Blue On Black-Chapter One

Night falls down alone.

Skin, yeah, chill me to the bone

You turned and you ran.

Oh, slipped right from my hand

Spike stood staring at the door of the Hyperion silently,

his hands fidgeting nervously until he realized what he was

doing and shoved them into the pockets of his black leather

duster, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

It would be so simple just to raise one hand and knock on

the door. Hell, he could even dispense with that and walk

straight in. The Hyperion served as the headquarters for

Angel Investigations. The door wasn't likely to be locked.

Still, Spike hesistated. If he'd had a heartbeat, he was sure

it would've been racing at the moment.

Memories flickered through his mind of the last time he'd

seen Angel. He'd paid to have him tortured for the location

of the Ring of Amara.

Spike silently cursed the panarama that his vampiric total

recall was playing out in his mind's eye. The memories were

making him nauseous. He was disgusted with himself.

Taking a shaky, albeit unneeded, breath, Spike briefly closed

his eyes, and then raised his hand to knock once, solidly, upon

the door of the Hyperion.

There was the sharp *click click click* of someone's heels coming

across the floor, and then it swung inward to reveal a young woman

with dark, shining hair and glasses perched on a pixie-like nose.

Spike frowned slightly. He'd never seen her before.

Clearing his throat nervously, the blonde vampire shifted his weight

once again, fighting the urge to fidget some more, or maybe run.

"I'm lookin' for Angel," he said, glad that his voice didn't break as

he'd feared it would.

The girl's eyes widened slightly. "Well, um, he's resting right now,"

Spike's brow furrowed. "It's ten past midnight. What kind of vampire

sleeps at night?" he questioned, his stomach lurching uncomfortably

as the words passed his lips.

Giving him a tremulous smile, the girl moved aside to let him in. "Okay,

he's not asleep...But he should be. He doesn't listen to us, even when it's

for his own good," she said.

Spike had to chuckle a little at that, even though the laughter felt bitter

and stale in his throat. "That's Angel all the way. A more hard-headed

Mick you'll never find."

The girl's mouth formed a small 'O' of surprise at the derogatory term

for the Irish and she seemed to be questioning the wisdom of letting

Spike into the hotel.

"Don't fret, luv," Spike told her, feeling guilty for flustering her. "Angel

an' I go back a long way. He's called me worse, trust me."

Seemingly satisfied by that, the girl turned her back on him. "Gunn!

Someone's here looking for Angel," she called out.

A few moments later, a young African-American man entered the

room, his gaze falling on the girl with obvious affection. "Who's lookin'

The girl gestured to Spike. "I, uh...I'm sorry...what was your name?"

Spike smiled. " M'Spike," he said. "Where is Angel, anyway? If he's

not sleepin', I'd think the noise woulda gotten him curious by now."

The man grinned before assuming a serious look. "He isn't seeing anyone

The girl looked worried. "He's not worse, is he?"

"Naw. I just slipped elephant tranq into his blood. He's sleepin' like a baby," the man said, the grin returning full-force. "Don't worry, Fred. He'll be a'ight."

Frustrated with the conversation, Spike growled softly. "Bloody hell...Will

someone tell me what's goin' on?!"

"Gunn..." Fred said, eyes widening at the sound of the growl.

The man, Gunn, stepped in front of Fred protectively and Spike threw up his hands.

"Gimme a break...if I wanted either of you dead, don't you think I'd've bloody done somethin' already?" Spike demanded, then started pacing, lighting a cigarette as he moved.

"Look, Angel's my bloody Sire in every way that matters, alright?" he told them. "Ran across a demon in Kampala, got meself a brand new shiny effin' soul, an' since the Brooding One is the only other vampire that's ever had one, I came here," Spike bit out, then spun and flopped gracefully onto the plush leather couch, taking a deep drag off of his cigarette.

and it don't mean much.

cold on ice is a dead man's touch.

Whisper on a scream

doesn't change a thing.

Don't bring you back...

