would more than likely ruin any
progress that had been made, no matter how small it was. 
Unfortunately, Riley had a valid point as well, Spike would be
missing another piece of anatomy if Wesley wasn't moved in three
days. They had a hard choice ahead of them. They either left
Wesley in the hospital and Spike got further mutilated, or they
dragged Wesley from whatever help he was currently receiving and
the bleached blond was left alone for the time being.

"Angel, please. I know you love Wesley but surely, you can't
want Spike to suffer as well?"

"I don't give a fuck Joyce. Given the choice between Wesley and
Spike, Wesley wins hands down each time...no debate whatsoever!"

"You complete asshole! What gives you the right to condemn
Spike to agony, and don't give me that 'I'm his Sire' bullshit,
I' don't want to know about it"

"I *am* his Sire and I can do what ever I like to Spike. If I
want to torture him, I can. I have absolute right over every
single cell in his body. I created him, and I can sure as Hell
dust him tomorrow if I want to. Let's face it Joyce, given the
choice between Wesley and Spike, who would you choose?"

"That's not fair Angel, and you know it. It's not fair that you
should make that choice either. No-one should have to make the
choice between a child and a lover"

Sitting heavily on the dark blue couch next to the angry woman,
the weary vampire struggled not to scream at the choice he was
being forced to make. Joyce was right, it wasn't fair. With a
glance at Riley still standing with hands on hips, the vampire
noted that the glare had been replaced by an expression akin to
sympathy. A gesture from Angel, and Riley was sitting in one of
the over stuffed armchairs that the vampire usually favoured.

"Joyce? Riley? Graham? I'm choosing Wesley because even though
Spike is going to be put through pain that I can't even begin to
imagine, he will get over it. Spike will always get over
things. Things that I have done to him in the past, Drusilla,
the chip. He *will* get over it, yes, it may take him a while
but eventually, he will"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah Graham, I am. When we find him, and we will find them
all, we will just have to give him the support he is going to
need. Spike is strong, no matter how many knocks he has, he
always comes back swinging. Trust me, I *know* about that first
hand"

Listening to the dark haired vampire, Graham wondered just who
he would choose if he was faced with the same choice. 

"Angel, I'm not ragging on you but say we do end up finding
Spike with bits missing from him, what then? What if this is
the knock that keeps him down for the count? How is that going
to affect Xander when we get him back as well....If?"

"Not 'if' Graham, it's *when*. OK, Spike is going to come back
from this because if the vampire is old enough and strong
enough, all damage is repaired by the body eventually - You
know, like when Wes bit my finger"

"What, *everything*?"

"Yep, pretty much. Get a finger cut off, and even though it's
going to take a while, it will grow back eventually. I don't
want Spike to hurt anymore than he already has, but when it
comes
to the crunch, Wesley isn't going to be so easily repaired"

Angel went quiet, watching the faces of his friends as they
absorbed this new piece of information. It was a fact that had
never been recorded by the Council, and with good reason. Most
vampires that had re-generated limbs lost them in battles with
other demons, and not Slayers, so the Watchers had never
recorded
that vampire trait into the diaries. With a turn of his head,
he saw that Graham was getting ready to ask another question,
hopefully one that Angel wouldn't mind answering.

"He may get over it physically, but will he get over it
mentally?"

Stomach dropping at the one possibility he had so far never
considered, the brunette vampire wondered just how strong his
Childe was mentally. With all that had been inflicted upon the
smaller vampire in the last few years, he wondered if it was a
real possibility that it might be the last straw for the
bleached
blond. The Spike he had known in the recent years had definitely
mellowed since his turning but it was a result of things forced
upon him, not by choice. The loss of his Sire, Drusilla leaving
him, being chipped, curtailed from hunting and being denied the
right to be the predator that he so naturally was. Even helping
Buffy hadn't been by choice, neither had been moving to L.A. and
living under Angel's watchful eye. Without a doubt, the
resentment and anger from being forced into situations not of
his choosing was piling up in the blond and now the physical
mutilation.... Angel couldn't help but think that it may just be
what tipped the scales for his Childe, no matter how strong he
had previously been.

Softly, Angel answered the question as honestly as he could.

"I don't know"

Part Twelve

December 11, 2004

Sanity

6.13pm

Leaning into the caress, Scott gave the demon a broad grin. A
large paw with sheathed claws patted his unruly hair. At a soft
growl from the furred demon, the brunette slid to his knees
in front of the silver haired biped. 

"Is there any particular 'thing' that you would like me to do
tonight Sir?"

"Nnnnnoooo"

His grin getting wider, Scott gave a silent thanks to the Gods,
knowing that he was lucky that he had gotten the better of the 
two R'nthor demons. The whore could hear the solid thumps of
Andrew's already battered body as he bounced off the walls in
the room next door. As much as he pitied his fellow co-worker,
he was glad to have been grabbed by the gentler of the pair of
demons. The only downside to Andrew's current treatment was that
the petite youth would more than likely be off work for a few
day's, meaning that both Scott and the others would have to take
on extra clients until the blond was able to work again.

As the paw being rubbed through his hair started to slow, Scott
focused on the task ahead of him. Not much to do really,
R'nthor demons were renowned for having small cocks and an extra
quick release time - Something that caused all the whores to
rush the demons as soon as one of the species walked through the
doors of Sanity. At the most, it was going to take Scott about
five minutes to complete his current job. From foreplay to
licking the demon clean after it had cum.

A long lick from the heavy sac to the head of the solid cock,
Scott momentarily hesitated as he heard a gut wrenching scream
from the room next to him. Not good. Eyes closed, he opened
his mouth to take the hard shaft. Leaning forward as he relaxed
his throat, the brunette stroked the demon's inner thighs. The
short cock just touching the back of his throat, the whore
swirled his tongue along the underside of the R'nthor's warm
shaft.

"Ssscchhoooot....gooood!"

With a gulping motion, Scott grasped the base of the silver
skinned penis tightly, prolonging the enjoyment for the demon. 
A small thank you for being chosen and so far, not being
punched.
Letting the small shaft of flesh slide from his mouth, the
taller youth sucked gently on just the head. Long slow licks
around the creatures foreskin, Scott ensured that the demon got
every second of enjoyment it had paid for. 

"Cooooommme?"

Another thanks given to the higher beings and the whore slowly
released his grip around the base of the short cock. The shaggy
haired youth concentrated on swallowing the warm salty liquid
that flowed across his tongue, trying to ignore the abuse Adam
was screaming at the demon next door. From the sound of it,
Andrew's leg had been broken and maybe both his arms as well. As
the patting of the paw got faster again, Scott licked the last
of the sour, gel-like substance from the head of the demon's
cock.

With a playful lick at the heavy sac, he grinned up at the
R'nthor as it chuckled from his actions.

"Goood Sssscoooot...gooood"

"Thank you Sir...is there anything else that you would like me
to do?"

His face patted by the silver furred paw, Scott almost flinched
as Adam yelled at Andrew to stop his whinging. Taking his eyes
off the demon for a moment, the brunette felt a lurch of
sympathy as he saw the smaller blond being carried by two of the
Keepers past the half-closed curtain to his service room. A
light stroking on his forehead and Scott jerked his gaze back up
to the demon's grinning face, suddenly worried that the demons
Mate might come in to give Scott a round of 'Snap' as well.

"Prrreeetyyy....gooood"

"Thank you Sir. Your pleasure is mine"

At the demon's laughter, Scott allowed some of his fear of the
creatures companion to dissipate. This was good This is what he
had been hoping for all along. Scott already knew that this
particular demon favoured him and he was hoping that the
favouritism would pay off. The whore was hoping that the demon
would be added to Scott's list of regulars, demons that had the
right to make advance bookings for Scott's service, sometimes
causing an abusive demon to miss out on a session with the
brunette. In all reality, Scott had no say whatsoever as to
which demons went onto the list, but so far, the good outweighed
the bad by three demons. Now all he had to do was get the demon
to ask to be put on the list, how he would acomplish that was
another thing entirely.

