Musical Wars
Chapter 9 -- Hunting Without the Master

Within a couple of seconds, Xander found himself ushered into T's office, a telephone book thrust into his hands. Carlos then took up sentry at the door as if expecting rogue vampires to burst through any second.

He dialed the phone with trembling fingers, his demon shifting uncomfortably. He felt like just shouting at the thing, but generally preferred to avoid looking like a complete and total loon. The phone on the other end stopped ringing, and a male voice answered.

“Angel Investigation, helpin’ the hopeless,” the voice didn’t sound like Angel—far too cheerful, but he could hear Cordelia’s offended squeal at the greeting, so he clearly had the right place. Irish accent fit too, even though he’d never heard Angel speak with so much lilt.

“Angel?” he asked tentatively.

“Not likely,” the voice laughed. “Doyle here, how canna help ya?”

“Um, is Angel there?” 

“Not right at the moment, but I’ll take a message if ye want.”

“Yeah…I mean, no. Can I talk to Cordelia?” he finally settled on. He could hear indistinct voices in the background, and then the familiar voice came through the phone.

“Cordelia Chase here,” sang the melodious tones.

“Just me, Cordelia, Xander.” 

“Oh,” the voice quickly dropped into a near bored expression. “You left Angel even more depressed than usual, which is a bit of an achievement. He hasn’t even commented on my new jacket. Must've dropped like a dozen hints, too.” Xander smiled, he could almost imagine her doing her nails just like in 7th grade with that first year teacher they had managed to drive out of the profession.

“We’ve got a problem down at Safari. I’m not sure, but I think there are several vamps in the crowd.” He waited for a response, but the phone was silent for several seconds.

“Think? If there are no ridges and screaming people, it’s a little hard to tell, even for us professionals.” Cordelia tried to keep the tone equally light and carefree, but he could hear the undertones of worry in her voice.

“Yeah, it’s kinda one of those things. My little piece of demon keeps raising the alarm, so I know something not human’s out on the floor.”

“Probably just indigestion.” Cordelia quipped, but he could hear a pencil madly scratching across paper. He couldn’t decide if she was being sweet by trying not to worry him or offensive by trying to hide things. The Cordelia he knew in school would have meant it as an insult, but this new Cordelia? He wasn’t so sure. 

“We really need Angel here,” he interrupted her writing and he could hear a frustrated sigh. Could almost hear her eyes rolling. 

“We as in ‘me and Spike’ or we as in ‘me and whoever else is here and when Spike shows up he’s going to go all postal on Angel again’?”

“Um, the second,” Xander admitted. “Spike left about an hour ago, and I don’t know how to reach him. I don’t know who else to call.”

“We’ll pick up Angel at the butcher and come straight down. You just sit put and stay in the back.” Cordelia ordered in a voice that obviously expected immediate obedience. Damn, Spike was right about her making a good vampire. He didn’t bother arguing even though he had no intention of running from a fight.

“Thanks, Cordelia.”

“Whatever…it’s our job,” Cordelia dismissed his thanks and hung up the phone without another word. Yep, that was the Cordelia Chase he knew and no longer hated.

“They on their way then?” Carlos asked from his position next to the door.

“Yeah. They’re coming.” He walked over to lean again the wall next to Carlos. His demon stalked through his mind like a predator seeking the scent of blood, and he pushed it back again. Aggressive little bugger today, he thought to himself, but then Carlos’ words brought him back to reality.

“Xander, you made your call, so let’s just leave.” He could feel Carlos’ hand tightening on his arm, and he shrugged it off, unwilling to be ordered around like a child. True, he wasn’t the best in a fight, but he could hold his own and he would be a lot more prepared than most of the walking happy meals on the dance floor.

“I’m not leaving them. What if Angel doesn’t get here before they start pulling people out? Na-uh. Not going.” Xander turned to out of the office and he felt a strong arm pull him back, pushing him up against the wall.

“You are *not* going out there,” Carlos insisted, and for the first time he could see the inhuman blood reflected in Carlos’ face, the skin blushing with blue.

“What? Are you going to play slaver? Thought you didn’t like those games?” He could see Carlos flinch from the accusation, releasing him from the wall.