Gunn and Fred exchanged a look, then relaxed slightly.

"I'm guessin' you didn't get a soul on purpose?" Gunn asked.

Spike gave him a 'do I look stupid enough to do that' look.

Fred bit her lower lip. "How long until the tranquilizer wears off?"

Gunn shrugged. "It'll keep a bull elephant out for six hours, but Angel's

mule-stubborn. I'm guessin' three, max."

Spike snorted at Gunn's assessment of Angel. He certainly had the ex-

drunken Irishman pegged.

"So, I guess I'll just have to wait for Sleepin' Ugly to wake up then,

won't I?" he commented.

He turned toward the door as he heard it open and raised an eyebrow

at the teenage boy that walked into the hotel, his face a blank mask.

His eyes, however, were anything but blank, and Spike nearly shuddered

at the look of guilt and hopelessness he saw in the dark chocolate orbs.

"Connor! Ohmygod, we've been so worried about you! Where have you

been? Are you alright? Have you seen Cordelia?" Fred blurted, machine-gun fast.

The boy, Connor, stared at her for a moment in what seemed like astonishment, then simply shook his head. "No."

Fred looked confused. "Um...to which question?"

"I haven't seen Cordelia," he responded.

Something nagged at the edge of Spike's awareness. There was a strange

familiarity about the boy, but the vampire didn't remember ever having met,

or even laid eyes on him before.

Sensing he was being studied, Connor turned that intense gaze on Spike,

his eyes turning suddenly cold as steel. "Vampire," he nearly growled, and

pulled a stake out of his waistband.

Spike felt his eyes widen a bit and put his hands in the air. " 'Ey, no need to

get stake-happy. I'm retired."

"He has a soul," Fred piped.

Apparently coming to a decision, Connor tucked the stake away and looked at Gunn. "Where's my father?"

"Upstairs, sleepin'. We drugged 'im, so if you wanna talk to your old man,

it'll have to wait a while," Gunn told him.

Spike sputtered. "Angel has a son?!? Bloody effin' hell...can't the tosser

do anythin' like a normal vampire? First he gets a soddin' soul, now he's

"Um, you have a soul, too," Fred pointed out.

Spike glared at her, ready to shoot back a sharp retort, then his mouth

clacked shut. Damn, but the chit had a point. "So?" he said petulantly.

Rolling her eyes slightly, Fred didn't respond to his childish comment.

"Connor, why don't you go ahead and turn in? I can wake you up whenever

the tranquilizer wears off," she offered.

Connor stared at Fred for a moment as if she were from another dimension,

then shrugged and padded up the stairs, disappearing from sight as he reached

Blind, oh, but now I see.

Truth, lies, and in between.

Wrong can be undone.

Oh, slipped from the tip of your tongue.

"What's his problem?" Spike asked the other two.

Fred looked to Gunn helplessly.

The black man gave her a reassuring smile, then turned his attention back to Spike. "S'like this...Evil law firm resurrected Angel's sire, then did some heavy-duty mojo to make him flip out," he said.

"Which he totally did, according to what Cordelia said," Fred piped, then looked embarrassed. "Sorry, Gunn. Go ahead."

Gunn grinned at her and patted her hand. "Anyway, during Angel's

downward spiral, they threw Darla at him, and they got biblical."

Spike snorted at Gunn's interesting turn of phrase.

Fred giggled softly.

"Afterward, he came to his senses and kicked Darla to the curb. He didn't even mention it to anyone else. And, we had so much goin' on anyway, with demons, and vampires, and goin' to Pylea to rescue Cordelia," Gunn shrugged.

"And then when we came back, the redhead was here, tellin' Angel that some girl was dead-"

"Buffy," Fred put in helpfully.

Gunn nodded. "Yeah, Buffy."

Spike winced at the memory of the Slayer's short-lived death.

"So, I guess it slipped his mind for a while," Gunn continued. "So, when Darla showed up outta nowhere, lookin' like she'd swallowed a basket-ball, no one knew what was goin' on, except Angel."