The brunette knelt sedately on the floor in front of his client
as the minutes ticked by, just content for the other male to
keep stroking his hair. It was nice to have a quiet client for
once, he thought, refusing to think of the demon that he knew
had
booked him for an hour at 1am. He could almost feel the pain
already, his stomach clenching in fear of what was to come. 
Shaking the unpleasant thought off, Scott allowed the demon to
lull him into a false sense of security for a small time.

BUZZZZ!

"I'm sorry Sir but time is up, thank you for allowing me to take
time with you. I'm looking forward to the next time"

"Uuuuupp"

In one fluid motion, Scott rose from his knees and looked down
at the shorter demon. Wondering how long it took to work the
silver hair into the tiny waist length braids the creature
sported, the whore stood passively as a large paw was thrust
down his loose black work pants, callused pads awkwardly
touching his soft cock. Scott gently reminded the demon that
the time was up, smiling as the soft fur tickled him along a
hip, the large paw making its way up his chest. 

"Please Sir?"

"Mmmmmmm"

Abruptly, the demon's paw was removed from under Scott's tight
black singlet, the silver furred creature leaving the brunette
standing in the service room alone. With a small yawn, Scott
looked around the tiny room, checking that all was in order
before he left. A tug on the double bed's cover and it was
straightened once again, Scott wishing he was back at the
Eternal again. At least there, he had had more privacy than a
curtain covering the doorway, something that was pretty
ineffective at most times. There were countless nights where he
had been fucked in front of an audience of demons that had
bribed the Keepers to allow them to have a little look. Scott
knew that it wasn't worth telling Adam or Randall, it would only
stop for a few weeks and then start again. More than likely
after Scott had been 'punished' by the Keepers for tattling
first.

At least in Eternal, he had had a door. He had also had a
private toilet and shower - not to mention a nightlight. Scott
wasn't allowed a nightlight now, so there was nothing to keep
the nightmares at bay except sheer will-power and the threat of
Adam talking to him privately. A talk with Adam was not
something that anybody wanted to have twice. Angelus had
nothing on Adam as far as Scott was concerned. The brunette had
been a witness to numerous clients being reduced to varying
levels of fright after being talked to by Adam, something that
had earned the dark man a lot of respect in the demon community.

Smoothing a hand over the dark bed covers, Scott took in the
bare white walls, again wishing that he was back at the Eternal.
The wood panelling was sorely missed, it had given the youths
something to concentrate on when a client was grunting away
inside of them. The youths didn't even have their own service
rooms anymore, it was just take what room was available or
whichever one they were dragged/shoved/thrown into. Their
sleeping quarters weren't much better either, they were just
cubicles with an open doorway, not even a curtain to give the
whores a sense of privacy. Same as the communal shower block, it
was just a shallow concrete square pit with enough room for all
ten youths to shower at once. Something that they did each
early evening as soon as the sun went down.

The cleanliness factor was still a priority for the whores, they
were expected to wash after each client, body moisturiser
applied as usual. At least that had remained the same. Even the
meals were different, the quality getting steadily worse each
week but as long as he had water, Scott didn't care. A sigh and
Scott idly rubbed at his ankle, his light sandshoe pulled on
properly. Time to go back out into the main bar, time to smile
and agree to whatever his next client wants.

Pushing the curtain to one side, Scott slowly walked back down
the short corridor, a soft smile at the grunting and squealing
coming from one of the rooms he passed. Who was in there, he
had no idea and really didn't care. A hand wiping at his chin,
he hoped that there wasn't any dried demon cum to be seen. That
would just earn him a slap across the head from one of the
Keepers and quite possibly get him dragged into the shower block
and forcibly scrubbed clean, something which happened to little
Christopher quite often.

The large gargoyle-like Keeper standing at the main doorway
passed, Scott plastered a wide grin on his face, scanning the
demons for his next client. Ever since the demon prostitutes
had been let go, the human whores had been told to mingle and
make conversation with the numerous demons that came in each
night. Make them feel welcome, Scott and the others had been
told. Remember, these demons are the only thing standing between
you and a snuff flick, he had been informed. Scott had pitied
the newcomers when David/Jonathan's death video had been played
for them, knowing that he wouldn't be the only one to be
continually asking for a nightlight.

A lonely looking vampire spied, Scott made his way over to the
gamefaced Asian. Hips swaying in time to the music, the
brunette lowered his eyes as he asked the vampire if he wanted
company. Upper arm gripped tightly, Scott allowed himself to be
dragged onto the vampires lap, giving a giggle and a moan as he
felt the cock beneath him begin to harden. Stroking the demons
face ridges, the brunette ground himself down onto the cool lap.

"Do you like me Sir?"

"Shut up, did I tell you to speak?"

"No Sir. I'm sorry"

"Doesn't matter anyway and yeah, I like you"

With that, Scott found himself being dragged by a steadily
bruising arm back down the same corridor he had only just
vacated. Shoved into the first vacant room, the brunette was
given no time to ask what the vampire wanted, his black clothing
ripped from his tanned body by a snarling, dark-haired male. 
Breathing hard, Scott was manhandled onto his back, legs spread
wide. The vampire stalked the small room from corner to corner,
snapping in Scott's direction.

"Don't move and don't fucking speak"

Not daring to nod, Scott lay on the bed with legs spread,
staring at the unexciting ceiling. He knew that the vampire had
gone to ask one of the Keepers for something to make the
brunette hurt. He shuddered at the great gusts of laughter
coming from the Head Keeper and from what he presumed was his
client. It was going to be bad - no doubt about it. His fears
were justified when he heard the snapping sound of a large belt.
Unable to help himself, he felt his heart rate accelerate,
cursing silently to himself as he knew that it would do nothing
but excite the vampire more.

"Gonna make you scream, and you had better scream. I paid extra
for this so fucking well make this worth my money"

"Yes Sir"

SNAP

"Did I ask you to speak?"

SNAP

"I just asked you a question, you gonna answer it?"

"I'm s.sorry S.s.sir, no you d.didn't"

SNAP

"Did I ask you to speak then?"

"Ahhh!"

SNAP

"Pull your legs up, I want to see that arse of yours..Go on.
Stop fucking around"

SNAP..SNAP...CRACK

Holding himself open for his client, Scott did as he was
commanded, screaming each time the leather bit into his tender
inner thighs, shrieking in agony as the wide strap connected
with the small patch of skin between his anus and balls. Over
and over the vampire kept asking him if he was going to scream
louder, demanding that Scott give him an answer and then
snapping the belt harder when the brunette tearfully answered
the question.

"Did I specifically *ask* you to speak?"

SNAP

"Did I?"

SNAP

"Did I?"

SNAP

"Di.."

"NO.S.S..SIR!"

CRACK

"Well, I didn't ask you then either did I?"

CRACK

"Did I?"

SNAP

With a howl of frustration, fright and agony, Scott screamed his
answer, again receiving another welt across his anus for
speaking. 

"N..NO SIR!"

SNAP

For the next thirty minutes, Scott concentrated on holding his
legs in the demanded position, fearing the consequences if he
let go. Finally, the vampire threw down the belt. Still with
legs held open, his knees almost beside his ears, Scott was
unable to hold back his groans of pain as the Asian male sank
into him. With no preparation, the steady pounding grated
against the fresh welts, each one screaming its own tune. Tears
threatening to make their presence known, Scott knew that his
worst client was still to come at 1am the next morning. 

Silently, he gave a round of applause as the solid male grunted
his release into him before pulling out and laying on top of
the hurting brunette. A cool tongue thrust into his mouth,
Scott obediently slipped his own into the vampire's, letting the
other male suck hard on his tongue. Unable to suppress a squeak
as the sucking grew to painful proportions, the brunette was
shocked when the client withdrew his tongue and spat onto
Scott's face. Slowly, the vampire rubbed his own spittle into
the whore's face. With wide dark brown eyes staring at the
client, Scott was once again in a state of agony as the vampire
deliberately ran his fingers along each welt, pushing and
twisting at the bright red raised marks.

"Stay there and don't move until I go. I want to see my
handiwork for a few more minutes"

A slight nod and Scott gasped for breath as the heavy male
climbed from on top of him. The client slowly did up his
zipper,
not even having removed his shoes and dark slacks, just his
shirt for the whipping session. Scott lay on his back, his
thighs only just starting to feel the first signs of getting
tired. He was used to the position, it was one that he found
himself in most of the time, either that or on all fours
servicing two clients at once. The completely dressed vampire
smirked at him, fingers digging into Scott's tender flesh,
delighting in the moans he received. Another twist of his
abused skin and Scott was thankful to see the client go as the
buzzer sounded.