“Xander,” Carlos began in a low, pleading voice. That made him stop where nothing else had, but he wasn’t going to give up all control over his life, not yet, not ever. "Take this," Carlos pressed a stake into his hand.

"This regulation for a bouncer?" he asked as Carlos pulled a second stake from the back of his pants and tucked it into the front.

"I seem to spend an uncomfortable amount of time hanging out with a vampire and his pet, of course I carry wood. Are you sure you won't just wait here?" Carlos pleaded.

“Going now,” he cheerfully announced as he left the room. He walked down the hall onto the main floor, his shadow close enough behind that he could hear the bouncer’s footsteps. He made his way to the bar and Carlos must have signaled T because the man came out from behind the bar almost immediately and met them by the kitchen door where the music was only slightly less deafening.

"Vamp problem," Carlos said.

"Oh sweet Jesus, no," T closed his eyes in obvious despair before putting on a face that looked remarkably like the resolve face his best friend back in Sunnydale used to use. "Okay, do we need to call Gunn?"

"Gunn can't tell a human from a vamp; we need someone who can," Xander pointed out, trying to make sure that T understood the logic and didn't assume that he just wanted to avoid calling his former friend. "We need someone who can spot them, and that means we need a vamp."

"I only know one vamp on a first name basis, and I don't see him around." T waved toward the crowd.

"He's busy," Xander admitted. "But Angel is coming."

"Angel?" T turned a confused expression first to him and then to Carlos. Carlos simply shrugged.

"Angel has a soul; he runs a supernatural detective agency, and yes I do know how completely corny that sounds, but I can't help it. He doesn't kill at all, doesn't even really like Spike because Spike won't give up killing. He'll do the right thing," Xander pleaded with T to believe that he knew what he was talking about. If T called Gunn, the crew would just lose more people.

"Are you sure about him?" T asked, concern and fear and anger all tangled in his expression.

"Yeah, I am," Xander responded.

"Good enough for me," T said. "So, I assume closing the club would be bad."

"Not for the vamps, it'd let them pick off the humans one at a time," Carlos pointed out. "Best if we just wait." So the three of them moved to the corner of the bar where they stood watching the crowd and waiting for the disaster to strike. It felt like hours, but Xander's watch suggested that only about fifteen minutes had passed before the shit hit the proverbial fan.

“Oh shit,” T swore as the first scream pierced the air. Xander looked toward the sound, but a tingling in his skull cautioned him and he turned in time to see a short little man standing three feet away vamp out.

“Xander!” Carlos cried out, but he had already brought up his stake, driving it forward so fast that the vampire didn’t have time to do anything other than look surprised, the expression turned into a dust sculpture for one second before the body floated to the ground. He turned, his attention back to the floor, ignoring the hand that pulled him as he planted himself beside the kitchen door. 

“Shit, the customers,” T cried, and Xander realized that the club had become a cattle pen, trapping the humans into a small confined, confused space where the vamps could feed amid the panic. Reaching out, he grabbed a wide-eyed Hispanic man wearing clothes so tight that they outlined his stomach bulge. He pulled the man toward the kitchen door before shoving him through and yelling to T.

“Keep them back there.” He reached out and grabbed another man, the demon stirred, but Xander could tell that it wanted to kill the prey; it didn’t feel threatened. He assumed that meant human and he shoved the man toward the back. He hadn’t gotten any farther before the demon in his mind howled, and he looked up to see Angel standing at the doorway holding an axe. Cordelia, stake in hand, stood on one side of him and the green-eyed man he vaguely remembered from Cassidy’s lair stood on the other. He made eye contact with Angel for a moment before he continued his impromptu inspection and evacuation process. 

He had refined the process, grabbing arms and flinging bodies towards Carlos when he touched an arm that made his demon growl and snap within his mind. Pulling back, he braced himself for the yellow eyes that turned to lock in on him. He brought up the stake and started a lunge, but the vamp fell back and to one side. Xander refused to fall for the same trap he had laid for Ajani, so he aborted and withdrew, circling some and watching the vamp move. The vamp stabbed at him with a clawed hand, and he grabbed the outstretched wrist and yanked, pulling the vamp off balance before driving the stake into its heart. The ash flew to the ground with the momentum of a falling body.