Spike snorted. "Woulda paid to see the look on the sod's face."

Gunn grinned. "Come to think of it, yeah. It was pretty funny."

Fred snickered a little, then put her hand over her mouth, looking

"So, everyone's ticked at Angel for not tellin' us what was goin' on,

and the evil law firm somehow found out about the kid through some scroll, and was sendin' assassins to get Angel outta the way so they could take Darla and the baby," Gunn said.

"Oh! And then Holtz showed up with that scabby demon, too," Fred said.

Gunn nodded. "And the cult of vampires that wanted to sacrifice the kid or somethin'," he said.

"Sounds like one helluva party," Spike commented.

Gunn raised an eyebrow. "If you wanna look at it that way," he said.

"Anyway, we're fightin' off vampires and demons and lawyers right and left, and then Darla goes into labor in Angel's car," he told Spike.

"Wes re-translated the scroll about the baby, and figured out that it meant he wouldn't be born. Somethin' about vampires not bein' capable of bringin' life into the world or somethin'," he said.

"So, Darla staked herself, leavin' Connor squallin' on the concrete in an alley."

"Here's where it gets really bad," Fred added.

"Yeah...Holtz walked away, and we thought it was over, but it wasn't. Not by a longshot."

and it don't mean much.

cold on ice is a dead man's touch.

Whisper on a scream

doesn't change a thing

Doesn't bring you back, yeah.

"What happened? An' how is it that the kid's less than a year old an' he's a bloody teenager?" Spike asked.

"I'm gettin' there," Gunn assured him. "The lawyers didn't give up on gettin' their hands on Connor, and Holtz wanted to make Angel suffer for Angelus killin' his whole family two-hundred years ago," he said.

"Plus, the scabby demon guy had planted a false prophecy that made Wes think that Angel was goin' to lose it and kill Connor, so Wes was tryin' to figure out a way to protect him."

Gunn took a deep breath. "Justine, who was workin' with Holtz, convinced Wes that they'd protect Connor, so when Angel was out, he kidnapped Connor."

Spike's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He'd never have suspected

Wesley of having the knackers to do anything that crazy.

"Justine slit Wes' throat and took Connor to Holtz. They were gonna drive

off into the sunrise and raise him as their own, or so Justine thought. Holtz

was planning to ditch her the whole time. Anyway, they got blocked off by

the lawyers, the scabby demon, and Angel, who was majorly pissed," Gunn said.

"The lawyers wanted to kill Holtz and take the baby, but Angel was in the

way. Holtz promised Angel he'd protect Connor and raise him as his own,

and Angel was afraid Connor would get caught in the crossfire, so he agreed," he said.

"Except, the demon didn't like that idea, and opened a portal to a Hell

dimension. He threatened to make it swallow the world if Angel didn't

hand Connor over. Angel wasn't havin' any of that, but before he could

do anything, Holtz bolted, straight into the portal, and took Connor with

"Angel tried everything, including black magick, trying to open a portal

to Quartoth, to get Connor back," Fred said softly. "He didn't seem to

care about anything else. He wouldn't even eat unless we made him. It

was like he didn't have any reason to live unless he had Connor back."

" 'Bout three weeks after it all happened, we finally convinced Angel to

concentrate on other things, and try to accept that Connor was gone.

He tried to, he really did, and I think he was starting to get over it, at

least a little, when a portal opened up right about where you're sitting,

and out pops this ass-ugly demon, and a teenage kid," Gunn said, then

"That boy opened up a serious can of whup-ass on the demon, then

damn-near staked Angel before anyone got their jaws off the floor," the black man said.

"I think I just about fell over when he looked at Angel and said 'Hi, Dad,'

then tried to stake him," Fred said.

and it don't mean much.

cold on ice is a dead man's touch.

Whisper on a scream

doesn't change a thing.

Doesn't bring you back.

Spike shook his head. "Bet Angel just about keeled over himself," he said, smirking slightly.

