The Last Cut is the Deepest

Chapter Six

In the end, Angel "won" the battle of wills. The doctor hesitated to discharge Spike at all due to his weakened condition, and only the promise of top-notch private care – courtesy of the hospital's most generous corporate benefactors – convinced him.

Buffy continued refusing to leave Spike's side, certain not only that the former vampire had an inherent right to choose his own fate, but that Angel's evil bosses had something malevolent up their sleeves. And when whatever the Senior Partners had planned went down, she was going to be there to stop it. To protect Spike from something he wasn't in any condition to fight... and to protect Angel from the exact same thing.

His rage was like another person in the limo with them as they rode to the new apartment in Silver Lake. He sat to the farthest point of the bench seat across from them, his fathomless gaze nailed on the passing scenery had hadn't made eye contact with her even once since they left the hospital, although she occasionally caught him sneaking angry glances at her and Spike when he thought she wasn't looking.

It still completely stunned her that Angel had taken such an unreasonably rigid attitude toward her now human ex-lover. It wasn't that she didn't get it – after all, Anged ned never exactly been patient, diplomatic guy when it came to her other relationships. And of course, she knew full well that he and Spike had a history of animosity going back a hundred years or more that had nothing to do with her at all. But Angel was always the one to suck it up – whatever it was – and soldier on in spite of his personal feelings. Hadn't he been the one who kept trying to convince her that they could – and should – make their relationship work even in the face of incredible odds? Hadn't he been the one who'd torn both their hearts out when he left Sunnydale, because he'd known that ultimately, it was the best thing for both of them at the time? He was the one always so dedicated to doing the right thing no matter how much it hurt.

So why couldn't he do that now?

No matter how hard she thought about it, the whole thing just didn't wash. And if Angel refused to help Spike and find the answers they needed, it was left to her to do it. For all of their sakes.

The building was a marvel of stone and glass – an ultramodern complex with apartments on the top ten stories, offices on the second and shops on the ground floor. Buffy gaped at the vast, elegant entryway, with its marble floors and dark, rich colors, crystal chandeliers and antique tapestries. It reminded her of Angel's taste: subtle, classy and dramatic.

They passed by a security desk without pause as the four heavily armed guards recognized Angel, and made their way past the public elevators to another corridor. Angel opened the door at the end with a passcard and a retinal scan that would make the Initia gre green with envy. That little journey led them to another elevator secured with a digital combination lock, which, once they stepped inside the glass box, whisked them straight to the top of the building.

The penthouse was divided into two cavernous apartments with what appeared to be glass walls like those in Angel's office, leading out to a vast enclosed terrace with an Olympic-sized pool and a fairytale vista of the entire city beyond.

Spike whistled as he took it in, expressing her opinion perfectly. "So I got a choice between this and some crumbling old dung heap of a school dorm, eh?" he said, giving Buffy a look. "I gotta say, Slayer, I think giving up my free will might be a damn fair trade here."

Buffy scowled at him, but said nothing.

Angel directed the small crowd of hovering servants to set things up, and then turned to face the pair still waiting by the door.

"You should have everything you need here, Spike. The phone's programmed with keys to call security, housekeeping, the concierge, my office and my cell. You're not to leave the building without me for any reason, and I've made certain security is aware of that proviso. Any questions?"

Spike plunked down on the overstuffed black leather couch and kicked his spanking new Docs up on the chrome and glass coffee table. "Yeah. Where's my electronic tracking bracelet with the handy remote instant-death-by-electrocution feature?"

Angel's expression didn't flicker. "That can easily be arranged."

Buffy cringed as the two men faced off for the second time that day, and couldn't help recalling a foolish idea she had once about tossing them into a (na (naked and treated generously with oil) and letting them duke it out once and for all. Unfortunately, now that Spike was human, the only thing that fun little scenario would accomplish was getting him violently dismembered.

How could she possibly keep these two from beating the crap out of each other while they figured out what was happening, and what was coming next?

"Aw, now, Peaches... is that any way to treat an honored guest?" the blond asked with a nasty smirk. "Especially since we've got so much more in common now than before."

It was impossible to miss his pointed look at her. Buffy grimaced, ready to head off the inevitable explosion. Angel didn't let her down.

"I used `guest’ in its loosest possible definition. And I sure as Hell *never* said you were honored," he snarled. "As for what we have in common, it remains at less than *nothing*."

He moved toward Spike, and Buffy took her cue, stepping in front of Angel and holding him back as his growl grew more menacing.

"Okay. Angel, maybe you should be somewhere that's else for a while until Spike gets settled in. And you take some time to find your marbles," she suggested. "It's not going to do anyone any good if one of you ends up dead."

"Care to wager on that?" Spike inquired. It was the first thing Angel had agreed with him on all day – because he would most assuredly feel better once he tore the man to bloody ribbons with his bare hands and danced a jig on the gory remains.

