Repercussions

Chapter One

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: After the events of the Boxer Rebellion, Angel realizes that, while Darla may want nothing to do with him anymore, Dru and Spike will still obey him, even if reluctantly in the case of the latter. He drags them down the road to redemption, eventually ending up as demon hunters in L.A. with several visits throughout the years to the Sunnydale Hellmouth where Spike and the current slayer form an odd friendship. When the Initiative kills Dru and captures Spike, Buffy and Angel have to rescue a chipped and catatonic Spike and bring him back to himself.

Author's Note: While this will eventually be Spuffy, there will also be a lot of Spike and Dru in the beginning, plus some one-sided Angel/Spike all throughout that will remain one-sided. Some of the dialogue and scenes in this chapter are from the episode "Welcome to the Hellmouth." Allusions to past rape, but no details, graphic or otherwise.

…

He could feel it somewhere inside of him. The call of his sire and the Master, trying to summon him to the Hellmouth. Part of him just wanted to ignore it. To wallow in his misery and guilt and just let the Master's Harvest happen. Dru and the minions wouldn't care. Spike, however…. Angel sighed and rubbed his eyes.

He knew the younger vampire didn't give a shit about good or evil in the grand scheme of things as long as he could take care of Dru and get into fights, but listlessness irritated him. Anytime he got like this, Spike would bitch about it, insisting that anything worth doing had to be done with everything you had, that you had to fling yourself into it or you might as well not do it at all. When Angel had made the decision to try to make Dru and Spike be good, he'd never dreamed that Spike would end up being the one dragging him kicking and screaming to his own redemption.

The door was suddenly kicked open, and Spike, as if summoned by Angel's thoughts, stomped into the three-bedroom apartment, both hands full of plastic grocery bags. "Gather 'round, kiddies," he called out, "din-din's here."

The young woman curled up at the other end of the couch Angel was sitting on and the girl across from him in the recliner both got up and headed for the kitchen. Yet another young woman and a small, nervous-looking young man came out of one of the bedrooms. They had more minions – all found and recruited as fledglings rather than made – but only these four were currently staying with them. They were trusted enough to be let out of the nest but weren't ready to be out on their own just yet.

"Had to dust one of the nestlings," Spike said as he put the bags on the kitchen table and started handing out containers of pig's blood. Angel didn't bother going for his share. He'd finished off the old stuff earlier. "He was whinging on about not getting to eat humans."

"You know, you probably wouldn't have as much trouble with that if you didn't still eat humans," one of the girls pointed out. She was small – barely fifteen when she was turned almost a year ago – with glossy chestnut hair and big brown eyes.

Angel thought her name might have been Gwen, but he wasn't sure, he didn't really pay a lot of attention to the minions. They had been Spike's idea, and he was the one who handled them. He left weird little pamphlets titled "Killing Demons for Fun and Profit, but not Humans Because the Souled-Up Wanker Gets Moody about It" at the cemeteries and interviewed the vampires who showed up in response.

His excuse was that Angel had to think big picture if he was serious about this whole redemption thing, but the older vampire privately thought it was because Spike was a little bit of a mother hen and didn't have enough chicks with just him and Dru. Of course, Spike's version of being a mother hen came with a heavy dose of boot to the head if you annoyed him too much.

"I get to eat humans because I have enough self-control to catch and release. Now, quit sassing me and drink your swine, missy. You're too skinny."

Maybe-Gwen snorted and turned towards the microwave. "Whatever… mama bear." The last was muttered under her breath.

"Oi! I heard that!" Spike grumped, giving her a light whack upside the head.

That particular nickname had been in use since the days when Julie Owens had lived in the apartment. A vampire older and much bigger than Spike had tried to force her to work at his suck house. The bleach blond had managed to take him out through sheer reckless fury over the fact that someone had tried to take one of his "cubs" against her will. Julie did a lot of the day-to-day running of the nest and liked to tell that story.

Angel shook his head and tuned out the familiar sounds of the minions squabbling over the microwave, his thoughts turning back to the Master and Darla. He'd heard from Crowley only the day before that the slayer's mother had been manipulated into moving to Sunnydale. He'd always meant to meet the girl while she was still here in L.A., but just hadn't gotten around to it.