"Probably...He was a little too busy fighting to keep Connor from killing him to really faint, I think," Fred opined.

"Yeah...Where was I? Oh, yeah...So, Connor shows up, and he and Angel fight. I'm gonna glaze over the rest," Gunn said.

"Anyway, turns out that Holtz came back with Connor, and had planned his own death, and was gonna frame Angel for it. Justine stabbed him in the throat twice with an ice-pick, and Connor thought Angel'd killed him, since he and Holtz had been talkin'," he explained.

"So, Justine offers to help him wreak vengeance, and they lock Angel in a stone coffin with a glass lid, then drop him in the ocean," Gunn said.

"We finally found him with a heavy-duty locator spell, but it wasn't easy. He'd been in there for two months, and hadn't had anything to eat. Angel was pretty wacked when we first got him out," Gunn said.

Spike nodded. "I can well imagine. Starvin' isn't exactly pleasant, even if you are immortal. Actually, that just makes it worse."

"He's been back for a week, but he's still kinda delirious sometimes. He's not in too good shape, no matter how much he drinks," Fred told Spike.

The blonde vampire stood abruptly and walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge and sniffing the containers of blood. "No bloody wonder he's still nutters," he scoffed. "Only thing he's got to bloody feed on is this bovine swill," he said.

"Is that a bad thing?" Fred inquired meekly.

"It takes more than animal blood to help a vampire heal, ducks," Spike said. "It's just not the same as human, no matter how much you drink."

"You want us to drag some poor bastard in here for Angel to chew on?" Gunn demanded askance.

Spike sighed. "No, you blighter. I'm talkin' 'bout Red Cross. I'll run over and nab some of the expired stuff afore they throw it out."

"Oh. Alright then," Gunn said, mollified.

Spike grinned. "Back in a jiff," he said, then disappeared in a swirl of black leather, the door slamming behind him.

Fred looked at Gunn. "He seemed nice. For a vampire."

Gunn raised an eyebrow at her. "You're really cute. You know that?"

Oh, blue on black.