Resting for few minutes, Scott slowly lowered his legs, pain
etched across his face as the heat flared up in the welts. With
a
deep breath, the brunette swung himself into a sitting position,

only to hastily roll himself on to his front as the bed covers
rubbed against the abraded skin.

"Keeper!"

"K..k.k.keeper, I n.need help t.t.to the sh.sh.showers"

With a grimace, Scott was dragged from the bed, and with one arm
around the gargoyles waist, the brunette limped his way slowly
to the shower block. Once showered, he would be examined by
Adam and be sent straight back to work if deemed fit enough. And
judging from Adam's reaction to Andrew's injuries, Scott would
be back out in less than half an hour. Sniffling slightly, the
sore brunette consoled himself with the thought that Angel and
Spike would find him soon enough.

Part Thirteen

December 13, 2004

Hyperion,

11.49am

"Hello, Angel Investigations..We help the hopeless?"

"Yes?"

"Yes?"

"Oh my God! YES! ANGEL!"

Shrieking in delight, Joyce waved the phone around her head as
she jumped up and down on the spot. Tears streaming down her
face, the excited woman continued to scream for Angel to come to
the phone. Footsteps clattering towards her, Joyce shrieked
into the phone again as both Riley and Graham came running from
the kitchen.

"Joyce..are you alright? What's the matter?"

Heart beating a mile a minute, Riley stared as his former
lover's
mother as she continued to call for Angel.

"You have Doyle with you...Francis Doyle? Doyle who is a
charming Irishman with dark hair and green eyes?"

"Your not sure about the green eyes...he does have black hair
doesn't he? Oh my God! I can't believe it!"

Once again the tall blond male asked if the older woman was
alright, only to be gestured at to be quiet for the moment.
With a glance at an equally worried Graham, the two ex-soldiers
waited until all would be explained.

"Thank you..thank you so much, you have *no* idea of how happy
this makes us all. Sorry, what was that again?...Oh, your
address, how silly of me...of course!"

Pen snatched from the scratched desk, Joyce made sure she wrote
down the address correctly, reading it out for the caller a few
times before making her final good byes.

"Thanks once again, may God bless you for this....what? No..no
Cordelia isn't here at the moment but I'll make sure to give her
the message when she gets back...Goodbye!"

"God bless you? What was that about?"

Wiping hastily at her still watering eyes, the sobbing woman
sniffled a huge smile at the two puzzled men.

"That was Samuel Lapp on the phone. He says that a Doyle
Francis is staying with him at the moment"

"Ah..don't you mean Francis Doyle?"

Graham easily dodged the oncoming slap that was aimed for his
upper arm, allowing himself a broad grin at what was quite
possibly the best news he had heard since the Magic Box
incident. It was great news. It meant that they were a step
closer to finding the rest of the missing friends. Even with
the PTB inspired help from Drusilla, the newly established
L.A. team had been unable to make any progress in their search.

"Smartarse! You know what I mean. Apparently, Francis is in
Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. That's why I told Mr Lapp that
God would bless him"

"Uhhhh, why?"

The smaller soldier was unable to deflect the light punch from
his friend, the chuckling from his two friends continuing to
puzzle him.

"Lancaster County...you know 'Witness'?....Pennsylvania
Dutch...not ringing any bells? No...Jesus, Graham - Surely even
you have heard of the Amish?"

"Your shitting me right?"

"And we have a winner!"

Muttering that his best friend was an assehole at times, Graham
found that he had to sit down. A few steps forward and he sat
heavily on Joyce's desk, scattering some of the loose sheets of
paper from the desktop. His smile grew wider as he watched Joyce
finish hugging Riley. As the woman flew towards him, he stood
up and gathered the smaller woman into his arms, neither of them
noticing as Riley ran towards the hotel's main staircase.
Without thinking he lowered his head, giving Joyce a lingering
kiss on her lips, pleased when he felt a warm tongue edge its
way into his mouth. Graham could taste vanilla and strawberries
interlaced with camomile tea. It was the most delicious thing
he had ever tasted and he knew that nothing would ever be able
to take its place. Clasping the soft warm body closer to him,
he felt the first stirrings of his cock as Joyce obligingly
moulded her body next to his.

Finally the need to breathe got too much for them, both pulling
away slowly, Joyce's tongue giving Graham's lips one last light
lick. The blush exploded over the soldier's face and clearing
his throat, he let his arms drop from around Joyce's waist.

"You do know where you have your hands now don't you?"

With a squeak and a deeper blush, Graham instantly took his
hands off the older woman's buttocks only to be both shocked but
pleased when Joyce deliberaetly replaced them and held them
firmly in place. Unsuccessfully, the suddenly shy man tried to
apologise for his actions, Joyce cutting him off in mid-speech.

"I like you Graham Miller...A lot. Don't apologise, if I didn't
like it, I would have twisted your nuts by now...don't you
worry, my daughter made sure that I was well prepared for the
modern dating world when I told her that I was thinking of
dating again"

"Ahhh! Nothing like having a Slayer to give you dating tips,
huh?"

Both smiling at each other softly, they stood in the comfortable
position even as they heard an excited Riley and a still sleepy
Angel come towards them. Joyce tore herself from the comforting
clasp with a tiny feeling of reluctance to envelop the yawning
vampire in a hard hug.

"So, what's up then?"

"You mean Riley didn't tell you?"

"Well obviously not if I'm asking?"

Refusing to let the vampire's crankiness get to her, Joyce felt
the tears start again as she told Angel about the phone call.
Angel stood stock still for a moment, letting his brain process
the new information. Finally, after all this time, something
had gone their way. The vampire felt his legs wobble and with
Joyce's guidance, he sat on her desk in the spot that Graham had
so recently vacated. Like the smaller soldier, Angel asked if
the human woman was serious about the Amish being involved.

"Yes I am, I don't think Mr Lapp has even used a phone before, I
mean, he was yelling into the phone and speaking so slowly, I
thought he was a bit..you know...*special* until he told me
where he was calling from"

"What the hell is Doyle doing all the way in Pennsylvania, and
Lancaster County in particular?"

"Who knows? But I can book a plane for you as soon as you give
me
your credit card"

In a daze, Angel pulled out his wallet, passing it to Joyce
without question. His friend had been found. Doyle was coming
home. He joined in the excited chatter with the two ex-soldiers
as they all listened to Joyce make travel arrangements for the
vampire.

"Angel, which one do you prefer...Philadelphia or Baltimore?
Both are less than two hours drive from Lancaster County"

"Whichever Joyce, just book me on the first one after sunset"

"OK, Baltimore it is then"

Making the final arrangements for a plane leaving L.A. at half
an hour past the estimated sunset, the woman asked for a rental
car with extra dark window tinting be available for the vampire
at Baltimore airport. Lincoln chosen for the large trunk space
just in case Angel found himself out in the open during daylight
hours, she reeled off the Mastercard no. from memory, only
looking at the card for the expiry date. A small thing but she
could never remember it. Details gone over once again, Joyce
confirmed that all were correct before hanging up. Computer
switched on, she joined in the happy gossip while waiting for
the hard drive to warm up.

"Do you want me to go and tell Wesley? This is going to be such
good new for him, God only knows how much progress he's going to
make once he hears this...just imagine how he'll be after a
visit from Doyle?"

"Yeah..yeah I would. Thanks Riley, I appreciate it. I know you
all still think that I'm making a mistake allowing Wesley to
stay in the hospital but please bear with me, OK?"

At the suddenly serious looks on his three friends' faces, Angel
knew that today was the day something else was going to be
delivered from his still missing Childe. All were hoping that it
wasn't going to be too bad for the bleached blond. The vampire
was ringing the hospital morning and night, enquiring about his
lover's health. So far it had been pretty good news. Wesley's
confused state of mind and personality change had been put down
to a clash between the anti-rejection drugs for his tongue, mild
prescription anti-depressants and a concoction of Xander's left
over herbal stress release tablets. Angel had been informed
that if taken separately, all the tablets had the ability to do
a lot of good but when taken together and in such large
unsupervised amounts, the clashing side-effects were patently
obvious.