He was actually relieved that the meet and greet hadn't happened. The last time they'd had much to do with a slayer, they'd ended up in New York for eleven years with Spike as her patrolling partner and the on-call babysitter for her son. Angel was still terrified at how close to death the younger vampire had come in that final battle by Nikki's side.

Almost as terrifying was the thought of what the Council of Watchers might do if they ever discovered it was working with a vampire that had led to a slayer making it all the way to thirty-three. He wasn't entirely sure what that would be, or even if they'd do anything at all, but he wouldn't be at all surprised if they tried to capture and brainwash Spike into being a good little pet vampire to help their slayers.

I'll just leave Spike and Dru here tomorrow night while I pop over to Sunnydale and find the slayer. I'll give her some cryptic advice to help her, and she can deal with it all. It is her job, aft-

His thoughts were cut off by something bouncing off the side of his head and landing with a thud beside him on the couch. He was just barely able to catch the second boot before it could smack into his head as well. He scowled at Spike, getting a smug smirk in return. A quick glance around showed that the others had gone to their rooms, probably bedding down since it was only an hour or so until dawn.

"Sorry, mate, looked like you were about to turn to stone with all that brooding," Spike said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. He hung up the coat Robin had given him as a keepsake at Nikki's funeral nine years ago and glanced down the short hallway towards the master bedroom. "Dru been holed up in there all night?" he asked with a slight frown.

"She said she had to pack for a tea party with your sunshine's green fairy, whatever that means." After more than a century, he should have been an expert on Drusilla's ramblings, but she just never really made any sense to him.

Spike snorted in amusement and flopped down on the couch next to him after moving his boot to the floor. Angel dropped the one he was still holding to join its sibling.

"That one's fairly easy to figure out, even for someone with as thick a Neanderthal brow as you've got, gramps. I've a Cat, a Blinky, a Twinkle, and a Twitchy, and that's just the lot that lives here right now. Apparently, I'm gonna end up with a Sunshine when we go to take care of ol' Batface and the great grand hag. And Sunshine will have some little kiddie hanging about that Dru thinks is a green fairy."

Angel abruptly stood up and started pacing. "No, no, no. There will be no 'taking care of' the Master and Darla. I'm just going to- "

"Please tell me you aren't planning to just pop in, give the slayer a cryptic message, and then pop right back out," Spike said. At Angel's defensive look, he sighed heavily and rolled his eyes hard enough that the older vampire was actually worried for a second that they might fall out and go bouncing across the floor. "I swear, if I wasn't here to look after you, you'd be a smelly, rat-eating hobo by now."

"Better than being a hobo-eating rat," Angel muttered, hoping to get Spike ticked off enough to yell at him to go off and do his own thing and not come crying to him if it went wrong. Of course, the more likely outcome was- The steel toe of a boot bounced off his forehead hard enough to break the skin.

"Not a rat, and I haven't snacked on a hobo since '73. Bloke had more drugs in 'im than all five of the flower people from Woodstock put together. That was way too trippy, even for me."

"You know, violence isn't the answer to everything," Angel grumbled, glaring at him as he rubbed the already mostly healed wound. He really wished Spike's boot to the head method of tough love wasn't quite so literal at times.

"No, but it's a hell of a lot of fun," the other vampire said cheerfully. "Very cathartic. Now then, here's a better idea. You call up Crowley and have him get in touch with the girl's watcher to set up your bona fides. Then we pack up Dru and the kiddies tomorrow night and head for Sunnydale to help."

"No!" Angel snarled, starting to pace again. He couldn't stop Spike from going after demons – he was pretty sure the blond would rather be dusted than give up fighting – but he could damn well do his best to keep him away from slayers. It was only because of Dru's visions and blood that Spike had recovered from that last fight by Nikki's side. "No more slayers. They come with a short shelf life, and playing with them is just going to get you killed."

