Title: Secrets Don't Make Friends (Pt 21-Something's Missing…)
Author: DivaDelilah (divadelilah@aol.com)
Description: Set in late Season 4, after Faith has body switched and is in prison.
Adam isn't in play, Spike is working with the Scoobies reluctantly.
Disclaimer: They're not mine, but at least I treat 'em right. Joss, Mutant Enemy,
and Fox own all…I'm just daydreaming.
Distribution: Fanfiction.net, assorted lists, and anything I okay. Just let
me know where it's going…
Feedback: Feed my addiction…pretty pleeeeeeeease with Spike on top?
Author's Note: Since writing this, I have spoken to a doctor and a nurse. It
is no longer considered helpful to place an object in the mouth of someone having
a seizure, unless (and it's unlikely) you are trying to keep their airway open.
The new practice includes loosening tight clothing and giving them space while
calling a medical emergency team. However for a non breathing vampire and artistic
license, I opted to keep that part in the story. Thanks-deli.
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Angel suddenly collapsed on the floor, his body shaking like he was having a
seizure. Xander's eyes widened in panic, and he yelled for Giles at the top
of his lungs. Wesley came running from the kitchen, and gasped at the sight
of his friend prone on the floor.
Giles came running down the stairs, assessing the situation as quickly a she
could. "He looks as if he's having a seizure. I doubt that's what's happening,
but nonetheless it can't hurt to take precautions. Xander, retrieve some pillows
from the guest room to prop his head under. Wesley, find something strong to
hold his tongue back. Remember he's a vampire and his jaws will crush normal
things. When you two return, I'll go in the kitchen and brew a small amount
of Hecate's Mark."
Wesley ran to find something they could use, and shrugged when the only thing
could find strong enough was a crowbar. "I'm sure he's had worse things
in his mouth in two centuries," he muttered. He walked into the living
room just as Xander came down the stairs and together they held Angel in place.
Wesley stared at his friend as his breathing became labored, the shaking increased,
and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Something is very wrong here,
he thought. When Angel's demon came forward, he shrunk back, but gradually he
realized it wasn't attacking him, just the unseen illness. "Rupert, what
are you concocting in there?" he asked, his eyes never leaving Angel's
struggling face.
Giles threw the last few roots in the mix, and leaned over the bar. "I
told you: Hecate's Mark." At Wesley look of utter ignorance, he sighed.
"Don't they teach anything to Watcher's anymore? Hecate's Mark is a very
harmless potion that will detect the exact number of spells or hexes on a person.
It works for us better than just a spell detector because always has a spell
cast on him…his curse. This will let us know if anything else is in the
mix causing him this trouble. Each spell will leave a different color spot in
a line to the area we apply it to. Dark spells like his curse will leave a dark
jewel toned color; those of the light will, of course, be lighter. The colors
will also tell us what kind of spell it is, like aura rings."
"Why don't people use this spell more often? It seems a very useful sort
of spell for a Watcher to have in arsenal."
"Yeah, G Man, what's the catch?"
"Xander, I've told you repeatedly- Nevermind. The 'catch' as you call
it is it only works right on demons. If you apply this to a human, it tends
to, well.."
"What?" Wesley asked sharply.
"Make them explode," Giles finished quietly.
"Well, no wonder they don't teach it anymore. I can't think of anything
more unpleasant to clean up," Wesley muttered. "Especially if an untrained
amateur was dabbling about with my spell books."
Giles acknowledged the jab about Willow and made a mental note to lock his
cabinets more securely. She was quite an inventive young woman when there was
something she wanted.
"Speaking of Wils, even if it is in the bad sense, where is she and the
rest of that crazy gang of girls I've kissed? Well, excluding Tara of course,"
he added.
"They went to the Museum library to follow up some lead Willow had on
that dreaded thing," Giles replied, carrying a small bowl of foul smelling
liquid out of the kitchen.
He knelt beside Angel and motioned for the other two to hold his arms down
jut in case. He carefully pushed Angel's sleeve up and daubed a few drops of
the brew onto his arm, blowing air across it. The potion dried as soon as the
air hit it, and the colors started to appear. A large, dark blue dot was first,
followed by a light pink dot. The three men shared a relieved look when they
realized that whatever spell Angel was under was one of lightness. When they
glanced back down, they were astonished to see the pink dot fading and the blue
dot slowly changing color.
"Extraordinary," Giles breathed, his eyes never leaving the tiny
dot as it lightened from a dark navy to light cerulean in a matter of seconds.
When the color stayed a solid blue, Angel's body stilled. His eyes glowed a
bright red, then his demon retreated. He slumped, out cold for the moment.
"Most intriguing," Wesley murmured, removing the crowbar from the
limp vampire's mouth and setting it aside. "Have you ever seen anything
like that?"
Giles shook his head emphatically. "No. It was like the pink dot's spell
was modifying Angel's curse in some way. I can't wait until he wakes up to ask
him what he feels like."
Wesley nodded in agreement, then turned to Xander. "Perhaps you could
fetch a cold cloth for his head, and heat one of the pig's blood packets in
the fridge? Giles and I will clean up the chess board mess while we wait for
him to awaken."
Xander hopped to it, and the Watchers sat, staring at the Angel's prone body
together. Xander returned with the cloth and they placed it on his head, still
examining him for the slightest movement. It was imperative they find out what
had happened to their friend.
******************************************************
Spike raised his head from Buffy's lap slowly. Something's…different.
I can sense it. He sniffed the air carefully, trying to ascertain if something
was watching them, or worse stalking them. Nothing but the flowers and Buffy's
cologne caught his attention, but he still cut his gaze around, examining their
surroundings.
