This Mortal Dream

Cinder

Kind of a Buffy/Forever Knight crossover, but not. You'll see.

Pairing: A/X Ratin: PG this time. Promise. But lots of heart rending angst. If you know FK, you know why.

Distribution: list archives, WWOMB, Cleo, all others please ask

Feedback: Oh, yeah, feed the monster, baby! 13floor@angelfire.com

Summary: An answer to the To Much Forever Knight Challenge made by DeBrabant. Dr. Alexander Harris, M.E. meets a vampire on the examining table.

Disclaimer: These characters are the blood sweat and tears of Joss Whedon. The duck lamp belongs to Schanke. Sydney appears courtesy of James Parriot.

Notes: Let me start by saying that I love Forever Knight. I have almost every episode on tape and I still go back and watch them. I too am an N&N Packer and was really excited by this challenge. That having been said, I have no illusions about what sort of show FK was. It was cheesy and often silly. In good BtVS tradition I have tried to replicate that here. So, when you say to yourself something like "that's not factually accurate," just take a cue MST3K, "you should really just relax." It's a cheesy sci-fi vampire show. Oh, and since we exist in the parameters of the Forever Knight show, these are Forever Knight vampires.

If you're not familiar with the FK mythos, don't worry; I'll try to establish everything as I do it.

In making this story my idea was to start with the casting of Xander as stated in the challenge and then recast FK with Buffy characters. As I did so I found a whole new A/U for both shows which exists in a timeline all my own. Smile and nod. Thank you.

Thanks to everyone who sent me last names for Faith. I'm using Pandora's idea of Wilkins. Makes sense to me.

By Cinder

"Hello dear friends, it's your old pal Spike. I hope you're all having a pleasant evening. Bit of nasty weather out there. Wouldn't want to be caught in it. Might melt. Time for all the little kiddies to be inside. Your short, mortal lives might be in peril otherwise, sickness, death, disease, death... Yes, my dear listeners, you could go at any time. Best for you to remember that. Live for the moment. Live like an immortal. But tonight, tonight is a wonderful night for a fire and a glass of red...wine. Kick back without a care in the world and listen to ol' Spike."

Strains of The Smith's "Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want" filled the night air.

High above LA a plane was in trouble. Careening madly in the storm, it tipped and flipped, it's small engine unable to take the strain. Rain pounded against it, winds buffeting it this way and that. It was only a small, commuter plane. No one had anticipated this kind of weather. No one had anticipated any extenuating factors. And she went down. All thirty-two passengers were killed on impact, except one, but he was dead to begin with.

Dr. Alexander Harris, Xander to his friends, was seeing double...no, triple. Boy, the night shift sucked. Why did he do this again? Oh, yeah, help people. Riiiiiiiiiiight.

"You okay, Xander?" Wesley asked.

"Yeah, Wes, fine. I just need more coffee." He looked around at the FOP gym they had turned into a temporary examination room after the plane crash. So many bodies. It seemed like there was blood everywhere.

"How many are left?"

"Just one more. You go home and get some rest. I can handle it from here."

"And let you have all the fun?" I grabbed the next folder out of his hand. "Just show me the body bag. I'm rearin' to go."

"Perhaps we could do without the commentary?"

"Not a chance."

"Thought not." Wesley smiled softly and pointed out a body bag at the back of the room. "I'm going to go make more coffee."

"There isn't any."

"What?"

"That was the last pot. We used it up." Xander hit his thigh nervously with the file. "I could go out and get us some breakfast."

"Nonsense, I'll go."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Just don't come back with anything bran, okay?"

"On my honor." Wesley crossed his heart as he left.

Xander turned to what was hopefully his last body bag of the night. "Hmmm, I think cause of death might be...plane crash? Just a thought."

He snapped his lips shut as he realized he was talking to himself, but then laughed when he realized there was no one to hear him anyway.

"Okay, let's see who you are." Very slowly, Xander pulled down the zipper. The body did the last thing he'd ever expect a body to do, it sat up. "Bwah!"

Aside from animation, it still looked like a corpse. Blood dripped freely from punctures and holes all over the body. His shoulder hung at an odd angle and his face and arms were a mass of bruises. His clothing was in tatters. Him, it, whatever leapt off the table, shoving Xander away, and attacked the supplies he and Wesley had brought with them from the M.E.'s office, just in case. Xander landed on his ass with a thump.

"Hey, you could ask nicely." Which was probably the stupidest thing to come out of his mouth in a long time. The figure, which was now crouched over his supplies, slowly turned to face him. Xander saw he was slurping on a bag of O negative. His eyes were yellow and something was wrong with his face. "What are you?"

"I'm a bad dream," it whispered.

"Okay, this not being a Freddy Krueger movie, I ask again, what are you? Are you sick?" Xander approached slowly, trying not to startle the man. He was pretty sure it was a man at this point.

"I'm something better forgotten." He gestured with the now empty blood bag. "You got any more of this?"

"Not here. I know where I can get some. Why didn't you die like the others? What's wrong with your eyes?" He was within arms length now and ever so slowly he reached out to touch the man's cheek. Suddenly there was a noise at the door. "Quick, under the table. You've got to hide before Wesley sees you." Faster than you could say Jack Robinson the man was under the table, the long sheet protecting him from prying eyes. Xander put down the medical file.

"I got bagels."

"You're a total life-saver." Xander smiled, helping himself to the food in the other man's arms. "I opened that body bag while you were out, but there must have been some mistake, it's empty. I'll need to file a report."

"Empty?"

"Yup."

"Most odd."

Xander nodded, happily munching on his bagel and slurping orange juice. "I could sleep for three days straight, maybe four."

"I'll turn in the reports if you like. You did attempt to do the last one, after all."

"Hey, no need to find the body. I can already tell you what killed him." Xander grinned. "It would be great if you turned the reports in, though. Then I could go straight home."

"It's no problem at all." Wesley gathered together all of the necessary documents and then stood. "A pleasant evening as usual Dr. Harris."

"It's the company, Dr. Pryce. I keep telling you, it's the company."

Wesley left.

Xander waited until he heard the sound of Wesley's car pulling away before he called, "You can come out now."

The bloody figure, almost a shadow, crawled out from behind the table. He prowled warily around the room before turning on Xander again. "Why?"

"Am I doing this? I have no idea. I guess I'm a sucker for hard luck cases. Or maybe I was just a hard luck case myself once and I know how it feels." Xander smiled. "Or maybe it's my job." He sat back, crossing his arms and legs casually. "So, if I get you some blood, you gonna tell me what you are?"

"I think it's fairly obvious," He muttered.

"Okay, if I remember those stupid horror movies from my teen years correctly, you believe that you're a vampire." Xander stood and approached him slowly again. "Then why didn't you drink my blood? That's what vampires do, isn't it?"