He took a deep breath and wrestled down the surging demonic instinct to kill -- horribly, painfully and slowly – and glanced at his watch. "I have a meeting with a client anyway." Without looking at Buffy, he turned and left.

She was right behind him as the elevator opened.

"We need to talk about this, Angel," she insisted gently.

He paused, but didn't turn around. "Fine. Talk."

"Not now. Not here. Can we meet tonight after patrol?"

Angel closed his eyes, willing himself to stay strong in the face of current events. "I'm busy tonight."

Buffy's heart wrenched in her chest. "Oh. Okay. Then... when?"

"There's really nothing to talk about, is there? You wanted me to help Spike, so I am. What else is there to say?"

"How about the fact that holding him prisoner while we wait to see what your bosses have in store for him is wrong?" she suggested. "How is he safe here alone?"

Angel turned slowly to look at her, his face blank. "There's enough security and magickal safeguards in this building to fend off all the hosts of Hell."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it. He shouldn't be by himself right now," she reiterated.

His gaze locked to hers. "Then stay with him, if you're so concerned."

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. "I can't be here all the time. I have to patrol tonight."

"That's fine," Angel replied as he turned back to the elevator, "I'm moving in to the other penthouse. I was serious when I told you I was going to keep an eye on him'll 'll be working from here until this is finished."

He gave her one last, hard look as the elevator doors closed. "Watch your back, Buffy."

When he was gone, she kicked the elevator doors with a ferocious grunt, just for the some tiny sense of satisfaction, before she returned to the apartment.

~

"I can't believe you're as surprised au aru are, Buffy," Xander told her when she called the school to let them know she wouldn't be able to take her classes that afternoon. He and Andrew had just returned from a black market artifacts scavenging mission in Hong King, where they had spent what little capital they'd gathered retrieving Watchers' Council documents. "He wanted to kill me once -–okay, more than once, but – that one time just for *dancing* with you. Imagine how he feels about Spike."

Buffy sighed as she dipped her aching feet into the pool. Spike was busy with the nurse inside -– whom she noticed was tall, gorgeous and obscenely big-breasted –having physical therapy or plasma treatments or something. "I get it. I do. But... shouldn't we be putting away that personal stuff? At least until we figure out what all this means?"

Xander laughed. "Oh, grasshopper. Your understanding of maleness remains so sadly stunted. Testosterone is the great brain-melter, Buff. You're not gonna get any logic out of those two anytime in the next millennium. Look. Maybe it would be better if a couple of us came over there to keep him company. That might at least ease off the jealousy factor. Theoretically."

"No..." Buffy went on woefully. "I should stay witm. Am. And besides, I don't think anything will help at this point. Angel's totally shut me out. I told him we should talk about this tonight, but he said he was `busy’. Which we both know is crap, because we've been busy *together* since this started."

"I'll say it again – he's being a guy. But he loves you. He'll get over it. And I really can't believe I'm defending Angel."

Buffy almost smiled, but the real deal wouldn't come. "Just keep researching. Giles still has all that stuff we found when Angel came back – maybe that will help. I'm going to try and get more from Spike."

Xander paused for a moment, letting all the possible meanings of her statement sink in before he responded, "Watch yourself, Buffy. Whatever brought him back, it can't be good."

"Why does everybody keep saying that? I can handle Spike and anything else that happens."

Her oldest friend wasn't so sure. Just because Buffy's instincts toward the ex-vampire had been right the last time didn't mean this wasn't a whole new ballgame. And considering how hard and how long she had been repressing her feelings about him, Xander doubted she could see the situation clearly at all.

For once, he was on Angel's side. A `Mark This Historic Date On Your Calendar’ sort ocasicasion.

"If you say so," he capitulated, "Keep us up to date."

He hung up and turned to face Giles, Wood and Willow, who sat behind him, worry marking their faces.

"It's worse than we thought," he reported. "Angel and Buffy have both gone loco-incommunicado."

Robin got up and began to pace. "Spike is trouble. Whatever species he is."

"Literally, in this case," Willow lamented. "The prophecy..."

Giles nodded. "We should never have allowed ourselves to become complacent after the vortex was closed. The scroll is clear – there are many cataclysmic events ahead that Buffy and Angel must face together. We simply assumed that once they broke past their own personal barriethe the rest would fall into place easily."

"'Ghosts of the past'", Wood quoted, "We should have known that was more than just a euphemism for their issues."

Xander leaned wearily against Buffy's desk. "Does anybody else find it ironic that we have to focus on fixing Buffy and Angel's *relationship* to keep the world safe?"

All three of his companions raised their hands.

"G a w a whole new meaning to `what the world needs now’, huh?" he sighed.