Spike growled and jumped up to his feet, one hand violently running through his hair in anger. Corkscrew curls sprang out every which way, defiantly celebrating their sudden freedom from the tyranny of hair gel.

"I'm not livin' in a sodding bubble just because you need someone to manage your life and be your bloody teddy bear when the nightmares get to you. You can stay here and whinge and mope if you want, but the rest of us are going. If I get dusted… well," he flashed an evil little smirk, "you and the bright shiny soul will just have to sit there and wonder if you could have stopped it."

"Spike…" Angel began, trying desperately to think of some way to put a stop to things. Panic at the thought of losing the one person who knew how to make the horrible guilt weigh on him less threatened to overwhelm him.

The smaller vampire just held up a hand and shook his head. "You said it yourself, Dru's already packin'. Me an' her are going. The only mind you can change now is your own. I'm gonna get Dru fed. I'd 'preciate it if you'd call Crowley and at least get him to talk to the other watcher about me and Dru. Don't particularly wanna get staked by the little chit while I'm trying to help her."

Without another word, he heated up a mug of blood before stalking off to the master bedroom.

Angel sighed in defeat and went to the telephone, punching in Crowley's number from memory. If the little idiot was going to go no matter what, he didn't really have much choice about going along. Even as he talked to the man and got everything situated, half of his attention was on the largest of the rooms down the hall.

He couldn't make out the words, but he could hear the gentle, sweet tone Spike's voice took on whenever he spoke to his princess, followed by a whine from Dru, probably about how much she hated the animal blood. Then more soft words, followed by a silence and Dru's playful growls. He almost broke the phone as he hung up, his hands clenching with what he knew was unreasonable jealousy as the mingled scents of pain and arousal reached him.

He drifted down the hall and gently rested his head against the door, his hand sliding down into his pants as he listened in. Soft little moans and cries of pained enjoyment, Dru's muffled shrieks of pleasure. The ambrosial scent of Spike's blood, no doubt spilled as a treat to wash the taste of pig out of the mad seer's mouth.

He closed his eyes and visualized them as he touched himself. They were probably naked in the bed together by this point, Spike pinned beneath his dark goddess as her nails sliced through his flesh. Sometimes they switched things up, but usually she was the dominant one during sex, unleashing her sadistic streak on a willing partner.

"That's it, kitten, take whatever you need, all for you, baby," soft, breathy words gasped out in complete love and adoration. "Only for you."

Angel bit his lip and stroked himself harder, hating Dru just a little at that moment and hating himself for feeling that way. After all he'd done to her, he had no right to begrudge the fact that she had someone who loved her. He gasped and shuddered as Spike continued murmuring to her, finally reaching his climax only moments before Drusilla's squeal of completion.

He pushed away from the door and made his way back to the living room, disgusted with himself – as he always was – for his voyeurism. There were more sounds and scents coming from that room, but he forced himself to ignore it this time. He paced restlessly for a few moments before grabbing a book and flinging himself on the couch.

He could go in there at any time, it was his room, too, after all. Hell, he could have gone in earlier and watched them, and neither would have cared as long as he didn't try to participate. Actually, Dru would have welcomed that last idea, but Spike would have been pissed.

It was three hours before he went back to the master bedroom, this time going inside and changing into a pair of sweatpants. He stared for a few seconds at the sleeping figures on the bed, naked and curled together in a tangle of pale limbs, Drusilla a picture of flawless beauty and Spike covered in half-healed cuts, bruises, and bites. He quietly slipped in beside them, curling his body around Spike's and drifting off to sleep.

…

…

He was stalking her through the streets, letting her hear a single footstep every so often. By now, she'd be wondering if she was crazy or if someone really was after her. Just as she was about to reach a more populate area, he rushed forward, snatching the hope of safety away and locking her in terror. His fangs descended, ready to pierce her throat…

…and then there was a sharp pain in his scalp as his hair was grabbed and used to wrench his head to the side. It was his own neck that was pierced, fangs tearing savagely, ripping his flesh and letting his blood spill out. He welcomed the pain. It was what he deserved, but before it could do more than start to make him feel better about himself, it was gone, the fangs replaced by a soft tongue lapping away the blood as the wounds closed.