"I'm one of the good guys."

"Ahhh."

Xander offered his hand, but the man declined to take it. He finally shrugged and put his hand down. "Dr. Alexander Harris. My friends call me Xander."

"Angel."

"So, if you really are a vampire or at least believe yourself to be one, sunlight bad, right?"

"Yes."

"You'd better come home with me then. I'll run out and get you some blood when you're settled. Then you can tell me all about vampires and stuff. Okay? My car is outside." Xander gestured for the tall, dark man to walk with him. "I gotta say, you do look like I would picture a vampire."

"Really?"

"Yeah, tall, dark, European features. You're very convincing."

"Thank you, I think." Angel shrugged uncomfortably. "Look, could we not talk about it?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Whatever you say." They walked the rest of the way in silence. Xander's car was an old Nissan with broken air conditioning, as much rust as paint along the bottom. Neon pink fuzzy dice hung from the rear view mirror.

"I thought you were a doctor," Angel teased.

"I work nights. It's not conducive to car shopping. Nor is an M.E.'s salary good for paying off student loans" They both climbed in. "Welcome to zee Xander mobile." It started on the third try. "Not too bad tonight."

"Yes, my gentle listeners," floated out of the radio, "another beastly night comes to its ghastly end. When you're toiling tomorrow at your jobs remember ol' Spike - "

Angel flipped the radio off.

"Hey, I like him," Xander protested. Angel just stared off into the distance. "Oooo-kay. Doing the tall, dark, brooding vampire thing. I see. It's okay. I can dig it. Anybody has got to be better at it than Brad Pitt." He smiled. "Your injuries look better. Want to tell me how you walked away from that crash alive?"

"Vampires aren't technically alive to begin with."

"Ahhh."

"Could you just drive?"

"Your wish is my command, oh brooding one." Xander grinned to himself. At the light he picked up Angel's wrist. "Wow, you're cold."

"What are you doing?"

"Checking your pulse."

"I'm dead! I don't have a pulse!"

"Shhh, shhh, calm down." Someone behind them honked. The light was green. Xander pulled forward again. "Okay, no pulse, not alive. Of course I believe you. Just calm down. We're nearly home." So saying, Xander pulled into a parking lot behind a brick building. "Come on. Let's get you upstairs before dawn."

"I can take care of myself," Angel hissed.

"You're still hurt. Let me help you." Again, moving slowly and deliberately, Xander stroked Angel's cheek. "You believe you need blood to heal, right? I can get that blood for you. Now, come upstairs before the sun rises. The sky is getting lighter out there." Angel nodded.

"Good. Follow me." Xander showed the vampire up to his apartment, briefly wondering if this need he had to help the less fortunate was about to get him killed. The 'vampire' hadn't attacked him when he'd had the chance though. Xander opened the door and walked in.

"Uh..." he heard from the doorway.

"What?"

"You have to invite me in."

"Oh. Uh, come in." Xander smiled, watching the odd ritual as the man came in and inspected the room. "You can close the curtains. Want some tea? Coffee?"

"No."

A soft mewling called Xander over to the corner. "Hey, Sydney. Hungry?" He put some food in the cat's bowl.

"So, I'm not the only pathetic creature you've taken in?"

"Sydney is not pathetic," Xander protested. "I guess you're right about the rescuing though. I found him a few years ago when he was half starved and cold, took him in, and now look at him, thinks he owns the place."

"That's a cat for you."

"Cats are better than men, I always say." Suddenly aware of what he had just said, Xander clapped a hand over his lips. "Oh, I did not just say that. Women, women, cats are better than women." He smiled ruefully. "Sometimes I babble in the morning. Look, I'm going to go get that blood now. You lay down on the couch. There's a blanket on the back of it. Try to get some sleep, huh. You don't need a coffin or anything, do you?"

Angel smiled. "No, no coffin."

"Good then. Uh, later." Xander backed out of the apartment. With shaking fingers he locked the door and then combed his hair back. "I really need some sleep," he whispered to himself as he stumbled back down the stairs, but he knew he couldn't leave that man without food. If whatever his psychosis was said it needed blood, well, Xander would get blood. Maybe he could coax something solid into the man as well. His mind was racing overtime, trying to figure out how Angel might have survived the plane crash. If he'd been behind a seat and then collapsed just the right way and the seat in front of him collapsed just the right way and... It could be done. It had happened before. Amazing things happened every day if people would just take the time to look around and see them.

He drove over to the clinic he volunteered at on Saturdays. They always had blood in the fridge. No one would begrudge him a pint or two.

Two pints sounded about right. He could replace those easy before they were even missed. The car drove there on its own, or could have for all Xander was paying attention. All he could think about was tall, dark and handsome.

It seemed like he was tiptoeing back into his apartment in no time at all. Angel was asleep on the couch, the green, fuzzy blanket pulled down over him, so Xander stowed the blood in the fridge. For a moment, he just stood there, staring. The man's long, muscular body dwarfed the furniture in a way that Xander was positive wasn't comfortable.

Finally, knowing that he *had* to know, he swallowed hard and marched over there, plunking himself down on the coffee table. Unopened mail crackled beneath him. Careful not to wake Angel, he picked up the man's wrist. Cold. No pulse. No, had he died while Xander was at the clinic? Xander reached for the other pulse point at Angel's neck.

The vampire grabbed his wrist.

"Gahhh!"

"I told you not to do that."

"You don't have a pulse!" Xander was panting for breath. Angel just glared at him. "No, no, you should not be walking around right now. Things without pulses are dead. They do not walk around. They do not talk. They do not sleep on my couch and - "

Angel clamped his hand over Xander's mouth. "I told you what I am. Now, you can accept that or you can rationalize it away as some bad dream you barely remember having. Either way, I'll be gone by tonight."

"No." Xander pulled the hand away from his mouth. "No, I just... Wow, uh... Hold on." He stood up and started pacing. Angel watched, the edges of his lips cracked up in amusement. "Okay, you're a vampire."

"Where's your bedroom?"

"Why?"

"I think you need to get some sleep." Angel's eyes bored heavy on the young man's mind.

"Sleep, yeah, sleep." Xander collapsed. Angel caught him before he hit the ground.

Xander woke to the clock radio going off. Dusk permeated the room, the last vestiges of golden sunlight dancing among the dust motes. "Rock the Casbah," floated out over the bed. Yesterday... yesterday... plane crash. Such a late night. It seemed so surreal. He didn't even remember coming home and certainly not coming to bed... Xander lifted the dependable, navy-blue, Sears blanket. Naked. He never went to bed naked, at least not without company. His morning, or what served to be morning, hard-on was in full evidence though, rubbing against the crisp, cotton sheets.

