Spike allowed the slayer a few moments of tearful commiseration over the ravaged form of her friend before he felt compelled to interrupt. Over the rank odors of garbage, spunk, and blood, one signature raised the fine hairs on the back of his neck.

Angel.

The scent was fading, but that was no reason to think that the broody, bog-trotting bastard wouldn’t double back to finish the job he’d started. It had been a favorite ploy of Angelus’—lull the victim into a false sense of relief, thinking they’d had a narrow escape, then suddenly swoop in and rip their throat out.

As badly as he wanted a confrontation with Angel, this malodorous alley wasn’t the place for it. They needed to get this girl out of here before someone from inside the club stumbled onto them.

He squatted down beside them, his demon raging and clawing at him from the mixture of fear and blood that wafted from the brunette. She flinched away from him and clutched desperately at Buffy, her body vibrating with shivers and her breathing labored.

The Slayer was badly shaken. She had taken off her jacket and was struggling to wrap the too-small garment around the girl’s bare shoulders. With a grimace, he dragged off his own coat and held it out. It would take days to get the smell out of it, but now wasn’t the time for delicate sensibilities. The girl was desecrated and in desperate need of medical attention.

Accepting the leather with a grateful look, Buffy murmured soothingly as she enveloped Cordelia’s broken form in its folds. She stroked the thick, tangled mane of hair back from her face and forced the girl to meet her eyes. "It’s okay, Cordy. Come on, let us help you. Let’s get you to the hospital."

"N-no. N-n-not h-hos-hospital. H-home," Cordelia jabbered disjointedly. Her fingers clenched handfuls of Buffy’s shirt in desperation, smearing it with blood. "H-home. I-in-invite. C-can’t g-get in."

Buffy’s eyes flew up to meet his at the word ‘invite’.

"P-purse. K-k-keys. My c-c-c-c-car!" She fought to get the words out, to make them understand.

"Okay, shh. We’ll find them."

Spike was already searching through the refuse that littered the alley. He was back in seconds with a tiny clutch purse, the keys in his hand. Buffy couldn’t help but notice how his eyes were constantly scanning the area, nostrils flared.

"Spike?"

"Need to get out of here, Slayer. Now," was his low-pitched reply.

Buffy nodded, easing Cordy’s shivering form from her arms and tucking Spike’s coat around her. "I saw her car out front. Do you…?"

He shook his head adamantly and tossed her the keys. "No. You go. Just hurry, yeah?"

She was up and running as fast as her feet would carry her towards the front of the club.

If Buffy had taken the time to look back she would have seen Spike move quickly to take her place at Cordy’s side. Feet planted firmly on either side of her body, blue eyes narrowed as he stared at the end of the alley.

"Hello, Liam."

He didn’t have to wait long.

"Well, well. Looks like our boy has found another wounded dove to protect. What d’you think, Will? Think this one will turn out to be as dotty as Dru was?"

Angel stepped from the shadows, a cruel smile curling his lips as his gaze lingered on the battered figure at Spike’s feet. "Gotta admit, fucking this one was a lot more fun, even without having Darla here to join in. Oh, by the way…" He paused dramatically, then snickered. "How was Hell?"

"Why ruin the surprise? You’ll find out soon enough," Spike countered in a deceptively calm voice, his protective stance over the girl unwavering, poised to leap if the other vampire made a move.

"What makes you so sure about that?"

Spike tilted his head and widened his eyes in mock-disbelief. "Girl’s not stupid, Peaches. She knows it was you that did this. You honestly think the Slayer’s gonna let this go? Look what happened the last time you fucked with her friends. She was all set to send you to Hell."

"Yeah." Angel laughed again, the sound echoing eerily around the alley and causing the girl at Spike’s feet to cringe and wrap a hand around his ankle. "Until you got in the way. Thanks for that, buddy. I’d thank Dru as well, but unfortunately…" His sigh of regret was anything but. "She’s a little dusty."

It took a massive effort to ignore his grandsire’s attempt to get him riled, but Spike managed to smirk and get in a dig of his own. "Think nothin’ of it, mate. The ‘welcome home’ I got from the Slayer more than made up for my suffering." And just to drive his point home, he reached down and gave his semi-erect cock an unashamed fondle.

Angel’s eyes glowed yellow as his demon surged forth. He roared and gathered himself to spring when a little red car with ‘Queen C’ vanity plates screeched around the corner and came to a stop just inches from his legs.