Xander exulted in his kill. Either that or the demon did, but damn it felt good. He shook his head to refocus and re-start his evacuations; he turned to find Carlos. The man had stepped forward, standing barely two feet behind him with wide, amazed eyes. Yep, he crowed to himself, he did that, he shocked the big, bad bouncer. 

“Get ‘em outta here,” he shouted at he pushed a human toward Carlos. Carlos simply thrust the man toward the kitchen door, but he must have gotten the idea, because he scrambled toward safety.

“Not leaving you,” Carlos shouted over the screams, and Xander didn’t take time to argue as he pushed forward. A tingle behind him, and he turned to see Carlos’ stake stab into a vamp, reducing it to dust. He glanced back and saw T now standing guard at the door with several crosses, so he slid farther into the crowd, Carlos at his back, as he pushed the humans toward the door to safety and searched for more enemies. 

A third vamp turned to dust before it could turn its eyes to him, and he continued, the demon voice in his mind bellowing in triumph. Strong. Worthy. It roared. Xander wasn’t sure he’d go that far, but he certainly didn’t feel like the sidekick loser. He wasn’t the second-string vamp bait. He didn’t have to hide behind the real vampire-hunters.

He sunk into his internal monologue…dialogue? Was it a dialogue if the two people involved lived in the same brain? Maybe he’d have to go find his junior English teacher and ask. The crowd had thinned to a few milling people, and he felt the tingle of vampire. 

He quickly spun, driving the stake forward and throwing his weight behind it only to find his hand diverted so that the stake sunk into flesh and his own body was pulled forward into a hard embrace. His demon panicked, and Xander did the same, pulling back wildly without even affecting the huge vampire. He unexpectedly felt the vamp stumble forward, and he pulled up his legs, taking advantage of the moment to throw the vamp off balance. He felt them both head for the ground, and he tucked his legs closer, hoping to have a chance to drive home a few well aimed kicks once on the ground. 

“Xander, enough!” he heard a deep voice yell, and he wrenched himself out of that tight embrace only to look over at Angel, on the floor, a stake embedded in his abdomen. Wow, he had really missed the heart on that one. He struggled to his feet, and he looked for Carlos. The bouncer stood not more that a couple feet away, blue-flushed skin and a broken stool in his hands as he struggled with the green-eyed friend of Angel hanging on his arm and Cordelia clinging to his back, her legs wrapped around his middle. Carlos looked ready to topple under the weight, and Xander shouted.

“Carlos, it’s okay; they’re the ones we called.” Xander knew that Carlos had heard when the bouncer lowered the stool and the strange man before returning to a more human skin tone. Cordelia still perched on him as though getting a piggy back ride. He looked around and realized that the five of them were alone in a room full of broken furniture and a couple of broken human bodies. Ugh.

“You can get off me now, girl,” Carlos pointed out, and he watched as Cordelia untangled herself and slid to the ground.

“Not nice to stake other people’s vamps,” she criticized, and Xander could feel the wrongness in the statement. His demon complained about the human girl claiming a powerful old master, the master of his line, Xander suddenly realized. He studied Angel and the fear of the older vamp remained, but he could also feel the demon’s grudging deference to the head of the line.

“Sorry about that,” Xander said with a wave toward the stake that Angel had pulled out of his own stomach with a grunt.

“You’ve been training with William,” Angel replied, and it took a half-second for him to translate the proper sounding ‘William’ into his own oh-so-improper Spike. 

“Well, yeah.” He decided to leave Ajani out of the discussion. Some things Angel just didn’t need to know. Angel looked at him strangely, and he feared the vampire could hear the omission.

“Let’s talk,” Angel reached out for his arm, and suddenly Carlos stood between them.

“He’ll stay here,” Carlos insisted, blocking Xander’s view of Angel.

“Isn’t that his choice?” Angel asked, the threat in his voice clear in the slight growl.