"Oh, man." He glanced at the clock again. There was time. He reached for his cock, palming the heavy shaft, sliding velvet skin tight in his fist, calling up his favorite fantasy, the salty sea air, the rock of the ship, the wind in his face, Leo's arms wrapped tight around him, those perfect lips sucking on his ear. His silibent whisper, "Oh, Xander, you know how much I want you." A hard erection humped against his ass. "Oh, yes," he whispered back.

"Good evening, sweetlings," the radio purred. "It just warms the cockles of my non-beating heart to know you're all listening to me tonight. Another blasted sun has set and we, us creatures of the night, emerge."

As fantasies do, this one moved without explanation or reason below decks into the back of that old car. Steamed old car. And boy could Leo do some steaming. He imagined those full lips teasing across his chest before trailing down to his cock. Smiling, his fantasy self wrapped its fingers in that blonde hair and pushed Leo's pretty lips down over his dick. Looking up, he stared into the white satin lining...like a coffin... He looked down again and a much darker figure knelt between his legs.

"The moonbeams kiss the sea:

What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?(1)
Frangelica swallowed over ice is an after
glow; glazing and gliding lip prints swirl with
hops and schnapps in tumbler glasses from
icing sugar mouths and fingers hidden in shadows of
juniper's perfume on napes of necks and smalls of backs,
kisses climbing the crescendo from a toe.
Low words and high wails move in toffee silk sheets;
marriage of thighs, a sticky sweet trick of placing snowcaps on
nipples, a candyman's amaretto tongue feeling the
openings, lapping up a
peachy syrup from a rum trifle,
quieting the lemon drop quivers and whimpers under
raspberry fire between the legs.(2)"

Looking into imaginary brown eyes, Xander arched up and came.

He must have dozed off again, because when he woke it was well after dusk. Sydney was wandering around on his chest. He came to with a grunt.

"Think you could let a guy breath, Syd?" Then he glanced at the clock. "Shit! Why didn't you wake me? I am so late?" Rushing around, he managed to haphazardly dress and be out the door in twenty minutes, not a new record, but a respectable Harris-time. Wesley was sitting at his desk, waiting for him when he jogged into his office, the New England Journal of Medicine spread out in front of him.

"Well, Xander, was wondering if you were going to make it."

"Sorry, just running late. Yesterday must have tired me out more than I thought."

Wesley grinned. "I was just finishing up these reports. I checked and they still haven't found your body."

"Body?" Xander checked. Nope, all there.

"No, remember, yesterday, the last bag you opened was empty. Remember?"

Xander just stared at him for a moment until he suddenly jerked with the memory. A tall, dark man over him, going home with him, telling him to sleep, whispering in his ear, telling him to forget. It seemed like a dream. "Oh, yeah. Empty bag. Maybe we should go down to the gym and take a look around."

"Good idea."

Xander's stomach rumbled and he smiled ruefully. "That way we can swing through the drive thru on the way."

"Why am I not surprised?" Wesley smiled. "My car though. I know what that rattle trap you drive is like."

"Whatever you say, Doctor." Xander grinned and followed Wesley out of the office. Wes, being his boss, made quite a bit more, or so was apparent by his choice of vehicle, a Volvo with shiny new paint. "Sweet," Xander told him.

"Well, yes, thank you." They both slid in. "It does the job."

"I didn't think the student loan office let us have these before fifty."

"Shhhhh."

"And is impressive enough for Miss Chase?"

Wesley blushed. "Indeed." They pulled out.

"How is Miss Chase, by the way?"

"Cordelia continues to be well. She's still working for that Gallery over on Sunset. She'll be famous someday though, she and her agent assure me." He settled back for the ride, smiling slyly. "I guess I don't care much as long as she's happy. If fame will make her happy then..." He shrugged.

Xander grinned. "As someone who has actually been to one of her plays, I feel silence would be good here."

"You like your job, don't you."

"Yeah, boss."

"It wasn't that bad," Wesley protested.

Xander just stared at him. "MickeyD's on the left," he finally said. "You're buying."

"Me? Why me?"

"Theatre trauma, which you sicked on me." They pulled through the drive thru. "I still have the shakes on moonless nights. It's all your fault."

Wesley snorted. "Sue me."

"That is not a joke in our profession." They both laughed.

"Order?"

"Double quarter pounder meal, large and two apple pies. Coke."

"Did you or did you not autopsy mister grade five heart attack a couple days ago, dig fat out of his bloated arteries?"

"Your point?"

Wesley sighed and turned to order. "A number 4, super size, with a coke, 2 apple pies, a garden salad and a water."

"Walking the tight rope with a net, man. That's no fun."

"Shut-up." Wesley pulled forward and grabbed for their food, knowing that Xander would finally shut up once he was stuffing his face. True to form, Dr. Harris buried himself in his burger and promptly got mayonnaise all over his face. As Dr. Pryce was fond of pointing out, he was lucky he didn't perform autopsies this way.

By the time they got to the gym three of LA's finest were already waiting for them. "Detectives," Wesley called out. "Sorry we're late. I brought the reports with me. I'm afraid this is really a case for the FAA." He handed the files to Detective Lindsey McDonnell. "All we found were victims of a plane crash."

"And one body bag," Xander muttered.

"Ahh, yes, that does seem to be the one mystery. There's a body missing. Other than that..." Wesley shrugged.

"We're homicide, not missing person's," Detective Faith Wilkins reminded him, pursing her full lips.

"Well, I'm pretty sure he's dead," Xander offered. "Just don't know where he is." He looked at the charts. "A Liam McDowell is missing."

"What about the bites?" Detective Buffy Summers asked quietly from the background. "I heard there were some mysterious bites."

Wesley nodded. "Most mysterious. The best Dr. Harris and I could figure was there might have been a dog loose. As isolated as the plane was at the crash site, we're lucky we got to the plane as soon as we did."

"Big bites," Summers challenged.

"Bear?" Xander shrugged. "I know they were inconsistent with most animals, but what else do we have to go on? Maybe a mountain lion? That's about as big an animal as we could come up with. Some of the bodies were bitten completely in half, inconsistent with any known, living animal other than the crocodile, but I doubt you're going to find crocodiles in the hills of California. Perhaps the crash itself broke the bodies and then they were chewed by the animals. Could be."

Summers pursed her lips and nodded, taking the proffered folder from Wilkins to look over. "Of course. There's an explanation for everything."

"Always," McDonald assured her. "Dogs," and stared hard into her eyes like he was trying to convince her as much as himself and everyone else in the room.

"Absolutely. Really big dogs. Hey, I got things to do. I'll catch you guys later, right?"

They all nodded and watched Summers go.