"Shh. S'okay now. You've been punished," gentle words whispered in his ear as Angel fully awakened to the familiar weight of the body holding him down. At some point, he'd rolled away from his personal security blanket, letting the nightmares in.

Fingers ghosted through his hair, petting and comforting. The affectionate nip at his earlobe with human teeth and the slight, enticing wiggle of the slender hips pressing down on his own were just as much of a punishment as the bite had been. They were meant to be.

Angel swallowed hard, fighting the urge to flip them over and just take what he wanted. He'd done it hundreds of times in the nearly twenty years he'd spent soulless in the other vampire's company and twice after the soul, when he'd been trying to be evil enough for Darla to take him back.

There was a soft rustle of movement to the side, followed by a murmur of Spike's name.

"Right here, pet," he said quietly, rolling away from Angel to snuggle with Dru. "Always here for you, princess."

Dru lifted her head to peer over his shoulder at her sire. "Hush now, Daddy, no more nasty dreams. Miss Edith will be cross with us all if she's too tired to have tea with my William's green fairy."

"My green fairy, is it?" Spike asked, nibbling at her neck. "Thought she belonged to my Sunshine."

"Both are yours, but in different ways. The green fairy tisn't really real just yet, though we think she is. You'll feel it from the start, but when the paper doll becomes a real girl, you'll know."

"That so?" Spike mumbled sleepily.

"Sleep now," was Dru's response. She reached past him to tug at Angel's arm, drawing him close. "Sleep. Busy night to come. Must get a gift for Sunshine to keep the monsters at bay."

Angel sighed, letting Dru's nonsense soothe him towards sleep as he once more cuddled up against Spike.

"Don't fancy biting you again tonight, so stay put this time," the other man grumbled. "And for fuck's sake, stop chugging the swine after it's gone off. The rancid ham aftertaste you have is truly appalling."

…

…

Buffy stared into the mirror, holding a shiny black dress against herself. "Hi! I'm an enormous slut!" she said brightly before switching to a floral print dress. "Hello, would you like a copy of 'The Watchtower'?" She sighed heavily. "I used to be so good at this."

She shot a glare over her shoulder at her little sister as the girl snickered from her perch on the bed. "What are you even doing in here? Shouldn't you be doing homework or playing with dolls, or something?"

Dawn bounced across the bed and off of it before flouncing towards her sister's closet. "Already finished it, and I'm eleven now, not ten. I don't play with dolls anymore," she insisted, as she poked through the clothes.

Before Buffy could shoo the girl away, their mom came in, asking about her plans for the night. She clung desperately to the normality of it all. She was just a normal girl with a mother and a sister, doing normal things like getting ready to go to a club to meet potential friends. It was all normal. Normal.

…

…

Later that evening, Buffy was still focused on thoughts of being normal as she walked down a dark street. Those thoughts were shattered by the sudden feeling that she was being followed. She kept her pace the same, not wanting to give away the fact that she was aware of her pursuer.

She ducked down an alley as soon as she could, eyes darting as she scanned for the perfect ambush site. A grin slipped out as she glanced up. She hated the slaying part of being the slayer, but she had to admit the powers themselves were pretty nifty. She ran forward, her muscles tensing as she leaped up into the air to grab the bar stretching across the alley. She propelled herself up into a perfect handstand just as a man came into the alley.

She waited, muscles straining in an oddly pleasant way as he slowly advanced, trying to figure out where she'd gone. Once he was past, she swung down, pulling the force of the blow just as her feet slammed into his back, just in case it was a human and not a vampire. He staggered forward with a cry of pain.

"Gonna cut you, bitch!" he snarled, turning around, a switch blade in his hand.

Buffy shifted into a fighting stance, but before she could let out a snappy comeback, something really weird happened. Both she and her would-be attacker stared, stupefied, as a twenty dollar bill attached to a fishing hook and line dropped down to dangle in front of the man's face. It jerked up a bit, then came back down to bounce off of his head a couple of times.

"What the…?" he grabbed it, his eyes widening in sudden panic. "I-I can't let go!"