"What's up, baby?" Buffy yawned. They hosed themselves off at a beach
shower after making love in the sand, then walked hand in hand to the park,
where they were currently half napping under a large tree.
"I don't know. Something feels…off. Do you feel it?"
Buffy searched around in her mind, trying to locate the feeling he was describing.
A frown creased her face as she found a small spot inside where she felt unbalenced.
He was right; something was wrong. But what? "It feels like someone, not
something, is different. I'm not sure if it's good or bad, but it is certainly
not normal. Did this just start? And why didn't I notice it as quickly as you?"
"Maybe it has something to do with the claiming. Maybe it's something
in you that's changed, although I don't really think that's it. Maybe it's someone
I have closer ties with than you. But we only know a few people in common…"
"And only two of them could be closer to you…oh, God, it's Angel.
We have to go. Now." She got up abruptly, dumping him off her lap
onto the grass.
Her face belied none of the panic Spike could feel radiating from her every
pore. "Relax, pet. We're vampires, er, sort of. We can run there faster
than you could drive. Ready to fly?" he asked, taking her hand and smirking.
She grabbed his hand and squeezed and they took off together. Spike said something
that could passed as a prayer under his breath as they headed toward Giles'
house.
****************************************************
Buffy and Spike arrived at the apartment just as Angel was waking up. A quick
conference with Giles and Wesley confirmed their fears: something was up. Buffy
paced the room frenetically, her worry blanketing the room with tension. Finally,
Spike yanked on her arm, pulling her onto his lap on the couch. She glared at
him and made to get up. Then she heard his voice in her head.
'Luv, why don't you just dip into his mind and see what you can find? I
don't know if it's possible, but maybe you can figure it out by peeping a bit.
I didn't say this out loud because the Watchers wouldn't let you do it. I wouldn't
let you if I could do it instead. He's bound to have some pretty sick things
in there, and I don't want you to get hurt. So if it's too much, get the hell
out, okay?'
'Yeah, I get it. Lemme get comfy and I'll try.' She thought in reply.
Buffy situated herself on Spike's lap and stared at Angel, concentrating on
getting into his mind. Her face scrunched up as she slipped past his mental
wards to get into his inner most thoughts. She searched around, inwardly cringing
at some of the memories she was finding. She saw things about Angel and Spike
that she'd always wondered, and lately, fantasized about. She saw lots of blood,
sex, gore, and death. And then she found the motherload. She entered the part
of his mind that was helping to bind his soul to his body, and along with it,
she found a place where it felt like something was missing. It was like something
had been ripped away recently. Gasping, she shook her head, falling out of his
mind immediately.
"What? What did you find, luv? Cuz if it was me, he's making up. I didn't
do it, no matter what you saw," he declared forcefully.
Buffy smiled at him, her heart almost bursting with love for him, and then
winked. "I didn't see much I didn't like," she replied in a sultry
voice. Her demeanor changed rapidly, and she frowned. "What I did find
was that there is something changed inside Angel, and it seems like it has to
do with his curse. I couldn't get anymore than that. He has some pretty tough
mental wards put up." Her eyes grew troubled and Spike hugged her close.
"Why don't you tell the Watchers what you saw? Maybe it will help them
figure out what's up with the old pain in my arse," he teased. There was
a smile on his face but not on his heart as he looked at his Sire. For years,
he had hated Angel for taking Drusilla away, but since he'd fallen for Buffy,
that hatred had faded, and even more so in the past few days. It was like old
times, when he and Angel had been inseperable, and he had adored the elder vampire
in an almost obsessive fashion. He longed for Angel's acceptance and love again,
though he'd cut out his tongue before he'd admit it to anyone. Except maybe
Buffy. She, too, had a rocky past with his Sire, and knew what it was like to
yearn for him from afar.
A tap on his forehead brought him back to reality and he shook his head to
clear his vision. A quick glance at Buffy, her forehead ridged and yellow softly
shining at him, told him she'd been mucking about in his thoughts again. He
growled softly and she answered him playfully. Leaning in, she nipped his lower
lip and flicked her tongue across it. "Bloody hell, woman. Do you realize
I still have sand in places my mum never even saw?" Buffy giggled, and
Angel snickered from the couch. Spike quirked an eyebrow at his Sire. "And
suppose I said that you've probably seen them, though?"
Angel growled from the couch, but in his weakened state it sound more like
a puppy than a Master vampire. He sighed, and settled for flipping Spike off
instead.
Spike's laugh echoed through the room. "A bit testy there, poof? Not my
fault you're a pansy."
"I think that's enough witty repartee for today, you three. Now what did
I over Spike saying you should tell us, Buffy?" Wesley asked, a smug grin
on his face. He sat in the chair opposite hers, and poised his pen over a legal
pad.
Giles walked in, handed Wesley a cup of tea, and Angel his mug, then sat down
on a straight backed chair from the dining room. "Yes, and do be thorough
because we really need all pertinent details to investigate accurately, Buffy."
Spike glared at the Watcher. "And where's my mug, then?"
"Since you are no longer chained to the bathtub, I feel no compulsion
to make sure you are fed, Spike. I suggest you get that growth off your lap,
and walk yourself to the kitchen and get one. Your favorite mug is clean,"
he taunted.
"Oh, bollocks," he muttered. Sitting Buffy aside, he stalked to the
kitchen. As soon as he took the blood out of the microwave, he looked for his
mug. To his horror, the only clean one left was dreaded 'Kiss the Librarian'
mug form his tub days. "Oh, ha ha bloody ha, Rupert."
As he was making his way back to the living room, he heard Angel ask "When
was Spike chained to the bathtub?" and Buffy replying offhandedly, "Two
weeks ago.....oh shit!" then gales of laughter. That woman will be the
death of me, even if it is from embarassment....
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