The Plan by Lisa Drexel

by
Lisa Y. Drexel

It was uncanny how well Angel knew his childe. Oz's phone call only confirmed what he already suspected. He asked the werewolf to run a few more errands for him and then call him back.

And then Angel waited.

Soon Doyle came down the elevator, a six pack in hand and sat across from the vampire, sipping a Budweiser.

"I had another one, mate. Right after Legs left. It was a killer."

Angel looked up and met the demon's eyes. "What was it about?"

Doyle shook his head and didn't answer. Instead he studied the vampire and took a sip of his beer. "You still care for him, don't you?"

Angel nearly flinched at the question, silently berating his friend's perceptiveness. For a moment he even considered playing dumb, but decided that was pretty petty thing to do, so he nodded and said nothing.

Doyle's eyebrow shot up and silently finished his second beer and smashed the can. Tossing it in the air, he looked over at Angel. "Is it true he teamed up with the slayer to stop the world from being sucked into Hell?"

Angel nodded, noting his friend's reluctance to mention Angel's demon leading role in that fiasco. After giving Doyle a self-depreciating grin, he tore a beer off the plastic ring and leaned back in his chair and took a sip of it. "Whopped me good over the head with a tire iron."

"So, he has some redeeming qualities..."

Angel shrugged as he stared down at the phone, willing it to ring. He really didn't want to be wrong about this. "At least that's what Whistler says. And Buffy can't seem to kill him." *God, her name slid right off my tongue without a flinch. Amazing.* He looked up and saw Doyle playing with a piece of paper in his hand. "Why all the questions about Spike? What's this about?"

Doyle downed the last of his third beer and set on the coffee table. "My vision was about him. Funny, you and him are the only two demons I've ever had visions about." He shook his head and sighed softly. "He's at a crossroads, Angel my man. He could go either way."

"Meaning what?"

Doyle took a deep breath. "Meaning he could chose to work for our side and become one of the most proficient fighters for the good there has been or he could say the hell with it and finally let his demon totally out to play."

The phone rang.

Angel snatched it up, silently replaying Doyle's last sentence in his mind. "Oz?"

"Yeah Angel. I found him. His car's parked at the mansion, but he's decided to drown in his sorrows at the warehouse."

"Did you go to Willie's?"

Oz chuckled softly. "Man, you know him pretty well, don't you? Anyways, Willie said Spike came in late last night and bought a bunch of blood. Human—but a lot of it."

Angel rubbed his tired face. "Okay, thanks Oz. I really appreciate it. One last favor—can you ask Willow to call me and don't let Buffy know. Not yet."

"Sure thing, man. Consider it done. So, what are you planning?"

Angel chuckled, amazed at how good he felt about this. "To enforce some parental authority, Oz. Show the boy who's the boss."

Angel could almost see the werewolf's grin eighty miles away. "Have fun, Angel. Sounds like you're going to enjoy yourself."

"Thanks again, Oz."

Angel turned off the phone and looked up at Doyle.

"You knew—how?"

Angel shrugged. "Call it childe-sire bond or gut instinct—whatever. But when I found out who he hooked up with in Sunnydale, I just knew."

The vampire shook his head, feeling his dead heart rip out of his chest as various scenes of his childe played out in his mind. "The only thing Harmony has in common with Dru was her 'neediness.' But even that was just a show. The girl—now a vampire—is a product of her times. She can take care of herself and from what Oz said, she wasn't crazy.

"But she did go to high school with Buffy. She and Buffy did briefly hang out together. On the outside, they have a lot in common—not to mention that they both have long blond hair—"

"Wait a minute, Angel! You're losing me here. Are you saying Spike—the same bastard that had you kidnapped and tortured less than a day ago not to mention nearly beating your ex's face into the ground is in love with her?"

Sadly, the vampire nodded. "That's why he keeps going back there—despite his ass getting repeatedly beat."

Doyle still looked unconvinced. "Then why the ring?"

Laughing softly, Angel shook his head. "I don't know. He probably had some vague plan to either woe Dru back or to whisk Buffy off her feet." Angel sighed. "It didn't even occur to me that he did love her—until he told me about Buffy's tryst. I know he was saying it to hurt me—which it did, but what I didn't expect to see was how much it hurt him. It was his eyes—defiant, angry, and impatient and then suddenly, they turned cold and enraged. He was so jealous that the demon took over—which is probably why he nearly killed her."

"Shouldn't you be staking him then?"

Angel shook his head no. "He won't turn her. I know him well enough to know that if he loves her now—he loves her with her soul intact. He wouldn't risk losing that. He may still try to kill her—but he's been proven pretty inept in that as well. So," Angel paused and grinned at Doyle. "I'm going to do something much worse to him."

"What—what's worse than dusting the bloke?"

Angel laughed outloud, a huge smile breaking over his face. "I'm actually going to enjoy this—way too much. I'm going to hold his soul over his head. I've already talked to Whistler and he agreed to take a copy of the spell and an Orb of Thessulah, so if anything happens to any of us, by Spike's hand or inaction, he'll get his soul as punishment. And, I'm going to order him to help Buffy—or he'll get his soul back."

For two days, he drank.

Then he showed up.

The bleeding sod.

A contract in one hand, a huge grin across his face and a pen in his other hand.

The fucking prick.

No way out now.... That's all he could think of as he signed his bleeding name on the dotted line.

No way out.

He was here for good.

And the poof—he knew. Somehow Spike knew he knew. He could tell by his sire's curl of his lips and the knowing smirk on his face when he told Spike he had two more days to drink himself into oblivion and then he was expected to show up and help Buffy patrol.

Did he notice Spike's arousal when the slayer's name slid from his lips?

Did Peaches know how badly Spike wanted to be the man in her life? Why he kept coming back to the Sunnyhell—no matter how many times she beat him into submission?

Did he know?

Spike looked up at his sire in a drunken haze and for just a moment, all was clear.

Poof did know and that's what he was counting on.

"Bloody fucking hell," Spike mumbled to himself as he finished off the last of his tequila.

The last of his last bottle of his old life.

Wasn't life just grand?

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