Anne, the hospital therapist assigned to Wesley, had been
pleased to discover such a simple solution to a major problem,
but wanted the malnourished man to stay in hospital until all
traces of the herbal tablets left his system and Wesley had put
some weight on. The only real problem left was the ex-watcher's
almost non-existent self esteem and inability to speak properly.
With speech counselling, Anne was confident that Wesley would
be speaking close to normal eventually, the distorted image of
self-worth however, was going to take longer.

At the nods from his friends, the vampire sighed in relief that
there would be no arguments just yet. With a small smile, he
asked Joyce to pack a bag with some of Doyle's clothes and
toiletries, giving the smaller woman a brief peck on the cheek
as
she passed him. Turning his attention back to the two
ex-soldiers, he asked them if they would be able to handle their
mysterious employer's requests if they got a phone call.

"Yeah Angel, you know we can handle it. This is such good
news...the others won't be far away now"

His grin getting larger as Graham echoed Riley's sentiments, the
three men were distracted from their happy thoughts as the phone
rang. Crossing over to the hotels front counter, Angel absently
scratched at his inner elbow. Intent on getting the opening
spiel right for once, the vampire didn't take any notice as his
sleeve rode up while scratching, baring his track marked skin to
the horrified ex-soldiers.

With a look between them, Riley and Graham made their way into
the kitchen, Riley miming a 'drinking' motion at Angel. A
shake of his head, Angel concentrated getting the details of a
paying client.

Part Fourteen

December 13, 2004

Hyperion,

7.18pm

With one arm wrapped around Wesley's waist, Riley helped the
exhausted man up the Hyperion's main flight of stairs, Joyce
trailing a few steps behind them. Pausing for a few moments at
the top of the first flight of stairs, Wesley nodded for them to
continue forward. Shown into his old room, the ex-watcher
silently mouthed his thanks to Joyce for getting all the
destroyed furniture and soiled linen cleared away. Deposited on
a bed that replaced his own broken and battered one complete
with clean sheets and blankets, the weary man sighed as he was
once again home.

With a wave at the two hovering friends, he indicated for them
to go as he rested before attempting to undress.

"Would you like a cup of tea, something to eat? One of your
milkshakes maybe?"

"No thanths Joysh..but tiwrd...mihiit shweep"

"No thanks Joyce..bit tired...might sleep"

Resisting the urge to give a nervous giggle as she echoed
Wesley's words in a perfect pitch and accent, she did however
give in to the next temptation and gave the tired man a quick
peck on the cheek. Riley's arm clutched, she steered them both
out of the room, closing the door behind them so Wesley had some
privacy.

Fingers shaking as he fumbled with his shirt buttons, Wesley
debated with himself as to whether it was worth getting
undressed. It had been a long day for them all, Wesley
in particular. As he thought back to the day's events, he was
sure that he was going to sleep for the next week or so. The
morning had been annoying, he had been subjected to a therapy
session with Anne. There had been no escape for him as he had
been forced to listen to the dark woman repeatedly tell Wesley
that he still had a lot to offer the world. Something the still
painfully thin man had denied each time until his lunch had been
delivered and Anne had left. Never had he been so thankful for
the tasteless muck the hospital called food.

Reluctantly, he had drunk the vitamin-rich milkshake and had
forced himself to eat every last spoonful of a butterscotch
pudding that was allegedly jam-packed with essential amino acids
after being threatened with being tube fed if he didn't. Only
having just gotten rid of the bothersome tubes the day before,
he had been choking down the last of his gelatinous pudding when
Riley had poked his head around the door to his room. Wesley
had been overjoyed to see the man, not having seen him since
being admitted to the eating disorders ward at the hospital,
attempting to apologise at once for his previous behaviour at
the Hyperion. The ex-watcher had told the taller blond about
being able to think clearer now that he was off everything
except the medication for his tongue. The tortured sentences of
regret had been waved off as Riley had informed the ex-Watcher
of the mornings events.

Wesley had been grinning like a madman about Doyle being found
until Riley had told him of Joyce's new found abilities.
Something that he hadn't believed until Joyce had been called
into the room. Both of them had cried as the woman had repeated
everything that Wesley had said in the man's own voice. It had
been decided that Joyce had to be within a certain radius for
her to display her abilities, not having done it since Wesley
had been admitted to the hospital. The knowledge of what Joyce
was capable of had given him a glimmer of hope that he wasn't
totally useless after all. After a deep discussion, complete
with Joyce echoing Wesley's every word, it had been decided that
the ex-watcher would attempt to train the older woman in a
series of simple magic skills, hopefully leading to bigger and
better things. Admittedly, Joyce was nervous about getting the
delicate hand and finger actions wrong even if she would be
getting each word right.

As far as Wesley was concerned, the first thing was to find a
way for her to block the ability unless it was completely
necessary. Once the agreement had been reached, Joyce had left
to go to the supermarket, leaving Riley to inform Wesley about
Spike's latest dismemberment. After Angel had told their
mystery
employer that Wesley would be staying in the hospital, a tiny
gold and mauve package had appeared on the hotel's front desk.
Once opened, all had been horrified to see two elongated canine
teeth nestled in the box, fresh blood and flesh still covering
them.

With a shudder at the thought of Spike having his game face
fangs ripped straight from his mouth, the weary ex-Watcher
hurriedly lay on the bed as a dizzy spell threatened to tip him
from his sitting position and onto the floor. It had taken all
of his newly restored concentration to listen as Riley had told
him of both ex-soldiers suspicions that Angel was using drugs,
something that Wesley had started to laugh about until the
taller blond had described the vampires frequent naps that had
gotten to the point that they were almost every second day.
What had stopped the strangled laughter had been Riley quietly
telling him about seeing the track marks that decorated the pale
flesh that morning.

It had been this knowledge that had convinced Riley and Graham
that Angel wasn't capable of making decisions regarding other
people anymore, let alone himself. With that, Wesley had been
informed that he was coming back to the hotel as soon as Angel
boarded the plane for Baltimore, Graham giving the vampires room
a complete overhaul to see where he was hiding the drugs. As
Wesley had pointed out, Angel was living in a hotel with four
floors and countless rooms, there was no guarantee that he
was keeping them in his room if he was indeed on drugs.
Nevertheless, he had agreed with the ex-soldier, saying that it
couldn't hurt to scratch the possibility off the list.

The ex-watcher hadn't argued, only nodding that it was a good
idea. His heart had clenched at the possibility of Angelus
getting free again. Logically, he knew that it wasn't possible
after Giles and Willow had bound the vampire's soul to the
Griffin tattoo that decorated his shoulder, but when dealing
with
demons and magic, anything could be made possible. It had been
a suprisingly simple task, as long as just a single speck of the
tattoo ink remained upon Angel's body, his soul was permanent.

His head clearing a little, Wesley was jerked out of his
thoughts as there was a knock at his door. He smiled tightly as
he heard his invite to come in get echoed by Joyce. As Riley
and Joyce came in, he nodded a hello to Graham who gave him a
little wave, his stern expression never changing. Without a
word, all three came forward as one, just stopping in front of
the bed.

"Whath thu mather?"

"Whats the matter?"

Joyce's echo dying off in a spate of tears, Wesley stared at the
needles, large tablets and two vials being held in Graham's open
hand. With a shaking hand, the ex-Watcher gathered up one of
the vials, vision blurring as he tried to read the label, tears
making their way down his face. He couldn't believe that Angel
had sunk so low, to reach a stage that the only escape for him
was to stick a needle in his arm.

"I'm going to get one of the tablets analysed tomorrow but
judging from the vials, its probably some animal thing...not
sure what though"

"Makths thenth, thu animul dwugth. Angleth isth a vwampire und
bwug un ath thath"

"Makes sense, the animal drugs. Angel is vampire and a big one
at that"

Nodding at Graham's words, Wesley leaned into Joyce's arms as
she
sat on the bed beside him, body shuddering with the effort not
to start howling in front of the other two men. He knew that
the
proverbial shit would hit the fan as soon as Angel stepped
through the Hyperion's doors. Wesley spoke everyone's immediate
thought, echoed by Joyce.