	Night falls down alone. Skin, yeah, chill me to the bone You turned and you ran. Oh, yeah. Oh, slipped right from my hand Spike stood staring at the door of the Hyperion silently, his hands fidgeting nervously until he realized what he was doing and shoved them into the pockets of his black leather duster, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It would be so simple just to raise one hand and knock on the door. Hell, he could even dispense with that and walk straight in. The Hyperion served as the headquarters for Angel Investigations. The door wasn't likely to be locked. Still, Spike hesistated. If he'd had a heartbeat, he was sure it would've been racing at the moment. Memories flickered through his mind of the last time he'd seen Angel. He'd paid to have him tortured for the location of the Ring of Amara. Spike silently cursed the panarama that his vampiric total recall was playing out in his mind's eye. The memories were making him nauseous. He was disgusted with himself. Taking a shaky, albeit unneeded, breath, Spike briefly closed his eyes, and then raised his hand to knock once, solidly, upon the door of the Hyperion. There was the sharp click click click of someone's heels coming across the floor, and then it swung inward to reveal a young woman with dark, shining hair and glasses perched on a pixie-like nose. Spike frowned slightly. He'd never seen her before. Clearing his throat nervously, the blonde vampire shifted his weight once again, fighting the urge to fidget some more, or maybe run. "I'm lookin' for Angel," he said, glad that his voice didn't break as he'd feared it would. The girl's eyes widened slightly. "Well, um, he's resting right now," she said anxiously. Spike's brow furrowed. "It's ten past midnight. What kind of vampire sleeps at night?" he questioned, his stomach lurching uncomfortably as the words passed his lips. Giving him a tremulous smile, the girl moved aside to let him in. "Okay, he's not asleep...But he should be. He doesn't listen to us, even when it's for his own good," she said. Spike had to chuckle a little at that, even though the laughter felt bitter and stale in his throat. "That's Angel all the way. A more hard-headed Mick you'll never find." The girl's mouth formed a small 'O' of surprise at the derogatory term for the Irish and she seemed to be questioning the wisdom of letting Spike into the hotel. "Don't fret, luv," Spike told her, feeling guilty for flustering her. "Angel an' I go back a long way. He's called me worse, trust me." Seemingly satisfied by that, the girl turned her back on him. "Gunn! Someone's here looking for Angel," she called out. A few moments later, a young African-American man entered the room, his gaze falling on the girl with obvious affection. "Who's lookin' for Angel?" The girl gestured to Spike. "I, uh...I'm sorry...what was your name?" Spike smiled. " M'Spike," he said. "Where is Angel, anyway? If he's not sleepin', I'd think the noise woulda gotten him curious by now." The man grinned before assuming a serious look. "He isn't seeing anyone right now." The girl looked worried. "He's not worse, is he?" "Naw. I just slipped elephant tranq into his blood. He's sleepin' like a baby," the man said, the grin returning full-force. "Don't worry, Fred. He'll be a'ight." Frustrated with the conversation, Spike growled softly. "Bloody hell...Will someone tell me what's goin' on?!" "Gunn..." Fred said, eyes widening at the sound of the growl. The man, Gunn, stepped in front of Fred protectively and Spike threw up his hands. "Gimme a break...if I wanted either of you dead, don't you think I'd've bloody done somethin' already?" Spike demanded, then started pacing, lighting a cigarette as he moved. "Look, Angel's my bloody Sire in every way that matters, alright?" he told them. "Ran across a demon in Kampala, got meself a brand new shiny effin' soul, an' since the Brooding One is the only other vampire that's ever had one, I came here," Spike bit out, then spun and flopped gracefully onto the plush leather couch, taking a deep drag off of his cigarette. Blue on black, tears on a river; push on a shove, and it don't mean much. Joker on Jack, match on a fire; cold on ice is a dead man's touch. Whisper on a scream doesn't change a thing. Don't bring you back... Blue on black. Gunn and Fred exchanged a look, then relaxed slightly. "I'm guessin' you didn't get a soul on purpose?" Gunn asked. Spike gave him a 'do I look stupid enough to do that' look. "Didn't think so." Fred bit her lower lip. "How long until the tranquilizer wears off?" Gunn shrugged. "It'll keep a bull elephant out for six hours, but Angel's mule-stubborn. I'm guessin' three, max." Spike snorted at Gunn's assessment of Angel. He certainly had the ex- drunken Irishman pegged. "So, I guess I'll just have to wait for Sleepin' Ugly to wake up then, won't I?" he commented. He turned toward the door as he heard it open and raised