Buffy was out of the car and snap kicking him in the face before he even had time to shake off his bumpies. She followed through with a roundhouse that cracked across his jaw so hard it threw him into the wall.

"Spike." She wasn’t even short of breath as she settled back into a defensive stance and waited for Angel to regain his senses. "Help Cordy into the car, please."

Her tone was pure slayer and Spike found himself moving to obey her without question. There would be time later to suss out why his demon wasn’t outraged at being ordered about by a little slip of a girl, even if she had said ‘please’.

Once the other girl was safely inside the vehicle, he returned to Buffy’s side just in time to hear her low-voiced threat to her former lover.

"I warned you, Angel. I told you to stay away from my friends, didn’t I?" she spat.

Angel staggered to his feet, swiping angrily at the blood that flowed from his nose and the cut she had laid open across his cheekbone. "Can I help it if she asked for it? The bitch has been hot for me from day one, Buff, and you know it."

Buffy looked at him with revulsion. "No one ‘asks’ for something like this, Angel. The only thing stopping me from staking you right now is the fact that I know Cordelia will take great pleasure in doing it herself. And don’t think I won’t hold you down while she does it, soul be damned."

Grabbing Spike’s arm, she pushed him towards the drivers’ seat. "Let’s go. If I have to look at him another second, I’m gonna forget my promise to that smelly little bastard."

"Oh, c’mon, Buff—" He made the mistake of reaching for her arm and fell back, howling in agony from the force of her outraged blow to his face. She stood over him, her tiny body shaking with rage.

"You sicken me," she snarled, then drew her foot back to deliver a kick that would have crushed his ribs had Spike not snagged hold of her.

"Not the time, luv," he admonished her as he dragged her, spitting and cursing back to the car and stuffed her inside. Angel was still writhing in pain on the ground when Spike threw the car into gear and whipped around him, a slight smile curling his lips as the car bounced over the other vampire’s legs and his screams of agony echoed down the alley.

The trip to Cordelia’s house was made in tense silence. Buffy made one call on Cordelia’s cell phone, speaking tersely to the girl’s boyfriend and avoiding his frantic queries as she ordered him to get to her house as fast as he could.

Spike knew there was a lot more going on here than Buffy was letting on, and it was something big if her oblique comment to Angel about a smelly little man was any indication. He decided to let it go for now, though. She was wound pretty tight at the moment and the last thing he wanted to do was add to her turmoil. He’d wait until their current situation was settled before he broached the subject.

It was quite a job getting Cordelia into her house. Buffy had to rouse her in order for her to invite Spike inside, and there was a bit of a tussle until she was able to convince the frantic girl that it was okay to grant him access. Once that was accomplished and Spike had helped carry her upstairs to her room, Buffy sent him off to make sure the house was secured while she took care of getting Cordy cleaned up.

"Her parents?" Spike asked cautiously.

"Gone. Always gone," Cordelia muttered, unaware of the constant flow of tears that streaked her grimy face. "Is Xander here yet?"

"He’ll be here soon, Cordy," Buffy promised, urging her towards the opulent bathroom. "Let’s get you clean, okay? Then you can lie down and rest until he gets here."

Spike left the Slayer to deal with the sobbing girl and went to deal with locking all the windows and doors.

~*~*~

"I couldn’t convince her that she’d be better off in bed," Buffy whispered as they watched the stubborn Miss Chase curl up on the sofa under a thick afghan. "He…" She swallowed hard, sickened by the damage inflicted on the other girl. Cordelia’s neck and breasts weren’t just littered with bites; she looked like she’d been mauled by a rabid dog. "God, what he did to her. She’s lost an awful lot of blood. Maybe we should have taken her to the hospital," she worried aloud.

"Cut her some slack, pet." He rested his hand on her shoulders and massaged the tense muscles. "’Sides, what would you tell the doctors? No sense in reporting a crime when it can’t be dealt with by normal legal means. And anyway…" He paused, resting his lips on her hair for a moment before he continued in a voice low and for her ears only. "We have our own brand of justice, don’t we?"

Buffy sighed and let her head fall back against his chest while his fingers worked their magic. "You’re right. They can’t prosecute someone who technically doesn’t exist. It was pretty dense of me not to realize that, I guess."