"Heth on dwugth und weth leth hum go unth geth Dooyl"

"He's on drugs and we've let him go and get Doyle"

Part Fifteen

December 14, 2004

Elder Lapp's farm, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.

8.01 pm


"What the fuck do you mean he's discharged himself?"

Pacing back and forth, the angry vampire kicked at the stray
bits of straw that had fallen from the huge bales that occupied
one half of the feed shed. His previous reluctance to be
exposed to the chilly night was gone, only to be replaced with
an anger that was doing it's best to burn him from the inside.
His whole euphoria of being re-united with Doyle was rapidly
fading to an idle flicker.

"How can you possibly allow an obviously sick man to just walk
right out....HOW?"

"NO! I won't fucking well calm down..I..I just can't understand
it. What did he do? Throw on some clothes and give you all a
wave goodbye as he walked through the doors?"

Head throbbing, Angel continued to pace, his long legs covering
the width of the shed with ease. As the nurse on the other end
of the phone continued to try and calm him down, the brunette
felt his face ridges rise, the placating tone of the woman doing
nothing to ease his fear of Wesley's condition.

"Evaluation? He passed it? Wesley wasn't even in your goddamed
hospital long enough to warrant an evaluation..you stupid
fuc...hello? HELLO?"

The brunette's body trembled with the need to destroy something,
his eyes yellowing as the emotion of pure anger flowed through
him. Mobile phone creaking in his hand as he tightened his
grip, Angel very slowly and deliberately put the small device on
the stone floor next to him and with a sedate kick, sent it
skidding across the floor before he gave in to the temptation to
bite it in half. Counting down from ten, the vampire found that
as he reached the number two, he really wasn't in the mood to be
calmed so quickly. As the distant bellows of the farm's cows
reached his ears, the brunette wondered if Elder Lapp would miss
a cow or two, the idea of ripping one apart in sheer rage
suddenly appearing very tempting.

Tripping over an uneven edge of a stone paving block, Angel felt
his headache take a turn for the worse as his nerves frayed just
a little more. As he steadied himself with a hand on a hay
bale, the vampire gave the prickly bundle a solid punch with a
clenched fist. Jaw tightening, he gave the defenceless stack
another punch with his right fist..another with his left, which
led to it being lashed at again with his right. Angel punched
the nurses who let Wesley leave the hospital, he lashed out at
the soldiers who had maimed and murdered his friends, delivered
a punishing kick to his unnamed employer but most of all he
vented his rage at those who had taken his best friend's eyes.

Soon the brunette was punching at the bale with all his
strength, ripping out handfuls of the light yellow straw. The
cold floor was sprinkled with shredded feed as Angel continued
to take out his anger on the huge stack. The vampire was shocked
out of his concentration at a loud bellow that seemed to come
from right beside him, his anger and headache starting to
dissipate as he realised just how stupid he must look. Panting
with un-needed breath, Angel turned to see a cow standing only a
few paces behind him, staring at him curiously. For a good long
few minutes, the cow and Angel contemplated each other, the
breath of the large animal frosting in the chilly winter night's
air. At another mooing sound, the cow snuffled at the vampire
before putting it's head down to gather up the straw covering
the shed floor.

With all his anger dying down to a warm billowing trapped behind
his ribcage, Angel walked past the feeding cow to his phone as
his face melted back into his human features. Picking it up, he
dialled the Hyperion. Absently, the vampire rubbed his
unoccupied hand along his muscled arms as the cold threatened to
creep under his skin. Phone ringing, the brunette looked as his
watch, astonished to see that he had been out in the feed shed
for a good hour. Hoping that his absence wouldn't worry his
host's too much, Angel waited for someone to pick the phone up
on the other end.

"Graham, it's me"

"Fine...he's sleeping at the moment. He..he isn't in the best
condition. Eye's...some...*prick* took his eyes. Took them out
and sewed him up"

"No..no, that's the worst but his demon side must have taken
over at some stage as he's sort of trapped between human and
demon state. His skin is greeny blue but he doesn't have his
usual spikes...hmmm? No, not really. It's more like smooth blue
skin"

"Elder Lapp? Uhhh, that's sort of a weird story that I still
can't wrap my head around and you how strange things can
get...Yep. Look, I've just rung the fucking hospital and
they've decided to inform me that Wesley has checked himself
out...just shut up for the minute and listen!"

"Graham..shut it! I want you and Riley to find him..I don't
give a flying fuck about any damn phone call..I want him found
and returned to the hospi...what?"

Stopping in midpace, the vampire found himself weak at the knees
as the smaller soldier explained how Wesley had been released
into Riley's care after being evaluated as able to leave under
supervision. Riley...Riley took Wesley from the hospital?

"Explain to me just what Riley did? NO..*All* of it!"

"Right...right..Really? He did that? Joyce cleaned the room
for him...mmmm. And..what did *you* do while all this was
happening? Really, sat at the desk just in case the phone rang?
So..you didn't think to give Joyce a hand with cleaning
Wesley's room...and I'm guessing you didn't bake him a fucking
welcome home cake either?"

"I'll be home...no, no..don't talk anymore Graham. I'll be home
with Doyle in a few days. We will *all* discuss this then"

Wesley was home from the hospital. Riley *took* him from the
hospital. He was to blame for Wes leaving the hospital. As the
rage exploded into full bloom again, Angel felt a dislike for
Riley being dredged up from a place in which he thought he had
buried it forever so long ago. That bastard, who the hell did
he think he was? Meddling in something that didn't involve
him...and come to think of it, it wasn't the first time it had
happened either. Call disconnected, the vampire slid the phone
into his pocket with a shaking hand.

With a cool smile, Angel realised that this was the second time
the younger man had interfered with one of his ex-lovers.
Indeed, the first one had been Buffy and now the man had his
sights set on Wesley. Riley had obviously taken advantage of
Angel being away for a few days, plenty of time for the
ex-soldier to start planting ideas in the ill man's head. Just
like Buffy. She had been at a vulnerable stage of her life as
well when Riley had made his move on her. Wesley was his and
always would be.

"MINE!"

Suddenly, the vampire shivered as his rage turned ice-cold,
something that only rarely happened, as his roar echoed around
the feed shed. Cow startled into trotting away, Angel snapped
his game face into place as he turned to follow the bovine, his
stomach rumbling with hunger and anger.

Riley.

Something to be dealt with later.

Part Sixteen

December 16, 2004

Elder Lapp's farm, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.

1.32pm


It was only the slight elevation of Doyle's heartbeat that
alerted Angel that his friend was waking. He couldn't bring
himself to look upon the half demons ravaged features, the scar
tissue decorating the Irishman's face was just a stark reminder
of how wrong things had gone at what was supposed to have been a
time of friendship and remembrance. Not for the first time,
the brunette vampire wondered just what to tell Doyle about what
had happened in the Magic Box after the half demon had been
taken, especially when Doyle would ask about his fiancee. Still
facing the darkened window, Angel gave a little start as Doyle
acknowledged his presence.

"Angel?"

"Yeah Doyle, it's me....how you feeling..I mean..?"

"Not too good actually.....my..my eyes"

Wincing at the resigned tone in the soft voice, Angel turned
towards the half demon laying in the narrow single bed.
Unneeded
breath taken, the vampire hesitantly took a few steps forward,
his gaze resting firmly upon Doyle's chest.

"I know"

Silence descended upon the small room, broken only by the sound
of a chair scraping across the floor as Angel sat himself next
to his friend. The vampire watched quietly as a blue green hand
fiddled with one corner of a thick blanket, one of four covering
the smaller man. The silence stretched as the two men took in
the presence of each other. Finally, it got too heavy for the
vampire.

"How did you know it was me?"

"Still got a nose, can smell you. Not as good as vamp or some
other demons obviously but better than the normal humans"

"Oh"

Lapsing into silence once again, Doyle ached to ask the
questions that were running rampant in his head but he knew that
once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop until he knew each
and every detail of the last months, and he really wasn't sure
if
he wanted to know. Angel, however saved him the decision.