“Carlos, it’s okay.” Xander put his hand on Carlos’ arm to soothe the obviously angry man. “Angel has a soul; he’s not like other vamps,” he assured the fuming bouncer who now appeared to be bathed in a blue light, even though all the colored lights had gone off and the brights had been turned on shortly after the attacked started. 

“Stay back,” Carlos insisted, pushing Xander farther behind his own large body.

“Don’t push him around.” Around Carlos’ body he could see Angel step up, the brown eyes twinkling with yellow in an expression he had never see on Spike because Spike had usually vamped out long before getting that angry.

“Whoa, back off there guys,” he tried in his best imitation of Cordelia. And when you had to imitate a cheerleader to seem manlier, that really was reaching the bottom of the barrel. Unfortunately the real Cordelia chose this moment to decide to mind her own business, leaning against a table and examining a finger for either a splinter or a broken nail, he couldn’t tell which.

“Xander,” Carlos said in a warning tone, but he had endured enough coddling for the day.

“No, Carlos. Angel is a giant pain in the arse, as Spike would say, well actually Spike would be more likely to say giant Pouf or Peaches or Hair-boy, but you get the general picture.” Xander stepped out around Carlos, dodging the arm that tried to pull him back into protective custody. His demon lurched forward, making Xander gasp for air for just a second before he settled himself and his demon with a firm mental push.

Carlos looked ready to argue, but he felt a cool hand on his arm pulling him behind the vampire.

“Decision made,” Angel snapped and then pushed him toward the back room. When T appeared at the door with his armory of crosses, Xander stepped forward.

“T, get everyone out; it’s safe now.”

“Sweetie, you may feel safe around vamps, but I sure don’t. Why don’t you come with us?” he asked with a glance toward his large guard.

“Angel’s cool, well not cool as in he dresses cool but cool as in he won’t eat anyone type cool.” Xander bit his tongue, ordering it to stop babbling, but some things never changed. 

“Sure,” T said slowly, and he could see Angel flinch under the disbelief. “Come on gentlemen, the tour of the kitchen is over and the criminals are gone, so we need to get outta here,” Xander watched at the tall thin man waved the terrified customers out the door like a parade marshal. The only time T even showed the stress came when he saw his broken club. He stopped, his eyes moving from one corner to another, and then he shrugged. “Can always go back to tending bar,” he sighed. 

When the customers and employees had abandoned the building, Angel gestured him into the back, away from three pairs of curious eyes. Once in back, Xander leaned against the prep table and waited for the lecture to come. He knew what to expect…what business did he have trying to fight…he was just a weak human…his demon wasn’t normal…he shouldn’t be with Spike…Spike couldn’t be trusted. He buried himself in his inner conversation so deeply that it took quite a while before he realized that Angel wasn’t talking. In fact, the dark vampire simply leaned against a wall, his arms crossed, and his eyes focused on Xander. 

Angel sighed, and Xander suppressed an urge to laugh. He knew he couldn’t carry a conversation, but he was just an eighteen year old loser; here was a 250 year old vampire with social skills even lower that Xander's own. 

“You wanted something?” Xander finally asked.

“Spike’s not treating you like a pet, is he?” Angel asked, serious brown eyes searching for some answer Xander didn’t understand. He shrugged an answer.

“He isn’t treating me like Cassidy did, but then Cassidy’s dust, so he isn’t treating me like anything these days.”

“This isn’t a joke.”

“It’s my life, which implies it is a joke, actually.” Xander watched the frustration growing on Angel’s features, and he wondered if he should tone it down with the older vampire. He really didn’t know him that well.

“He could hurt you,” Angel stated, the ‘he’ in the sentence unspoken but clear.

“He could,” Xander agreed, feeling a need to be honest. “But he treats me better than my own parents do.”

“He’s a demon.”

“So are you.”

“A soul-less demon,” Angel amended himself, and Xander didn’t have a response to that. He stood there and examined his nails.

“You don’t know what he’s really like.” Angel finally announced into the silence, and Xander looked up at that accusation. How many times had he heard his own father claimed to know what was best for him because Xander didn't really understand the way the world worked?