"She is just too weird sometimes," Wilkins commented.

"Well," Wesley stood, "if that's all, Dr. Harris and I have much fun waiting for us back at the morgue."

"You want us to call you if we find that body?" McDonald asked.

"You know," Xander called back. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say he died of a plane crash. Might make Mr. McDowell's family feel better if somebody went up there and kinda poked around a bit though. I'm sure they're not going to be happy with us for losing it."

McDonald and Wilkins both grimaced.

Indeed, much inner-intestinal fun did await them back at the morgue. For the next week he buried himself in work. It was good. It kept his mind off of his loneliness. For some reason, working the graveyard shift wasn't conducive to meeting people, he had no idea why. So he ate lots of ice cream, spent quality hours with Sydney and tried not to remember there was a life he wasn't really living. In the back of Xander's mind he wondered about tall, dark and handsome, but obviously this Angel person was not just going to pop up around the next corner.

Or maybe he was...

"Bwah!" Xander grabbed his chest before his heart jumped out of it. "Don't do that!"

Angel, who had just come around the corner, headed down into the heart of the morgue, helped him to stand up. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. My name is -"

"Angel." Xander grinned ruefully. "I remember. Even though you told me not to. Neat trick by the way."

Angel frowned. "I see."

"So, back to check-in or what?"

"You're taking this really well." Angel tried to smile, but it wasn't working. "You know, now that you know, vampire code says I have to kill you."

"Like the CIA?"

"Only not as many spy satellites."

Just then Detective Buffy Summers caught up with them. "Oh, Dr. Harris, we were just looking for you. I see you've met my new partner, Angel Dominguez."

"We just ran into each other." Xander offered his hand and this time Angel took it. So very cold. "Quite literally in fact."

"So, we're here about the Pendleton case."

"Ooo, yeah, just finished that one." Xander spun on his heel and lead the way down to the exam room. "He had his stomach ripped open. Second one this week. Wilkins and McDonald," He grinned at Summers, "who I *know* are your favorite people, have it." He snapped his fingers, trying to remember the name. "Marshall, Mathers, MadDog? Something like that. I can't remember exactly and I don't have it in front of me. My brain would fall out if it wasn't stapled in. Anyway, I autopsied both of them and I found identical teeth marks. Whatever did this is big and I mean big. These look like..." He frowned and looked up at them. "These look like the same bite marks from the plane crash. I want to know how our so-called mountain lion got down into the city and started learning how to jimmy door locks, you know." He frowned. "The body, what's left of it, is pretty clean, but half of it is missing."

"Missing?" Summers asked.

"Eaten as far as I can tell."

"Ewww, not nice." She shuddered. "Oh-kay, so what are we looking for?"

"Ya got me. I can tell you how he died, but what killed him..." Xander shrugged. "Guy with a pet mountain lion? Pet crocodile? Who knows. I'd check to see if there were any animal prints found at the crime scene."

Summers sighed. "Thanks anyway, Doc." She dragged Angel out of the exam room. Xander stared after them.

For the rest of the night he couldn't get into his work. He was distracted and sloppy. Wesley wanted to send him home more than once, but Xander protested he would buckle down and get to it. He didn't relish a night alone with his thoughts either. Finally he just broke down and offered to run some of the autopsy reports over to the station.

"Someone you want to see?" Wesley asked, astute as ever.

"Someone that might ease my mind, yeah." Xander smiled shyly. "One of my hard luck cases I'm worried about. You know I can never resist."

"Get then." Wesley shooed him out.

Xander grabbed his stack and jogged out the door. The night air was balmy and for the millionth time he was glad he didn't have air conditioning so he wasn't even tempted to miss a night like this. He stowed the reports in the passenger seat and tried the engine. Four tries later it actually turned over and revved up. Good sign, he thought.

"'ello, 'ello, and good evening my pretties. It seems that my bloody poof of a sire has pranced his way on into town, doing good, fighting evil and spreading the joy of nancy boy hair gel to all those in need. In honor of him I'm declaring it all Pogues weekend, all Pogues, all the time. And if you don't like it you can bloody well piss off."

"The Turkish Song of the Damned" followed. Xander smiled. Spike was the hottest underground DJ in LA, always doing something different, something wild. This weekend would no doubt be interesting. Xander wasn't sure there were enough Pogues recordings to fill two whole days, but he was sure Spike would come up with something. Spike was never afraid of breaking the rules, not even his own. By the time Xander got to the station they'd been through "Whiskey in the Jar," and were just beginning "Honky Tonk Woman."

Taking a deep breath for fortitude, he gathered up his autopsy reports and walked into the station. It was familiar. He'd been here many times when something was urgent or he just needed to stretch...or to see Lindsey. He'd had a crush on Detective Lindsey McDonald for a long time. Who could blame him? That blonde hair, those piercing blue eyes, that confident strut. Xander still blushed whenever he was alone with the guy. Lindsey probably thought he was a grade A idiot. But he wasn't here to see Lindsey this time, no, he was here to see Angel.

Smiling and nodding to the people he knew, he wandered the halls, handing off the folders to the appropriate people. Lindsey. Ahh, he could do this.

"Hey, Lindsey, got the Carter autopsy for you."

"Xander. Came down yourself tonight?"

"Uh...it was slow." He flushed and backed away. "Uh, later."

"Wait!"

"What?"

"The Pendleton case, I heard you did that one." Lindsey sidled up close enough for Xander to smell he was wearing Polo.

"Yeah."

"I can't get Summers to talk to me. It's the same as the Murphy case, right?"

"Yup, and it, uh, looks like the plane crash victims. I, uh, thought I, uh, told her. I might have forgotten."

"I doubt it," Lindsey whispered conspiratorially. "You know what a bitch she can be, really territorial. She just doesn't want to give the case up to Wilkins and me. She knows that if it's the same we get it. Ours first, ours now. She's a brown nosing ass." He winked. Xander had no idea what to say to that. "I guess you're not around here enough to see the politics."

"Uh, that would be a no. Wes and I like to stay out of it. We work nights for a reason, you know. Less people, more logic."

"Hah," Lindsey laughed, "I scoff at your logic. Give me good old politics any day. Then I know I can win."

"I bet you can." It was no more than a breathy whisper.

"What?"

"Uh, nothing. Hey, have you seen that new guy, Angel? I'm looking for him."

"Dominguez? Shadowing Miss Summers last I saw. He seems to be plastered to her." He gave Xander a hard look. "That doesn't bother you, does it, Xander?"

"What? Nah. I just have a report for him. So, if I can find him with Miss Summers, where is she?"

"Interrogation room three."

"Thanks." Lindsey did not look pleased for some reason, but Xander chose not to dwell on it. Instead he let himself into the observation room behind the glass of the interrogation room. Angel was back there watching Buffy interrogate some typical looking thug, the sort with a cigarette and a five o'clock shadow. "Angel?"