"Cordelia...we..we haven't found her yet....I'm sorry Doyle..I
wish I could tell you better news but...."

"Cordy...Been thinking about her every day...love her so much it
bloody hurts...hurts worse than me eyes. Is she dead...? Are
you
looking for a body or is she still alive...? Did Wes do that
spell that he tried for Xander....? Shit, what happened with
him? Willow?"

"Angel, where's Cordy?"

His anger over Wes and Riley put aside for the moment, Angel
quietly told his friend just what had happened in the last
months. The vampire answered each question truthfully as they
came, starting with the one about Cordelia and why they had been
unable to find her so far and in fact any of them. Angel spared
no details about Wesley and his own mutilation, including Riley
and Graham's fingers. He informed the half-demon about Kate
Lockley being transferred to another precinct and into child
pornography, thus severing one of his major informants and that
almost all of his other demon contacts had disappeared or just
wouldn't talk to him.

"What about you doing the spell...you've got all ten fingers?"

"Doyle...If I could...if I had just a mere touch of spell
casting ability, nothing would have held me back, but I just
don't have any talent...not one grain. Wesley is...*was* the
magic user"

"Angel, just tell me everything from the start...please?"

With a sigh, Angel began.

"OK...you know what happened to the others..well, Spike and
Xander were taken by the same soldiers. Riley and Graham
reckon they were freelance mercenaries, apparently the
numbering of us was some sort of thing that a few military teams
are taught as a method of subduing people. Works *real* well
huh? I got both kneecaps shattered, took ages to heal because I
hadn't been drinking human. We all got taken to Sunnydale
General including Joyce, she went into shock while the rest of
us went into immediate surgery - even me until I vamped out. The
doctors and nurses took one look at me and then transferred me
to a dark room by myself. You wouldn't believe the explanation
they gave for my gameface and injuries...Self inflicted!"

"What?"

"Yeah..that's what *I* said as well. Anyway, they just dumped
me
on the hospital bed, made sure the curtains were closed and
left. You know Sunnydale..ignore it and it'll go away. Managed
to call Kate and she came down from L.A., claimed some personal
time. She managed to clear it all up without too many questions
being asked, pretty much threw her weight around which is what
got her transferred I think...she hasn't said too much about the
reasons behind the transfer. Uh, what next? Oh...Willy ended up
being a bigger help than I would ever have thought possible. He
was bullied at first by Kate but did a lot on his own as well.
He got Giles' lawyer to read the will in hospital once Riley
and Graham were out of surgery and the drugs had worn off.
Joyce was there as well but she was still in shock. Evan, the
lawyer, told us that Giles had left the shop to Xander, Willow
and Buffy with the proviso that Anya was to run the shop on
their behalf unless it was sold while the house was to be sold
and we all got equal portions of the proceeds."

"What did you do?"

"Well with Joyce still out of it and everyone else missing, Evan
arranged for the shop to be sold as well. The money for
everyone but Wes, Riley and myself is currently invested with
David Nabbit's company. Doing well too. Evan is looking after
the
others' money for them until we can find them, yours as well.
Joyce was told to move to L.A. along with Riley and Graham.
They ended up all moving into the Hyperion with me"

"Poor woman...she ok now though?"

"Good days...bad days. You wouldn't believe just how much work
we had to do. The soldiers had only given us four days to get
packed and back to L.A. and we did it as well. Riley and Graham
discharged the day after surgery, took me with them. Wes was
transferred to a micro surgery ward in L.A. Joyce discharged
herself the next day and surprisingly, got into the swing of
moving everything. She was the driving force behind it all,
with out her, we wouldn't have pulled it off"

At the break in Angel's narration, Doyle found his head spinning
at learning of what had happened to everyone after he had been
taken.

"Jesus! How much stuff was moved?"

"A lot. Ultimately, we moved everything from Riley, Graham and
Buffy's house and Giles' house. We left Willow and Tara's
apartment as it was, Joyce just packed all her clothes and
toiletries for the move. With everything to be moved and with
my knees, not to mention Riley and Graham's fingers and Wes
being in L.A., we ended up hiring professional movers. There
was about a dozen people in each house. Anyway, we got
everything back to the Hyperion and into a few of the spare
rooms on the third floor. Most of the rooms are taken up with
everybody's stuff"

"Thank the PTB for the hotel, huh?"

"Mmmm. What else? Wes got released another two weeks later
while Riley and Graham had to go back into hospital as both
their fingers got rejected. They had discharged way too early
and the fingers kept on getting banged around. They were both
pretty pissed at that"

"I'll bet!"

Angel told Doyle about Wesley's character change and
re-hospitalisation due to the cocktail of drugs he had been
taking, only briefly acknowledging the flare of jealousy that
exploded as he mentioned that Wes had been released into Riley's
care. Angel Investigation's new employer was described as well
as the vampire could, including the disgusting shows of power
with the still missing Spike. The brunette awkwardly patted at
the half-demon's shoulder as great shuddering tremors wracked
the
blue body.

"God...Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"How did everything get so fucked up?"

"I wish I knew, but I do know that there are bigger players than
just that Randall asshole. There has to be....He was..*is* a
pimp...he has no use for anything that we are told to retrieve.
Half the stuff...I don't even know what it is. I've kept
descriptions of it before handing it over but with Wesley being
so unstable, I haven't had a chance to ask him about it"

Before Doyle could make a comment, Angel exploded in
frustration. The last few months of stress and worry tumbling
from his lips.

"I mean...FUCK! We get told to do this..do that and we have to
do it because if we don't, Spike gets maimed and God only knows
what happens to everyone else? Sunnydale is completely barred,
we can't step one foot inside the city limits. Why? I don't
know. Joyce gets told to sell her house and art gallery, our
illustrious employer told her that she was to be the
secretary.....she doesn't even know the first thing about being
one, but does that matter? No! Riley and Graham must go with me
on each retreival..no excuses except when they went to hospital
and I've just told you what happened to Spike when I went
against the orders with Wes. Fangs..his bloody fingers..."

"H..how did Joyce get her stuff moved if she wasn't allowed
back?"

"Willy, of all people. He ended up getting everything
organised,
and even Kate got a phone call to say she was banned from going
back. Joyce was in tears for days, she couldn't bear the
thought of anyone else going through Buffy's childhood stuff.
It's all up on the third floor. Jesus....I haven't even told
you the spooky stuff yet!"

Taking a shaky breath, Doyle felt his stomach grumble with
hunger but gestured for Angel to keep talking while he was still
in the mood. After not having had a conversation with someone
for so long, it was good to hear a friend's voice at last,
especially one that wasn't touched with a German accent as well.
His body still trembling with the effort of the dry crying, the
half-demon took a few more deep breaths as his chest burned with
the need to start howling.

"Sorry....I'm so sorry Doyle...I..I shouldn't have go off like
that, its not what you need at the moment"

"What I need Angel, is to know what has been happening..please,
just keep going"

"Alright then. Drusilla, my second Childe..yes, the insane one,
she appeared at the hotel one day. Joyce called us all back and
in what can only be described as well...insane, the Oracles
spoke through Dru and we got told that this was my war and if I
ended up winning this, then I would get my reward. The whole
Shanshu thing. Dru also rambled on about everyone who had been
at the Magic Box that night...most of it is odd and pretty
gibberish but with Dru, there was always some sense to be made
when she had one of her future visions. We just can't make
sense of it yet, so none of us know what to concentrate on
first.
But apparently, everyone at the Magic Box has a part in this"

"Hang on Doyle, you haven't heard the weirdest bit yet..no,
trust me with this. Joyce has manifested a talent for speaking
as Wesley. I mean, the whole accent, tone, speech pattern..it
*is* Wes' voice. She speaks as Wes when he says something. She
hasn't done it since Wes went to the hospital but now he is out,
she should be doing it again. God only knows how this is
affecting her...as far as I know, she even does it in her sleep
if Wes is speaking. Graham sat with her a few nights, its only
when Wes yells that she wakes up. He yells and so does she"

Never in his whole life had Doyle wanted a drink more.
Actually, he could go for a whole bottle of whatever was on
offer thought the dark haired man. What a bloody mess! All
this time he had been sure that Cordelia was safe and sound with
Angel, even with Willow and the twins. With another shudder of
his weary shoulders, Doyle wished he could cry properly,
frustrated that he couldn't even vent his grief, his tear ducts
had been damaged when his eyes had been stolen from him.