“I have an idea; I’m really not as stupid as I look. I know about his whole penchant for grooms although really that’s your fault since you always went for the brides.” He didn’t even feel guilty about the pained expression; after all Angel was trying to get him to leave Spike. “I know about dragging people back to the lair so that Dru could play with them both before and after they died, and can I just say ewww here. I know how he kills; I know where his name comes from; I see what he is.”

“And do you see how much you’ve changed?” Angel stepped forward this time. “Do you see what you’ve become in one week? How much of you will be left in another week or a month or a year?” 

“You don’t know who I was a week ago or even four years ago before Cassidy.”

“I’ve talked to Gunn; I have a pretty good idea who you were a week ago, and the man Gunn described is not the same man I saw out there on that floor.”

“Gunn? What, did he tell you what a loser I was? He describe how I got Frederick killed? He tell the story about how I dropped the stake when I tried to dust that old-man vamp? That’s one of his favorites.” Xander hadn’t realized how much he resented being the center of the crew’s jokes until Angel’s words. When he had been part of that family, it felt like brotherly ribbing. Now it felt like a betrayal. Gunn had told this man, this vampire, all about his failures. He didn’t want Angel to look at him as the loser.

“He told me you were a moral man who would do anything to protect his friends, to protect innocents.” Angel had frozen in the middle of the room as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. The hands finally crossed over his chest. 

“I haven’t changed that much then,” he replied with a wave toward the dance floor. “Carlos begged me to leave, but I wouldn’t walk away from this.”

“But the man Gunn described wasn't fighting out there on the floor tonight.”

“So we’re back to the whole it can't be me if I'm not a big loser thing. I *can* take care of myself.”

“You can’t, not against Spike. I can protect you.”

“Don’t really feeling like trading up, thanks,” Xander replied even though he doubted that Angel would be a step up. The man seriously needed Prozac and he could imagine hating him if he spent any amount of time around him.

“I could get you a ticket to some place where vamps wouldn’t be likely to find you, where you could be independent. Montana maybe, went through there once and didn’t find a vamp in the whole state.”

“I don’t need saving,” Xander insisted, and Angel stopped talking, focusing on Xander until Xander felt the demon squirm and he glared back.

“You really aren’t a normal pet,” Angel sighed.

“Hey! Getting sick of the complaints. In fact, I seem to remember telling someone that I would stake you next time you called me strange. ‘Course I kinda did stake you so maybe we can call it even.” Xander fought an urge to retreat behind the table as Angel stepped up to him, getting in his personal space and looking down at him imperiously.

“And if I said you were leaving tonight?” Angel asked, his eyes flashing yellow.

“I’d answer, ‘Over your dust,’ Deadboy, so let’s not go there.” Angel instantly retreated, turning away and leaning against the tile wall. “Just because you hate Spike doesn’t mean he’s all evil, and being that he’s a soulless demon that sounds really stupid, but it isn’t nearly as stupid as you might think.”

“I don’t hate William. I hate what I did to him.”

“You mean the whole sire-punishing-torture thing or the whole getting a soul and abandoning him to Darla thing?” Angel’s head snapped around and Xander caught his breath at the pain and fury he saw reflected for one instant before the calm and emotionless mask returned.

“He told you.”

“Yeah, some.”

“Then you know why he hates me. Even after Dru turned him he had humanity left in him, and that infuriated me. I turned him into the monster he is today, and don’t ever forget that he is a monster who has tortured and raped and enjoyed every minute.”

“He has that in him, but he’s more than that.”

“I wish I could believe you. There are days I wish I had William back.” Xander saw the pain and loss in Angel’s eyes, and he wished he knew the words to fix it because he recognized the expression of hopelessness. He’d seen it in the mirror often enough before Spike. A thought came to him. 

“Wait here,” he asked as he dashed for his locker and spun the lock open. Reaching inside the folded jeans, he pulled out the stack of CD’s and then locked his locker again. When he got back to the kitchen he pushed the stack of silver disks into a confused Angel’s hand. “Spike and I have a bit of a musical war going on, don’t really agree on the definition of good music,” he explained, but the confused look only grew deeper. “If you could hold on to these, it’ll drive Spike crazy trying to find them. Just please, promise you won’t scratch them until he comes for them.” Angel looked down at the bundle of discs for several seconds before he gave Xander a calculating stare. 