"What do you want?"

"What, you're not going to kill me?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a homicide detective. It would sort of defeat the purpose."

"That or make for a really easy case." Xander smiled and leaned back against the wall. "What did you do to me the other night?"

"I didn't hurt you."

"I didn't..." Xander balled his hands up in frustration. "I didn't say you did. What did you do?"

"I just...I had to make you forget. I just hypnotized you is all." Angel smiled. "We can do that you know."

"Really? How? Why? Is it -"

Angel held up his hand. "I have no idea of the physics of it."

"Oh." He scuffed his shoe against the floor. "Look, I wanted to talk to you about those murders, the ones with the teeth."

"What about them?"

"I was the one doing the measuring. Those reports list the small ones. Some of the long tooth marks were twelve inches in length. Nothing not extinct has teeth that big, nothing. I checked."

"So?"

"So, what is it? If vampires exist, what else is out there? I'm lying in my bed last night thinking and I started shivering from head to toe as the possibilities streamed through my head." He got in Angel's face. "Tell me. Do you know what it is? Can you stop it?"

"You seem to have a lot of faith in me."

"I'm sorry, am I wrong? Excuse me for thinking so, but I didn't assume it was common for a vampire to become a cop. There is something different about you. There must be. So?"

"I know what it is. I don't know if I can kill it."

"Can I help?"

"No." Angel grabbed hold of his shoulders and squared them. "No, you are not to get involved in this. You could be hurt."

"People are getting hurt right now. People are getting killed. If I can help I should, will, need to."

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

Xander smiled shyly, looking up at Angel through his long black lashes. "I've been told that." He paused for effect. "But if I quit every time someone told me to...."

"I take it that's a lot."

"You have no idea." He grinned. "So, what can I do to help? Anything you need? Access to the bodies? More information? What? Just tell me."

"You can't help." Angel shook him slightly, enunciating each word clearly. "Do you hear me? No helping." Xander sighed and nodded. "That's good," Angel told him. "Who taught you to be so reckless?"

"I did." They stared at one another for a moment. "Look, I gotta go. It was a mistake to come here. I won't bother you again."

"No, wait -" Angel called, but Xander was already out the door.

He rushing to get out of the squad room, dodging desks from memory, which is how he ran head-long into Lindsey. The Detective grabbed his shoulders to steady him before they both went down.

"Xander? You all right? Where you going so fast?"

"N-n-nothing."

"What?"

"I've got to go." He tried to pull away, but Lindsey held him fast. Just then he felt two big hands grab him from the other side.

"Xander?"

"I've got him, Dominguez," Lindsey all but growled.

"It's just a misunderstanding," Angel told him, turning me around. "Xander, I appreciate you coming down here."

"Uh, yeah, whatever."

Angel glared at the Detective looming over them. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all. Please continue."

Xander half turned and put his hand on Lindsey's arm to calm him. "It's okay. I'm a big boy. I can handle this. If I need you to shoot him I'll call."

Lindsey didn't look happy about it, but he went away.

"You two look close," the vampire told him carefully.

"Lindsey is nice."

"Boyfriend?" Angel hissed, his eyes glowing.

"What the fuck?!?"

Angel's grin was downright vicious. "Well, are you Detective McDonald's fuck toy?"

Xander spun on his heel and marched out of the station. By the time he got to his car he was actually starting to process past slow burn. Fuck toy. Fuck toy. Vampire asshole! He slammed his fist into the car door.

"Hey." Angel caught up with him and spun him around, holding onto his now very sore hand. "Don't hurt yourself."

"Fuck you!"

"Look, I don't know what you and Lindsey have got going on, but - "

"Nothing! We have *nothing* going on!" He jerked himself out of Angel's grasp. "And do you mind not announcing I'm gay to a station full of police? Huh? So I slipped up in front of you. My bad. Do you have to punish me?" Angel appeared at a loss for words. "I'm sorry I disgust you, but I hope you can keep this to yourself."

"It's not..."

"Not what?" Xander asked.

"Nothing."

Xander leaned back against his car, breathing hard. "Look, you were right when you said forget. Let's leave it at that." The vampire's face was hard, expressionless. If he heard or understood he made no sign. Xander climbed into his car, revved it up, and put it in gear. For once it started on the first try, whether out of some sort of supernatural sympathy or simply the fact that Xander turned the ignition as hard as he could.

Things were slow when he got back. Wes was reading a Stephen King novel.

"How did it go?" the other man asked, looking up.

"Sucked. We got anything I can hack into?"

Wesley glanced over the rims of his glasses at the man in the doorway. Xander's chest was heaving, his hair in disarray and his eyes shining. "Sorry."

"Damn. I'm really in the mood to poke some innards, you know."

Wesley smiled, as only one M.E. could smile to another. "I know. Hopefully something will come in soon." He picked up another King novel. "Pull up a chair."

"This is grim of us, you know."

"We're forensic pathologists. Grim is part of the job."

*****

As the last notes of "Summer in Siam" flitted away into the night air, Spike's sultry tones replaced them. "The Pogues, the Pogues are too good for him, but I could never stomach any of those fairy-lisper boy bands my Sire always liked, so on we go, on we go, round and round. You listening, you poof? We all hate you. You should decapitate yourself and put us all out of our bloody misery. But you won't, will you? More's the pity. I'd help if I thought it would do any good. Sod off world and hand us a beer. I'm going to play Whiskey in the Jar again."

*****

Detective Faith Wilkins was carefully cleaning her gun. Two cups of black coffee sat on the table. Across from her was a rather innocent looking man, if a little large and a bit hairy about the ears.

"He's onto you," she was saying. "He came down to the station tonight and I don't think he had chatting up the boys on his mind. Or at least that wasn't all that was on his mind." She smiled at her little joke. "He knows too much. They all know too much from the top down." So saying, she reassembled her 9mm and drove home the clip. "You get me?" The large man nodded. "Good. Now you be a good, bad, whatever," she gestured expansively, "and go play nice with Dr. Harris."

She watched, obviously entertained, as the big man finished his coffee in one gulp, rose, and ambled out the door.

"Yeah," she stared down the sight on her gun, "you two have lots of fun."

******

"Where you going?"

"Nowhere." Summers played with her keys.

"Can I come with you?" Angel all but growled.

"Actually, it's nothing. It's, uh, personal. I'm just gonna - "

"Look, I know you don't like me. I don't know why, and frankly I don't care, but you're keeping me from doing my job. You know you're going out there to investigate the case. I know you're going out there to investigate the case. Why won't at least let me, as your *partner*, come with you?"