an eyebrow at the teenage boy that walked into the hotel, his face a blank mask. His eyes, however, were anything but blank, and Spike nearly shuddered at the look of guilt and hopelessness he saw in the dark chocolate orbs. "Connor! Ohmygod, we've been so worried about you! Where have you been? Are you alright? Have you seen Cordelia?" Fred blurted, machine-gun fast. The boy, Connor, stared at her for a moment in what seemed like astonishment, then simply shook his head. "No." Fred looked confused. "Um...to which question?" "I haven't seen Cordelia," he responded. Something nagged at the edge of Spike's awareness. There was a strange familiarity about the boy, but the vampire didn't remember ever having met, or even laid eyes on him before. Sensing he was being studied, Connor turned that intense gaze on Spike, his eyes turning suddenly cold as steel. "Vampire," he nearly growled, and pulled a stake out of his waistband. Spike felt his eyes widen a bit and put his hands in the air. " 'Ey, no need to get stake-happy. I'm retired." "He has a soul," Fred piped. Apparently coming to a decision, Connor tucked the stake away and looked at Gunn. "Where's my father?" "Upstairs, sleepin'. We drugged 'im, so if you wanna talk to your old man, it'll have to wait a while," Gunn told him. Spike sputtered. "Angel has a son?!? Bloody effin' hell...can't the tosser do anythin' like a normal vampire? First he gets a soddin' soul, now he's makin' rugrats?!" "Um, you have a soul, too," Fred pointed out. Spike glared at her, ready to shoot back a sharp retort, then his mouth clacked shut. Damn, but the chit had a point. "So?" he said petulantly. Rolling her eyes slightly, Fred didn't respond to his childish comment. "Connor, why don't you go ahead and turn in? I can wake you up whenever the tranquilizer wears off," she offered. Connor stared at Fred for a moment as if she were from another dimension, then shrugged and padded up the stairs, disappearing from sight as he reached the landing. Blind, oh, but now I see. Truth, lies, and in between. Wrong can be undone. Oh, slipped from the tip of your tongue. "What's his problem?" Spike asked the other two. Fred looked to Gunn helplessly. The black man gave her a reassuring smile, then turned his attention back to Spike. "S'like this...Evil law firm resurrected Angel's sire, then did some heavy-duty mojo to make him flip out," he said. "Which he totally did, according to what Cordelia said," Fred piped, then looked embarrassed. "Sorry, Gunn. Go ahead." Gunn grinned at her and patted her hand. "Anyway, during Angel's downward spiral, they threw Darla at him, and they got biblical." Spike snorted at Gunn's interesting turn of phrase. Fred giggled softly. "Afterward, he came to his senses and kicked Darla to the curb. He didn't even mention it to anyone else. And, we had so much goin' on anyway, with demons, and vampires, and goin' to Pylea to rescue Cordelia," Gunn shrugged. "And then when we came back, the redhead was here, tellin' Angel that some girl was dead-" "Buffy," Fred put in helpfully. Gunn nodded. "Yeah, Buffy." Spike winced at the memory of the Slayer's short-lived death. "So, I guess it slipped his mind for a while," Gunn continued. "So, when Darla showed up outta nowhere, lookin' like she'd swallowed a basket-ball, no one knew what was goin' on, except Angel." Spike snorted. "Woulda paid to see the look on the sod's face." Gunn grinned. "Come to think of it, yeah. It was pretty funny." Fred snickered a little, then put her hand over her mouth, looking embarrassed. "So, everyone's ticked at Angel for not tellin' us what was goin' on, and the evil law firm somehow found out about the kid through some scroll, and was sendin' assassins to get Angel outta the way so they could take Darla and the baby," Gunn said. "Oh! And then Holtz showed up with that scabby demon, too," Fred said. Gunn nodded. "And the cult of vampires that wanted to sacrifice the kid or somethin'," he said. "Sounds like one helluva party," Spike commented. Gunn raised an eyebrow. "If you wanna look at it that way," he said. "Anyway, we're fightin' off vampires and demons and lawyers right and left, and then Darla goes into labor in Angel's car," he told Spike. "Wes re-translated the scroll about the baby, and figured out that it meant he wouldn't be born. Somethin' about vampires not bein' capable of bringin' life into the world or somethin'," he said. "So, Darla staked herself, leavin' Connor squallin' on the concrete in an alley." "Here's where it gets really bad," Fred added. "Yeah...Holtz walked away, and we thought it was over, but it wasn't. Not by a longshot." Blue on black, tears on a river; push on a shove, and it don't mean much. Joker on Jack, match on a fire; cold on ice is a dead man's touch. Whisper on a scream doesn't change a thing Doesn't bring you back, yeah. Blue on black. "What happened? An' how is it that the kid's less than a year