Buffy's jaw dropped as he was yanked upwards with a terrified scream. Not my business. Just a normal girl. And it's not like I'm the weirdo fisherman slayer or anything….. And… and the guy was totally going to try to do something awful…..Phooey. With a sigh, she leaped back up onto the bar, this time using it to launch herself up onto the roof of the closest building.

A discarded fishing pole and a half-empty case of beers sat next to the slightly twitching, unconscious body of a vampire's victim. The vampire in question – dressed mostly in black with the only color being a khaki fishing hat with lures all over it and a red button-down between his long leather jacket and t-shirt – had his fangs in the guy from the alley.

She ran at him, but he dropped his prey – still alive – and whirled away at the last second. He stumbled and fell on his butt, blinking and looking a little dazed as he shook away his gameface to show attractive human features.

"Bloody hell, I think that first bloke was on something," he muttered in a sexily accented voice. He flashed her a slightly manic grin as he got to his feet. He was twitching and swaying slightly. "'Lo there, Sunshine."

"Hello, yourself, Twitchy," she said, taking a fighting stance for the second time that night.

The vampire laughed and shook his head. "No, no, Twitchy is the nervous li'l fella I recruited from the nest last week."

"Yeah, cause I really care about your personal life," Buffy said sarcastically as she launched herself at him.

He whirled out of the way again, grabbing her arm as he did so and spinning her around as if he thought it was some kind of dance. The fight continued on like that – strike, dodge, block, spinning and weaving along the rooftop – until the vampire tripped over his own feet, the fact that he was apparently at least a little bit high getting in the way of what seemed like natural grace.

The ridiculous fishing hat fell off as he sprawled on his back, revealing platinum blond hair that was mostly slicked back. A few curly tendrils had escaped to stick out in random directions. Buffy pounced on him before he could get back on his feet, belatedly realizing that she didn't have a stake.

He laughed up at her, eyes bright. "Fabulous dance, love, though neither of us is at their best, now are we? We'll have to try it again sometime." He bucked her off of him, then stood up, balancing precariously on the edge of the roof. "Before I go, a gift to you from my lady."

He reached into his coat and tossed something at her, bowing with a flourish as it sailed through the air. The movement unbalanced him, and he fell off the edge, a bellow of "bloody, buggering fuck!" following him down.

Buffy instinctively caught the object, then darted to the edge and looked down. The vampire got to his feet and staggered away, cursing the entire time. She was about to go after him, but was stopped by the moans and grumbles of the two victims. She glanced at them, then to the object in her hand. It was a silver cross necklace wrapped in a handkerchief.

Why would a vampire leave his victims alive? And why would he give her a cross, supposedly as a gift from his "lady"? She looked at the victims again, then at the necklace, and finally down to where she'd last seen the now gone bloodsucker. She had the feeling she'd just fought the world's weirdest vampire… and it had been a heck of a lot of fun.

…

…

Joyce unlocked the door and carried a bag of groceries in with her, her younger daughter not far behind her. Unfortunately, not far was just far enough. A male vampire slipped in between them, grabbing the girl.

"Dawn!" Joyce screamed in frightened rage at her little girl's shriek. She ran at him, smashing a jar of pickles against his head. "Let go of my daughter!"

The vampire dropped Dawn, snarling as he turned to face his attacker. Before he could retaliate, there was a flash of movement and a pale, delicate hand closed around his throat from behind.

"Naughty, naughty. Not for the likes of you to touch my sweet boy's fairy."

Joyce watched in shock as the end of a stick suddenly poked through the man's chest, turning him to dust and revealing a strange, dark haired woman. The woman smiled vacantly at her before turning towards Dawn, bending a little at the waist to be closer to her eye level.

"Hello there. Would you like to play with me, li'l fairy? Miss Edith is ever so excited to meet you."

"Th-thank you for your help," Joyce stuttered out, feeling numb with shock. That man just exploded into dust! "But… you, you need to leave now."

The woman turned back to her, the smile both sly and playful now. She began to sway, her arm coming up, two fingers held out towards her eyes.