Summers narrowed her eyes. "It's personal and when I say it's personal I mean it's personal, so back off."

"Okay then, while you go attend to some *personal* business I'm going back to the last crime scene, reinterview some witnesses."

"But -"

"You can join me when you're done." Shrugging on his black trench coat, Angel stalked out of the station house, his coat billowing behind him. Summers ran to catch up with him.

"I'll go do it later."

"Fine."

She jingled her keys. "I'm driving." He nodded, acceding that, if only that. She stomped over to her Nissan and shoved her key into the lock. "Let's get one thing straight, I'm the primary on this case."

They both leaned on the roof of the little, white car. "Let's get one other thing straight, I want this case solved. I'll do what it takes to do that."

"Just so we're clear."

"Just so we're clear."

******

Dr. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce let himself and his somewhat tipsy date into his apartment. "Inside, inside before you get cold."

"That was so lovely tonight." Cordelia flopped on the couch, her little black dress slithering up her thighs. "I just so adore you when we go someplace expensive."

"I adore you, my dear. Tea?"

"You," she whispered, pulling him down for a long kiss. "You know I really like you, right? It's not just the money and you being a doctor and all that."

"Careful, my dear, or you'll give me an ego." His long fingers wrapped around the tops of her thighs, pushing her dress even higher.

"You've already got one of those. I'll just make it more fun."

"You make everything more fun." He leaned in for another wine flavored kiss. "I think your honor is in peril tonight, my dearest."

"Oh, good. Honor is sooo last week." She dragged him closer, laying back on the couch. As they kissed hungrily a shadow fell across them. Wesley looked up to see what it was and screamed. They both screamed. Long teeth faced them, rows and rows of them, razor sharp. Wesley shoved Cordelia behind him. Hot breath steamed their faces, the stink of dead flesh reeking from within the maw. And that was all they could see, this gaping maw, at least three feet wide, and full of huge, yellow teeth.

Lunging forward, it bit through Wesley's side, rending flesh from bone. Cordelia screamed and kicked. Wesley passed out. The phone suddenly rang. In desperation, Cordelia knocked it off the hook, hoping that whoever it was could help.

"Back off!" she screamed at the maw, covering Wesley's side with her body. "Just back off! I know judo!"

"Hello? Hello?" the tinny voice called from the phone. "Cordelia?"

"Call the cops! Call an ambulance!" she yelled. "And just back off you!" she yelled at the monster again, kicking at it. Grabbing up the vase off the side table, she threw it into the maw. It shattered and the glass shards ground into the gums. The creature howled and backed up. Cordelia grabbed the glass vase off the opposite table. "I said to back off!"

The teeth retreated, closing into an impossibly small mouth, slightly slack-jawed. It turned and ran out through the open door.

After a deep, sobbing breath, Cordelia pushed herself up and over Wes' body. Whoever had been on the phone, he or she had hung up. The dial tone blared in her ear. Desperately she stabbed 9-1-1.

Xander jogged into the emergency room, looking for Cordelia. He found her in the waiting room, covered in blood and sobbing. "Cordy!"

"Xander, oh Xander!" she wrapped herself around him. "Th-they've got h-him in surgery. It d-doesn't l-look good."

"Shhh, it'll be all right. Everything will be all right." He stroked her back soothingly. "I was the one on the phone. I called the ambulance and the cops just like you told me to."

"Thank you. Thank you soooo much."

"What happened?"

"Oh, it was awful!" She fell onto him, sobbing again. Over her shoulder he saw the last person he wanted to see stalk through the emergency room doors. Angel was a billowing god of long, black leather. Beside him Detective Summers was walking as fast as she could to keep up.

"The detectives are here," was all he told Cordelia. She pulled away and wiped her eyes, sitting up straight. As calmly as she could, she stood to meet Dominguez and Summers.

"Detectives."

"Good evening, ma'am." Summers pulled her off to the side.

Xander turned away, hoping that Angel would follow his partner. No such luck. "What do you have to do with this?" he heard from behind him.

"He's my friend."

Angel sat down beside him. "So, how did you find out about it so fast?"

"I was...I called during the attack. I heard it. Cordelia yelled into the phone for me to call the police, and I did. I didn't hear anything useful though."

"What did you hear?"

"Cordelia screaming. That's all." Xander frowned. "I couldn't even hear anyone else in the room." He lowered his voice. "You told me you know what this thing is. You have to stop it. You have to."

"It's not that easy, Xander."

"My friend is dying. You told me not to get involved, but now I am whether you like it or not." He took a deep breath, running his fingers over Angel's leather coat. Slowly his chocolate brown gaze rose to meet the vampire's eyes. "Please..."

"Yes..." They leaned toward one another, hot breath whispering over soft lips. Angel suddenly pulled back. "We shouldn't."

"Of course not." Xander flushed with embarrassment. "I have to go." Shooting to his feet, he all but ran for the bathroom. Inside he splashed his face with water and then stared at himself hard in the mirror. "What do you think you're doing, Harris?" he whispered to his reflection. Unfortunately his mirror self had no reply.

Behind him, a non-descript looking man came out of one of the stalls. Flushing again, Xander made to wash his hands and move out of the way. The man opened his mouth. Xander spun around with a gasp. Rows and rows of sharp, yellow teeth appeared. It consumed his entire vision, impossibly wide and deep, coming toward him. Xander screamed.

Outside, Angel and his partner heard Xander's cry. They both took off, pounding down the hallway, their feet like thunder on the tile floor, and threw open the door.

Xander was crouched on the sink, kicking at the gaping maw in front of him. Angel grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the door. At the same time he drew a well sharpened saber from beneath his trench coat. Summers pulled out one of her own. For a moment they regarded one another, then the monster took back their attention. Xander crouched behind them by the door. Together, the two warriors attacked the beast, both stabbing for the deep throat. Although deadly, the monster wasn't very maneuverable, and they both easily got in close enough to stab deep. It howled horribly. Black ichor spewed out of the mouth. It chomped down, narrowly missing taking off Angel's hand. It looked so normal with it's mouth closed, backing up, looking for a way out of the bathroom, black blood dripping from its impossibly small mouth. Summers pulled out a second blade from beneath her cloak, this one more of a long knife with a curve to it, and with a mighty swing, she decapitated it.

"Whoa." Xander wiped the spattered ichor from his face. "Who are you?"

"Yeah, who are you?" Angel asked, turning to his partner.

"Uh..." She backed up, smiling shyly. "Concerned citizen?"

"Try again." Angel picked Xander up, effectively blocking the door at the same time.

"Then who are you?"

"I asked you first."

She took a big breath. "I'm the slayer." Angel stumbled back against the wall.

"Slayer? What's that?" Xander pulled on Angel's arm. "Who is that? Tell me what's going on."