"I'm tired Angel. I want Cordelia and I want to go home"

"I know. We haven't stopped trying to find her, both her and
the others and I'll be taking you home in a few days. You need
to rest up for a little bit longer....Can I get you anything?"

"No....well, bit hungry actually. Surprised that Samuel or
Rebecca haven't asked if we want lunch yet. God...everything is
so confusing. Even the bloody Amish farm isn't Amish..you know
what I mean?"

With a slight smile, Angel nodded at his friend, replying a
second later when he realised that Doyle would never see him do
anything again. Upon arriving at the farm, only two mornings
ago, he had been astounded by what Samuel had told him. It was
true, Samuel wasn't strictly Amish. Actually, Samuel wasn't
even
human. Both he and his wife were refugees from another
dimension. Angel had sat in the cosy kitchen, stunned into
silence at the farmers tale, he had asked how the Amish couple
had known that Doyle was a demon.

The Lapps ran a refuge centre for refugees escaping from their
home world, a half way house for demons who either stayed on
earth or jumped into a further dimension. The ones who stayed
were very few and those that did agreed to comply with the Amish
ideals, living out their lives in relative peace and quiet. Why
Amish was a question the Angel wanted to ask but hadn't for fear
of offending their gracious hosts. They had taken both his and
Doyle's demon status' in their stride, stating that they had
taken care of other species than their own. Even Angel's blood
had been served up without a raised eyebrow.

Angel just hoped that they didn't find out about the cow,
although he was sure that he had covered his tracks. Even if the
carcass was to be found, it would more than likely be blamed on
a pack of wild dogs.

"Yeah..I do..Doyle? Get some sleep, I'll go and see if Rebecca
can make something up..OK?"

With a nod, Doyle listened as the vampire left the small
bedroom, the idea of sleep becoming tempting. He was exhausted
and he wanted to be in much better shape than he was before
making the trip back to L.A. He just wasn't sure of what help
he was going to be to the taller brunette. Doyle hadn't had a
real vision since his eyes had been taken and he sure as hell
couldn't help the vampire out in a fight anymore. The visions he
had experienced while in solitary confinement had been strange,
more dream like and wispy than the usual surround sound ones
that he normally received. His mind drifting a little, the
half-demon wondered how Angel had coped with everything without
cracking. Pillow re-arranged to his liking, Doyle suddenly
gripped his head and bellowed as a vision hit him full force.

Part Seventeen

December 17, 2004

Hyperion Hotel, Library,

10.30am


"Are you sure it was Spike in your vision?"

"Yeah Riley, I am"

"Uhh, it's Graham actually...sorry"

Shoulders shrugged, Doyle gave a nod in the direction of the
deep voice, hoping he was looking at the right person. He had
already had this conversation with Angel the day before when the
vision had been only seconds fresh. Like wishing bad luck on
himself, he had only been thinking of his visions when one had
decided that it was time to re-start the visitations. The
vampire had come running it to see what the half-demon had been
yelling about and had caught him in mid-throes of a vision, both
deciding that it was a sign to return to L.A. on the next
convenient flight. Rebecca had been more than happy to help
Angel make a temporary Islamic head to toe covering for the
half-demon, a thin face covering and sunglasses completing the
disguise.

With a sigh, he told the two ex-soldiers, Wesley and Joyce
exactly what he had told Angel.

"It wasn't the nicest I've seen, and that's saying something
too.
From the looks of it, he was strapped down on a table in a
silver room. I..I really didn't get very clear 'scenes', it was
more like a few well chosen flashes"

"Why..I mean..What was so unpleasant about this one?"

"Christ...How do I put this? Uhh, I had a few flashes that
looked directly down on him and...well, lets just say missing
teeth and fingers are the least of his problems. What I'm
trying to say is that he looks like he's donated a few organs
and other essential bits and pieces"

A soft sob broke through the uncomfortable silence as each
person digested the new information, Joyce wishing she could
cuddle the bleached blond, no matter how much she knew he would
snarl at her. Wesley spoke up next.

"Didth uh sthee anfing elsth?"

"Did you see anything else?"

"I hate to say this but you two are freaking me out...sorry but
you are. No, but the thing is, this was the strongest vision
I've ever had...it wasn't the most painful but it was a lot
clearer and I could smell something as well, it was
rotten...almost like a decaying scent. That doesn't make sense
does it?"

Doyle answered Wesley's next questions with as much information
as he could, trying not to let Joyce's clearly pronounced echo
get to him. Yes, he had smelt things before in a vision but
never such an identifiable scent and no, he hadn't heard
anything either.

"Maybe there was nothing to be heard?"

"Quite the possibility...What do you think, Francis?"

Doyle agreed with Riley and Wesley's idea, surprised about the
notion himself. An independent question from Joyce and he
reluctantly told the gathered group about seeing Spike weeping.

"Oh God, Drusilla said he was, and I quote, "Crying like a
kitten" I was hoping that it was one of her nonsense sentences,
not something that was true. Angel told you about what Drusilla
said didn't he?"

"Yeah he did and he told me that she sort of combusted...Is that
true?"

The half-demon sat quietly, face turned towards Joyce's voice as
she told him in more detail of what had happened in the kitchen
only days before. As one, the four men and one woman agreed
that things were moving fast, almost too fast for them. They
were all pleased to be making such progress but with so many
things going wrong, they each felt like things were slipping
beyond their grasp.

"Something is pushing it to go fast, the PTB want this to
happen. I'm not saying that the PTB wanted you to lose your eyes
or for me to have Joyce speaking for me but it's just too
co-incidental for this to be happening naturally. I mean, you
have a major vision almost the instant you see Angel again after
months of only having as what you describe as 'soft and fluffy'
visions"

"So you think something major is going down and the PTB want
things to be ready for when it does?"

"It's only one theory but I really can't think of any other
explanation....can you?"

With a shake of his head as Joyce finished speaking for Wesley,
Doyle agreed with the ex-watcher. Wes was right. At Joyce's
offer of coffee and tea, the half-demon added a black coffee to
her list of one Earl Grey, a camomile tea and a decaf coffee.
A snicker escaped Doyle's lips as he realised just who the
herbal
was for, something that he could never imagine a tough soldier
would go for. As he heard Joyce leave the library, he felt a
tension slam into place, making him shudder slightly.

"Wes is going to train Joyce in spellcasting"

"Really? Is she even a bit talented at it?"

Leaning forward, the Irishman inclined his head towards where he
thought Graham was sitting, his attention captured completely.
He listened as Wes attempted to strangle out a reply, only to
suddenly wish that Joyce was back in the room to make the answer
clear for them all. Flinching slightly as the ex-watcher
viciously swore, he was surprised when Graham took up what Wes
was trying to say. Obviously it had been discussed by the group
before and it was something that Angel had no idea about as
well, Doyle was sure it would have come up before now if the
vampire did know.

"What? You telling me that Joyce may have been an uncalled
Slayer? Are you serious, because it's just too easy to yank my
chain at the moment"

"Serious, Wes was telling us that the Council kept watch on all
the uncalled Slayers for when they had their own children, and
usually one of them gave birth to a girl that would become the
Slayer. Sometimes they missed it because an unidentified Slayer
candidate and occasionally, a normal woman gave birth to the
next Slayer instead. Wes is hoping that she was an unidentified
candidate, not just normal"

"How...shit! Does Joyce know? How do they identify candidates
anyway?"

Leaning back, Graham let Riley take over the story as he watched
Wes nod at everything his blond friend was saying. Attention
turned from the conversation as he had heard it before, Graham
looked closely at the re-united member of the L.A. team. He
took in the weird skin colour, noting that it was actually quite
a pretty tone. Almost a light teal. How long Doyle was going
to be that colour, no-one was really too sure yet. Wesley had
put it down to the man's demon side emerging a little more
prominently to speed up Doyle's healing. Raising his eyes a
touch, the ex-soldier couldn't help but stare at the lumpy
uneven scar tissue that glued the younger man's eye lids
together. He had already heard the whole horrid story about
Doyle's confinement and abuse in the early hours of that
morning,
the telling leaving the Irishman exhausted and in need of sleep.
Something that Angel was still doing. Nine hours and still
counting, Graham knew that it was more than likely that the
vampire had taken a few tablets or even injected himself for him
to be out this long.