old an' he's a bloody teenager?" Spike asked. "I'm gettin' there," Gunn assured him. "The lawyers didn't give up on gettin' their hands on Connor, and Holtz wanted to make Angel suffer for Angelus killin' his whole family two-hundred years ago," he said. "Plus, the scabby demon guy had planted a false prophecy that made Wes think that Angel was goin' to lose it and kill Connor, so Wes was tryin' to figure out a way to protect him." Gunn took a deep breath. "Justine, who was workin' with Holtz, convinced Wes that they'd protect Connor, so when Angel was out, he kidnapped Connor." Spike's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He'd never have suspected Wesley of having the knackers to do anything that crazy. "Justine slit Wes' throat and took Connor to Holtz. They were gonna drive off into the sunrise and raise him as their own, or so Justine thought. Holtz was planning to ditch her the whole time. Anyway, they got blocked off by the lawyers, the scabby demon, and Angel, who was majorly pissed," Gunn said. "The lawyers wanted to kill Holtz and take the baby, but Angel was in the way. Holtz promised Angel he'd protect Connor and raise him as his own, and Angel was afraid Connor would get caught in the crossfire, so he agreed," he said. "Except, the demon didn't like that idea, and opened a portal to a Hell dimension. He threatened to make it swallow the world if Angel didn't hand Connor over. Angel wasn't havin' any of that, but before he could do anything, Holtz bolted, straight into the portal, and took Connor with him," Gunn said. "Angel tried everything, including black magick, trying to open a portal to Quartoth, to get Connor back," Fred said softly. "He didn't seem to care about anything else. He wouldn't even eat unless we made him. It was like he didn't have any reason to live unless he had Connor back." " 'Bout three weeks after it all happened, we finally convinced Angel to concentrate on other things, and try to accept that Connor was gone. He tried to, he really did, and I think he was starting to get over it, at least a little, when a portal opened up right about where you're sitting, and out pops this ass-ugly demon, and a teenage kid," Gunn said, then grinned. "That boy opened up a serious can of whup-ass on the demon, then damn-near staked Angel before anyone got their jaws off the floor," the black man said. "I think I just about fell over when he looked at Angel and said 'Hi, Dad,' then tried to stake him," Fred said. Blue on black, tears on a river; push on a shove, and it don't mean much. Joker on Jack, match on a fire; cold on ice is a dead man's touch. Whisper on a scream doesn't change a thing. Doesn't bring you back. Blue on black. Spike shook his head. "Bet Angel just about keeled over himself," he said, smirking slightly. "Probably...He was a little too busy fighting to keep Connor from killing him to really faint, I think," Fred opined. "Yeah...Where was I? Oh, yeah...So, Connor shows up, and he and Angel fight. I'm gonna glaze over the rest," Gunn said. "Anyway, turns out that Holtz came back with Connor, and had planned his own death, and was gonna frame Angel for it. Justine stabbed him in the throat twice with an ice-pick, and Connor thought Angel'd killed him, since he and Holtz had been talkin'," he explained. "So, Justine offers to help him wreak vengeance, and they lock Angel in a stone coffin with a glass lid, then drop him in the ocean," Gunn said. "We finally found him with a heavy-duty locator spell, but it wasn't easy. He'd been in there for two months, and hadn't had anything to eat. Angel was pretty wacked when we first got him out," Gunn said. Spike nodded. "I can well imagine. Starvin' isn't exactly pleasant, even if you are immortal. Actually, that just makes it worse." "He's been back for a week, but he's still kinda delirious sometimes. He's not in too good shape, no matter how much he drinks," Fred told Spike. The blonde vampire stood abruptly and walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge and sniffing the containers of blood. "No bloody wonder he's still nutters," he scoffed. "Only thing he's got to bloody feed on is this bovine swill," he said. "Is that a bad thing?" Fred inquired meekly. "It takes more than animal blood to help a vampire heal, ducks," Spike said. "It's just not the same as human, no matter how much you drink." "You want us to drag some poor bastard in here for Angel to chew on?" Gunn demanded askance. Spike sighed. "No, you blighter. I'm talkin' 'bout Red Cross. I'll run over and nab some of the expired stuff afore they throw it out." "Oh. Alright then," Gunn said, mollified. Spike grinned. "Back in a jiff," he said, then disappeared in a swirl of black leather, the door slamming behind him. Fred looked at Gunn. "He seemed nice. For a vampire." Gunn raised an eyebrow at her. "You're really cute. You know that?" Oh, blue on black. Oh, blue on black. Oh, blue on black.