“I’ll keep them safe," he promised. "So, you don’t like pointless screaming either?”

“No, not really." He paused as the meaning of that settled in. "How do you know his musical tastes?”

“He’s my childe; I may have checked on him once or twice,” Angel admitted with a shrug, and Xander could see the ache in Angel’s eyes. He felt sympathy for a vampire trapped between a demon and a soul, but he also feared how much damage Angel could do if he decided to seriously interfere with their relationship.

"Then you know he's not a monster, not like the vamps out there," Xander waved toward the dance floor.

"I know Spike forms attachments. I know what he's willing to do to keep those attachments. It doesn't mean you're safe." Angel took a deep breath, strange habit for creatures that didn't need oxygen, but he supposed that even 200 years of being dead couldn't break some habits. 

"I've never been safe, and I probably won't ever be, but being with Spike doesn't feel nearly as dangerous as some things I've done…like in 11th grade, I goosed Mrs. Kerpel when we were on this field trip. That was pretty darn dangerous."

"I don't trust him."

"Then talk to him; don't just issue random threats, show him that the Angelus who cared about him is still down in there somewhere."

"That's not it." Angel fell silent, but this time Xander had the good sense to wait, feeling like Angel had more to say and he just needed time to say it. Finally the vampire started again. "Angelus hated him for being too human, too soft, too weak. Angelus humiliated him, took everything away from him and drove him to become harder. Angelus created Spike." Angel closed his eyes and turned away, and this time Xander stepped closer. Part of him wanted to reach out and put a comforting hand on the vampire's arm, but his own demon railed against that so he just stood closer. 

"And I hated him too at first. When I was turned, I destroyed my family; he tried to save what was left of his. I obliterated everything in my path; he tried to create this fairy-tale relationship with Dru." Angel stopped, but Xander could see the problem.

"You were jealous of him," he guessed, and the silence confirmed it. He got the feeling Angel didn't normally talk to people, so he couldn't imagine why the vampire had chosen him to confide in.

"I know how different Spike is, but I also know how dangerous he is. Stay with me," Angel turned and Xander felt himself pulled toward those dark eyes, but the memory of ice-blue eyes sparking with an evil sort of happiness interceded, and he backed up.

"I can't. I want Spike." For a moment, he feared that Angel would continue, but he simply nodded. 

"If you need me…" Angel allowed the words to trail off, but a crash and string of curses interrupted them.

Xander exchanged a quick look with Angel before dashing for the door, the tall vampire just behind him. He froze the instant he entered the main room, the sight of Spike in full game face holding Carlos against a wall and suspended above the floor stopping him cold. He felt a hand on his shoulder either because he had stopped too fast and startled Angel or because the older vampire wanted to offer comfort or protection. At that point, Xander nearly asked for protection because when Spike's eyes turned on him, he could feel his heart falter and his chest tighten.

"That wot ya call protectin' 'im?" Spike demanded in an accent so thick as to be nearly indecipherable. Carlos didn't respond, probably because of the hand around his neck, and Xander rushed forward.

"Spike, everything's fine, really, you can let him go now." He had nearly closed the distance between them when Spike's growl stopped him and he froze as Spike tilted his head up, glaring at him. Spike dropped Carlos and slowly circled. He turned to look at Angel for some sort of explanation, but the older vampire had moved over to his two friends, using his body as a shield. On the third circle, Spike moved in and grabbed him by the back of the neck, and Xander yielded without argument, allowing the vampire to pull him in close. 

"Ya poachin' now, Peaches? If we aren't respectin' each other's territory, I wouldn't mind doin' some poachin' of my own." Xander couldn't see since Spike had pulled him into his body so that his head was buried in Spike's shoulder, the hand held him there, but from Cordelia's gasp and Angel's growl, he could just imagine the look Spike had just given Cordelia.

"William," Angel snarled.

"Sod off," Spike snapped, and then he felt himself being propelled through the empty club to the door and the familiar motorcycle. When Spike got on, he climbed on behind even though he knew that this time he had screwed up, and the demon in him warned of punishment to come.

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