Graham had ended up secreting the drugs back into the same
hiding place as everyone agreed not to confront Angel just yet.
They wanted Doyle to settle in first. Riley, Graham and Joyce
decided that Wesley should get a bit more strength for when the
time came. They also wanted to know just what type of drugs
they were dealing with and until the analysis came back, they
had no idea. Graham had scraped one side of each tablet, gently
shaving a fine powder into a small ziplock bag until there had
been almost a quarter gram, he had been unwilling to send a
whole one in case Angel noticed that one was missing from his
stash. He had also gone and purchased a kit of five syringes
from the pharmacy in order to draw a small amount from one of
the
vials, again not wanting Angel to know a syringe was missing.

Wes had been worried that the vampire would smell everybody in
his room, knowing that only he and Joyce could give a good
reason for being in there while Angel had been away. So, Joyce
had done her first 'teamie', a deodorant spell. One that mixed
peoples aroma's into a pleasant herbal smell. It had taken a
few tries and a failure before getting it right. The failure
had been in the practice room that Wes had claimed on the fourth
floor, the room now stinking of rotten cabbage, a smell that was
refusing to dissipate. Overall, Wes had been happy with the
outcome.

Snapping back to the present, Graham caught the tail end of the
conversation as Riley was explaining to a still bemused Doyle
that because it was possible that Joyce had been an uncalled
Slayer, it was his theory that she might be more in tune with
the nature of magic than possibly even Willow or Tara had been.
But as he had said, only time and practice would tell. With a
small chuckle, he laughed with the rest when Doyle pondered the
thought that maybe Willow was an uncalled Slayer herself given
her gift for the art of magic. Graham conceded that it might be
possible but from what he knew of the girl, she just didn't have
the killer attitude that Buffy had possessed.

"Does Angel know?"

The laughter stopped dead in it's tracks, Doyle's face suddenly
serious. He knew that there had to be a reason as to why Angel
didn't yet know and he just couldn't convince himself that Wes
was going to see how Joyce went before telling the vampire. Wes
was always up front about everything, informing them all about
all possibilities whether they panned out or not. For the
ex-watcher to be keeping something from Angel, meant that there
was a problem.

"No, he doesn't yet"

Head turned towards the doorway, he nodded in Joyce's direction
as she answered the question before anyone else could. As he
felt a warm mug get pressed into his outstretched hand, Doyle
listened in shock as Joyce described just what had been
happening with his best friend. Forgetting totally about his
coffee, he sat with an open mouth as he heard about the frequent
naps that had started only a few months ago. Naps that had led
to lengthy sleep periods that were almost every second day now.
At his stuttered question, Doyle was told of how Riley and
Graham were sometimes forced to shake Angel awake if they
received a phone call during one of his naps. He snapped his
body towards Graham's deeper voice.

"You actually shake a sleeping vampire? Are you mental? Mate,
if it was me...I'd be standing bloody twenty foot away and be
poking at him with a fucking big stick...no way would I actually
risk my neck and *shake* a sleeping vampire!"

"I know, I was like that the first few times as well but when
he's in one of his 'sleeps', he is so groggy for the first half
hour when woken, it's a wonder he doesn't break his neck coming
down the steps. I don't think he would be able to attack us
even if he wanted to, I'm pretty sure he would just fall out of
bed and go straight back to sleep"

"Huh!"

Finally taking a sip of his cooling coffee, Doyle wondered just
how fucked up things could get and if it was possible for the
universe to screw everybody's lives just a little more.
Snorting
to himself, he knew that it was highly likely that a major
'something' would happen in the next few days if the past was
anything to go by.

"Why haven't you asked him what was going on after the first few
all day sleep sessions...? I mean, why leave it to go on for so
long?"

"Uhhh..well, Ri and I looked in a few of Wesley's books about
vampires and we thought it might be some sort of hibernation
thing that vampires do under stress, you know, like re-charging
the batteries. The books were full of goobdleygook, we didn't
want to ask Wes because he was still sick and we didn't want to
alarm Joyce by jumping to conclusions. It wasn't until we saw
the track marks that it clicked"

Head hung just slightly lower than it had been before, Wesley
felt the shame flame across his face as he realised that if he
had kept a grip on himself, he could have stopped Angel before
it had come so far. Another part of him acknowledged that it
was quite possible that Angel would have come to this point even
with Wesley making his concern known. If only he hadn't been so
selfish and had stopped thinking of just himself. He was only
just starting to come to terms with his disfigurement but it
shouldn't have been any excuse to ignore others who were in just
as much pain and inner turmoil as himself.

His reunion with Angel that early morning had been less than
ecstatic, the vampire giving him a cold look before ignoring
everyone once Doyle had been settled into his old room. Every
attempt from Joyce, Riley and Graham to speak with the tall
brunette had been rebuffed, Angel letting his feelings be known
by slamming his bedroom door. Wesley knew that the vampire was
probably feeling betrayed by people he trusted to follow his
leadership but the ex-watcher agreed with his co-workers, Angel
was not capable of making decisions concerning other people
anymore. Not while he was still on drugs, even if they were
just
sleeping tablets. Wesley hadn't been expecting flowers or
chocolates nor had he wanted a few lines of lovesick poetry, but
he had been looking forward to a smile and few quiet words from
his ex-lover, something that he was now clear-headed enough to
appreciate.

He was still feeling slightly musty headed but he knew that it
would eventually pass, as would his feelings of inadequacy. Wes
wanted nothing more to just sit down and talk with someone about
how overwhelmed he felt but with both therapists dead, he had
no-one to turn to and he wasn't about to heap more problems onto
one of his co-workers, even if they did offer their shoulder in
the future. Idly, he wondered if Doyle knew if the therapists
were dead, something that he hadn't known himself up and til a
few days ago when he had finally caught up with everything after
being out of it for so long.

"The thewapiths are dweath. Bwawbwa dieth fwom uh thwellfusth
awergy und the wun in Thunnydale culleth himthelth. I cawth
hulp buth think thath ith an athempth thoo itholath uth all tho
thath we hath no choith buth thoo do wath the phwoncalth thelth
uth thoo do. We are beingth itholathed fwom outhideth
inflwunthth"

"The therapists are dead. Barbara died from a shellfish allergy
and the one in Sunnydale killed himself. I can't help but think
its an attempt to isolate us all so that we have no choice but
to do what the phone calls tell us to do. We are being isolated
from outside influences."

"It's just too convenient for them both to die"

Riley was again thankful for Joyce's input with the
conversation, he hadn't understood a thing that Wes had just
said. Nodding to what Wes had said, he was pleased to see that
Doyle looked like he was thinking along the same lines. He
couldn't help but shudder a little as he took in how badly the
half-demon had been sewn up, he was sure a field surgeon in the
middle of World War Two would have been able to do a better job.
Plastic surgery would no doubt be able to fix most of the newly
formed scar tissue. Riley wondered just how Cordelia was going
to react when she saw Doyle next. Whether the pretty brunette
would accept Doyle with his disfigurement or be too horrified at
the sight to get over it. The tall blond was hoping that she
would stand by her fiancee, he was a good man and from what he
had said earlier that morning, the thought of marrying Cordelia
was one of the things he had clung to while in isolation.

The ex-soldier sat quietly as it was decided that one of the
first spells Joyce would be taught was the location spell,
fixating on Spike for the first attempt. As Doyle started
agreeing, he suddenly asked just what had happened to the
tracker Riley and Graham had implanted into Xander and if they
had had any success with it. Riley cursed inwardly as he saw
the hope that adorned the Irishman's face fall as Graham
explained that the tracker had been unable to focus on the
youth, the shorter soldier putting it down to the same jewellery
that had made locating Xander via a spell so difficult.

Ultimately it was decided that Joyce would start learning it
that afternoon while Doyle rested up some more, with Riley and
Graham keeping an eye on Angel once he woke.

Part Eighteen - Twenty-four