She covered his hands with hers and squeezed before turning to face him with a guarded expression. "I hate to ask you to do this, but I haven’t told anyone about you…being back. Haven’t had time, really. If Xander sees you he’s gonna wig big time, and I’d kinda like to deal with one major issue at a time, here," she explained apologetically.

His demon grumbled at the thought of leaving her side, but Spike could more than see her point. If the boy was even half as infuriating as Angelus had ranted about last spring, it might be best to put some distance between them so that Spike wouldn’t tear his throat out at the least hint of disrespect towards his Slayer. "Won’t go far in case you need me. I’ll just step out on the patio and have a smoke while you fill the boy in."

Her relief was palpable and she smiled as he lifted the hand he held and pressed a brief kiss to the back of it. "Thank you."

"Not a problem, sweet." And surprisingly enough, it wasn’t.

Spike had scarcely disappeared through the opened French doors when there was a frantic pounding at the front entrance. Before Buffy could move to open it, Xander burst through. His wild brown eyes fell on Cordelia, who promptly burst into tears once more and held her arms out to him beseechingly. He ran to her side and snatched her up in a bone-crushing hug, unmindful of her weak and bruised body.

"Cordy…my God, what happened to you?"

Cordelia suffered his tight hug for a moment before she tore herself from his arms with a cry of despair. He wouldn’t understand. There was no way Xander would accept what had happened to her. She buried her ravaged face in her hands and sobbed.

"Honey…Cordy…what?" Imagining the worst—which in no way came anywhere near the truth—Xander only made things worse by trying to pry her hands from her face. When she only cried harder and began to slap his hands away from her, Buffy stepped in and pushed him away from the distressed girl.

"Xander, please just…calm down so I can tell you what happened. Sit down and be quiet so I only have to say this once."

When he seemed to have a little more control of himself, Buffy took a deep breath and launched into the tale of how she had been patrolling and come upon Cordelia in the alley behind the Bronze. Xander squirmed visibly at the mention of his girlfriend’s whereabouts, and Buffy knew then that he had blown Cordelia off to meet with Willow. Major guilt factor, there, she thought.

Cordelia seemed to sense his discomfort as well and lifted wet brown eyes to meet his. "Waited. Waited for you, but you weren’t there. You weren’t there, and he was…and I…he…" She paused, squeezing her eyes shut as she drew on some inner well of strength. In a voice that quivered with fear and loathing, she told them of the subsequent confrontation with Angel.

Silence reigned when the last words died away. Buffy was struggling with her own guilt, now. It was her first time hearing all the gory details, too, and she couldn’t help the shudder that ripped through her. She should have known that simply warning Angel away from her friends wouldn’t be enough. No, he wasn’t Angelus, but she had been cautioned that Liam could be just as bad.

Buffy’s cautious gaze rested on Xander. She hadn’t failed to notice that since his initial concern when bursting through the door, Xander had kept his distance from his broken and battered girlfriend. In fact, with each sordid detail that she’d revealed about her abuse at the hands of the dark haired vampire, he’d moved further and further from her side. He was on his feet and pacing now, his mouth a thin slash of anger as he glared at her with narrowed eyes. "So, Angelus did this? That demon scum beat and raped my girlfriend, and he’s still running around out there somewhere?"

Both girls jumped in stunned surprise when Xander suddenly sprang forward and stabbed an accusing finger at the Slayer. "You! This is your fault," he spat. "Didn’t you learn from the last time what happens when you bump uglies with the evil undead? No? No, of course not! You had to be stupid enough to boink him again and…" His face twisted with revulsion as he continued to rant. "This…this is just great, Buffy. Once again, Angel goes all Angelus, only this time he goes after my girl instead of Giles’. I guess I should be happy he didn’t snap Cordelia’s neck like he did Miss Calendar’s, huh?"

By the time he reached the end of his tirade, Xander was inches from her shocked face. His hands were fisted at his sides and he looked to be just seconds from grabbing her and shaking her senseless. Despite the certainty that she could take Xander down if she had to, Buffy couldn’t help the flicker of fear she felt at his proximity.

That feeling of unease was immediately swept away by a sudden burst of irrational rage that left her gasping. Without warning, a blur of blonde and black swept past her with a ripping snarl and pinned Xander to the wall by his throat, his feet kicking ineffectually several feet from the expensive Oriental carpet.

"No, Spike, don’t!"