"Chosen one. She who hangs out in cemeteries? Vampire slayer. And you, tall, dark and brooding?" She put her knife to Angel's throat. "Who are you?"

"My name is Angel. I...I fight the darkness for the powers that be."

"And what makes you so special?"

He shook his head. "We need to get this body out of here before someone comes in."

"We're homicide cops." She wiped her sword and put it away. "Xander found it here and brought us in to look at it. Ooo, look, dead body. Dr. Harris, what's your expert opinion on how this man died?"

"Uh..." He looked from one of them to another. His eyes were dazed, but he tried valiantly to keep up with the conversation. "Decapitation?"

Angel nodded. "Looks like it to me, Doc. Let's get a bag in here and get the body down to the morgue." He turned Xander away, who was looking a bit green about the gills. "Better do this autopsy yourself," he whispered.

"You need an autopsy?" he all but squeaked.

"Someone needs to sign off on it." Angel took hold of his shoulders. "If someone else does it there will be too many questions. You understand?"

Xander squared himself. "Key guy. Got it. Let's get a bag in here and take him down. I'll handle it."

"I'll go with you."

Xander started to tell him it wasn't necessary, but then changed his mind. He was queasy enough as it was without being alone with the body. "Thanks."

The vampire nodded. Summers went to get the body bag.

"So, are you going to tell me what that thing is now? And what's a Slayer?"

"It's better if you don't know, if you're not involved."

Xander leaned back against the wall. "Too late. I am involved. You might as well tell me before what little I know gets me killed. So, what, a slayer slays these things?"

"Sort of, yes. She's a vampire slayer. There's one in every generation, a chosen one of sorts. It's a bit complicated."

"And him?" Xander gestured to the body, his hand shaking a little.

"A demon."

"You aren't kidding, are you?"

Angel shook his head. His hands massaged Xander's shoulders, holding the young man up against the wall.

"So, if she's a vampire slayer and you're a vampire isn't that a bad thing?"

"Not so loud." Angel gave him a little half grin. "Look, I won't deceive you. Most vampires are evil. I...regret. I'm unique in that. The greatest dream of my life is to be human again, but I can never have that, so instead I fight the darkness, search for some sort of atonement." Again he leaned dangerously close, their lips seemingly pulled together like magnets. The sound of door opening made them both jump apart.

Summers carried in the body bag. "C'mon, boys. We've got about twenty minutes before somebody asks us what the Hell we're doing."

"Let me go snatch some paper work. Then they won't care," Xander volunteered. Anxious to be out of that room, he made his escape. Unaware of the black blood still smeared all over him, he approached the desk. "Hi."

"Sir, are you hurt?" the desk attendant asked, her eyes huge and round.

"What? No. I...I'm a medical examiner and I rode in with somebody who didn't make it on the way here. Have you got a death certificate and all that?" Xander pulled out his ID for the woman, smiling encouragingly. "I think we'd all just like to get him to the city morgue as quickly as possible."

"Oh, yes, of course." She ruffled through several large filing cabinets until she came up with the necessary documents. "Here you go."

"Thanks. You're a gem. I'll fax a copy of these back over when I'm done with the autopsy." Saluting her pale face with the paperwork, Xander wandered back down the hall, his feet trying to carry him away from that awful room, but his mind knowing that was where he had to go back to. Outside the bathroom Angel and Summers had already loaded the filled body bag onto a gurney and now Summers was missing.

"Where is she?" Xander asked.

"Cleaning up the scene. We decided that nobody had to find that."

"Good thought."

"You ready?"

"Are you sure this body will incinerate?"

Angel smiled, pushing the gurney out of the hospital, diverting into a back alley where a big, green Cadillac convertible was parked. "Actually a good question. This type of demon will. We should be able to take care of this in no time." Angel and Xander loaded the body into the trunk.

"Good. You know, there's part of me that really wishes I had the guts to take a look inside. I wonder what I would find."

"Probably a stone best left unturned."

"All mythology, all religion, is subject to scientific fact, even magic. Somehow it works, even if we don't understand it. All we have to do is learn more to understand it. Like," Xander slid into the passenger side and belted himself in, "I bet you could be human again. There must be a way. If one can change from human to vampire there must be a way to go from vampire to human, I think. One just has to find it."

"Another stone best left unturned," Angel told him, pulling out of the alley.

"Why? You sound like you've given up hope."

"Just accepted my penance."

"And when this penance of yours is over?"

"It will never be over." They stopped at a light and Angel turned to him. "I have killed more people than you can possibly imagine."

"And then what? One day you just saw the light?"

"Sort of." The light turned green again and Angel turned his attention back to the road. "I don't think it happened quite that fast."

"But one day you just went vegetarian."

"As it were."

Xander sat back to think. The muggy LA air assaulted him, making him feel sticky and tired. What he wanted most was to go home, shower and then crawl into bed. Maybe with Angel. Mmm, that sounded nice. "So is this car a part of the penance too?" he finally asked.

"Are you making fun of my vehicle?"

"It's an old, green, clunker. I needed to make fun of it to make the situation worse?"

"Ha, ha. The 1976 Cadillac has the largest trunk space of any car ever made."

"So?"

"For a vampire, that can be quite useful. Think about it."

Xander's eyes widened. "You don't sleep in your car, do you?"

"I sorta have been lately, but I'm moving into my new place tonight at the end of my shift. I don't even have a lamp, but at least I have a place."

"I have a lamp for you."

"Xander - "

"Quit it. If you can't be humble enough to sack out on my couch instead of the trunk of your car, at least you could take my lamp. I never use it anyway. It's something my dad got me. Let me just deal with the body and then we'll get you some stuff to set you up, kay?"

"I have some things coming in a few days."

"Lamps among them?"

"A couple."

"Then you can give my lamp to someone else."

"Or back to you."

"Once given away, it cannot go back. Those are the rules. No throwing it away and no touch backs." Xander grinned.

"Why am I suddenly scared?"

"You should be."

Once they got there Xander logged the body in, did the initial weigh in, logged the time and cause of death and then helped Angel load it in the incinerator, only taking it out of the body bag for the final step. The bag they washed out, cut up, and then trashed.

By the time Angel drove Xander home it was getting toward 4am. And who should be standing on his doorstep? Detective Lindsey McDonald.

"Xander!"

"Lindsey?"

"I heard... There's..." He took a deep breath and started again. "A fugitive is loose. He attacked one of your co-workers."

"I know. I was down at the hospital."

"What are you doing here, Dominguez?" Lindsey asked.

Xander stepped forward and shoved Lindsey to the side a little so he could unlock the door. Just a week ago this would have thrown him into an absolute tizzy, he thought to himself. Now he didn't even care.