"What can we do?" Willow questioned. "I mean – there's the fact that thre fre falling apart, sure. But... what about the cataclysmic part? What's coming that they can't fight if they're not speaking? Shouldn't we be getting ready for that? It's not like all the weird phenomena just stopped when they got back together."

"That's true," Robin concurred, "They put a plug in one leak, but there are still other cracks in the dam."

"I only wish we knew more about the cause and purpose of Spike's resurrection," Giles put in. "His arrival certainly can't be a coincidence. Is this one of the apocalyptic events itself? An accidental result of the weakening veils between dimensions? A distraction for Angel and Buffy so they won't be prepared for what's next?"

"Well..." Willow proffered, "I don't know for sure this will work, but we could do a Walvan's Litmus spell on him. That would give us an idea of what kind of energies are around him. If somebody used dark magicks to bring him back, we'd at least know that much. And a truth spell to make sure he tells us everything he knows – and anything he might not, consciously."

"I don't think Buffy'll go for that. She's sort of declared herself Spike's Human Rights Commission representative," Xander informed them.

"She has no choice in the matter," Giles stated shortly, "It's time that she takes a hard look at the probability that her stance on Spike may not be the healthiest one -- for herself or the world. Willow, please get to work on researching that spell. I'm going to call and consult with Wesley. Robin, would you be so kind as to take my history class?"

The principal nodded. "Of course."

"Maybe I should head over there and make sure everything stays murder-free," Xander offered, "There's nothing falling apart around here that won't still be falling apart tomorrow."

"Take Faith or one of the older girls with you, if you can," Giles recommended, "In case there's trouble."

"Done. I'll leave the cell on."

"And Xander..." Giles called after him. "If anything untoward happens..."

"I'll hit the Bat Signal," he promised, and headed off.

"We got a Bat Signal? Cool!" Andrew commented from his eavesdropping place behind the bookshelf.

~

Angel sat in the limousine outside the building for nearly an hour, trying to find the strength to go in and face what he had to do. He hadn't actually had a client meeting, of course, but only a desperate desire to be away from Buffy and Spike before he really lost it and made things worse than they already were. Instead, he'd spent the afternoon in archives reviewing Spike's file and the prophecies surrounding the Convergence.

He had attempted to put aside his raging emotions... deepdeep loathing and passionate jealousy. That effort only lasted about fifteen minutes, but at least he'd been successful. And the past few hours of reading, thinking and talking to Cordy for the second time that week finally brought him to a place where he thought he understood why it was so difficult.

His envy of Spike went far beyond simple jealousy of his former relationship with Buffy. And his fear stemmed from a place deeper than the possibility that Spike had been resurrected for evil purposes. It hit him when he was re-reading the passages of the prophecy he had been so sure meant he and Buffy needed to get back together – the one they'd come to call the Eternal Flame scroll. The passages about their bond, their identities... the ghosts of the past...

Each one could just as easily be referring to Spike as himself. After all, Angel's reunion with Buffy hadn't stopped the chaos of the Confluence entirely. In fact, the past week, the time anomalies, magickal accidents and unidentified demons had steadily been growing worse again. And the vortex – he and Buffy had just assumed it was their kiss that had stopped it. But what if that phenomenon had only been a sign... the first indication of something opening the portal to bring the real Great Warrior back? Spike had fought by Buffy's side longer than Angel had. There was definitely a bond between them... a bond of blood and tears that all soldiers who faced war together formed. And fire? Well... from what little he knew about their physical relationship, there was definitely heat involved.

Realizing all that spun his mind in another, even less pleasant, direction. Spike had, by virtue of wearing the amulet meant for Angel, saved humanity. Died in the service of good. Made the ultimate sacrifice.

And now he was human. It was too perfect to be a coincidence.

((When the vampire with a soul fulfills his destiny, he will Shanshu...))

It was that last which finally broke him. Even when he had consciously set aside any hope of reward, of some cosmic end zone where he could lay down his arms and rest at last... the possibility of it stilmainmained, buried deep in the recesses of his battered heart.

Someday, he might be mortal again. Have another chance to live the kind of life he'd always dreamed of. A home, a family... Buffy as his wife, by his side for a finite span of precious human years.

All those prospects, in a single instant, had ceased to be his and become Spike's. Not only had the ex-vampire won a place in Buffy's heart with his unshakable loyalty – he could now give her the future she'd stopped believing she wanted. That she'd given up to be with him.

It wasn't a matter of giving her time to decide between the two men she cared about. It was a matter of him realizing the truth, and giving her the freedom to do the same. Angel was, yet again, standing in the way of Buffy's happiness.

All that was left for him now was to step back and remove that barrier.

Angel swallowed the bitter agony of his revelation, pushed it down into the place where all the billions of others lay, and got out of the car.

If he was right, this had to be done now, before the next disaster hit.

~