"Summers and I went down to the hospital to see Pryce. Xander was there. He witnessed the attack. I'm just driving him home. What are *you* doing here, McDonald?"

"Looking out for a friend."

"Do us all a favor and - "

"Thank you, Lindsey," Xander cut in. "Won't you both come in?" He led the way, not turning to see if either man would follow. Wasn't this his fantasy only a few nights ago? Now so much had happened, Xander couldn't even shake up much feeling about it. The night had left him pretty much numb. "Coffee anyone?" He turned and both men shook their heads. "I'll get that lamp then. Make yourselves comfortable."

He found a box in the closet and piled the lamp, a blanket, pillow, and three Clive Barker novels into it. Yup, he and Wesley really had grim taste in books. They both thought it was funny, given their profession. Xander wondered if it would still be funny when Wesley got better, if he got better. Buck up, Harris, don't think like that, he told himself.

"I got the stuff," he called out, carrying it out to the living room. Lindsey and Angel were sitting as far away from one another on the couch as they could get. Xander had this perverse desire to climb in between them and see if they could make some porn come to life, but he shook it off. Now was certainly not the time, even if there was ever going to be one.

Angel stood and took the box. "I don't - "

"Just take it. Don't sleep on the cold hard floor because you can't take charity."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Angel pulled out the lamp. "Uh, Xander?"

"Finders keepers."

"But - "

"Too bad, so sad. All yours now."

"I don't - "

Xander gave him a hard look.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks."

Lindsey snickered. The base of the lamp was a duck, his paint somewhat faded. The bulb screwed into a rod that shot up out of the center of his back. At some point the bill had been repainted with a pink highlighter. Across the tail was a sticker that read, "We Do It With Stiffs." On the left wing was a beheaded Rainbrow Brite. "Can I ask where you got that?"

"Dad thought I needed a going away present for college. He likes for me to have manly stuff. He kinda became a mascot. He got passed around and around until he finally came back to me. Now he's yours." He shoved the lamp at Angel. "No touchbacks."

"I have seen the face of true evil."

"Muwahahahaha and all that."

Lindsey collapsed in a fit of giggles on the couch.

"Now, both of you, out of here. I have to call Cordelia to make sure she got home all right and then get some sleep." Xander walked them both to the door.

"If there's anything I can do," they both started, and then glared at one another.

Xander sighed. "First one here tomorrow evening gets to drive me to the hospital to pick up my car. Now, out!" He shoved them both out the door and locked it behind them. Stretching, he dialed the phone on his way to start a shower. By the time he had hot water, he also had Cordelia on the phone.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "Detective Summers said you had to go down to the morgue, something about a case."

"It couldn't wait. I'm sorry. Do you want me to come back over?"

"No. He's out of surgery. I should be able to see him in a little bit. He's in the ICU, but they tell me he's stable. I'll call you if anything changes."

"Thanks. And let me know if you need anything."

"Geeze, settle down need-boy. Haven't I told you that?"

"Yeah, yeah you have."

"Go to bed. You sound like you can use the sleep." She hung up the phone. Sighing, Xander hung up on his end and then stepped into the shower. It felt wonderful. Black, bloody ichor had seeped into the most unimaginable places like some sort of bad X-Files episode, and it felt so good to scrub it off. Blood and sweat and dirt all washed down the drain. Ahh, soapy goodness. He rinsed off and stepped out. Everything smelled better after a shower, the flowery soap smell lingering in the after-mist. Time for some serious sleep, dreaming about a Xander sandwich with Lindsey and Angel for bread. He licked his lips and crawled into bed. He was snoring softly before his head even hit the pillow.

******

"What do you want?" Faith asked, opening the door.

"Is that any way to greet your partner?"

She frowned and left the door open, leading Lindsey deeper into the apartment. He shut the door behind them. "Sit."

"Yes, ma'am." He flopped on the couch, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair.

"You always did have the best manners." She straddled his lap and leaned in for a long, spit-swapping kiss. "Where have you been all night?"

"Trying to track down our demon friend."

"Really?"

"I think he may have targeted someone we don't want him to target."

"Who?"

"Dr. Harris."

"YOU don't want him to target," she purred. "Why is that? Taking a little boy-toy behind my back?"

"Would that turn you on?" He leaned back on his elbows, rubbing himself up against her.

"It might. Hmmm..." She threw her head back, her eyes closed and imagined it. "Yeah, that would really turn me on. Too bad he has to die."

Lindsey's fingers curled around her throat and squeezed. "You did it, didn't you? You sicked that thing on him. Why?"

"Of course I did, because he knew too much, he and Pryce both. They won't be a problem much longer."

"Call him off."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. I'll handle this."

Faith grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from her throat. "Ahh, no. No falling down on the job, baby, not even for a hot piece of ass." She leaned forward, shoving her cleavage into his face. "The boss likes it done this way. You know he does. Clean and easy and dead. If Harris survives on his own, fine, but I somehow doubt it. You gonna disappoint the boss?" she asked, stroking his face.

"I hate you."

"Makes you fuck me harder."

"You're so twisted." He kissed her again. "I know you're right. It's just...I rather liked that boy."

"I'll make you forget all about him, lover." Faith popped the button on his pants.

*****

Spike stretched out on the window sill. "Nice lamp."

"I was wondering when you would show up." Angel padded slowly out of his kitchen, his bare feet soundless on the wooden floor. The huge, warehouse like room gave the two vampires plenty of space.

"That's a sad thing to say. After all, I hate you more than life, or un-life, itself." The blonde smiled. "And I'm the only friend you've got, hmmm?"

"I never said that."

"You meet the luscious little bit you had riding around with you earlier?"

"Among many others. I've had a long life, Spike."

"And you've betrayed all those you've known, do-gooder. What a thing to say. Why don't I write it on your tombstone for you, hmmm?"

Angel leaned against a column halfway into the room. "We going to fight or are you going to just be snarky all night?"

"This is amusing me for the moment. I'll let you know if that changes." He evaluated Angel for a moment. "You liked him. I could smell that. And he likes you. I could really smell that. Too bad you can't do anything about it, isn't it? Wouldn't want to go all vampy and hurt the boy."

"You leave him alone, Spike."

"For now." He looked Angel up and down. "Not that I get what he sees. Where in the nine Hells did you get that fashion sense? You used to dress much better."

"We can't all be you."

"Damn right." Spike stood up on the window sill. "I'll stay away from the boy for now, but only because it amuses me to watch you agnst over something you can't have." And then he flew off.

Angel collapsed against the column with a sigh. It was time for some serious sleep. A talk with his wayward childe was not the thing he needed tonight. Time to feed and then to bed. Angel picked up the remote off the sill hit the button, closing the metal shades.