Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.

SECTION 4 - ANGELS AND DEMONS

Why do you choose to live this way
I can dig those games you play
Angels and demons and screaming saints
You're all normal and they're insane
They stand alone in the fallout rain
You're all hung up on little pains
Yea Yea (everyone's hung up)


(The Tourists)




Chapter 4.02
Wednesday, June 12th, 2002


"Tara, pet, why don't you go and stick the kettle on? I'll look after our guest once I get this mangy mutt to shut up," Spike suggested. His voice hardened as he tried to discipline the dog. "Rogue! Here!" He pointed at a spot beside his legs. The mongrel was far too obsessed with protecting her owners to actually pay attention to any of them, however, and Spike was forced to sidle along the edge of the parallelogram of sunlight that shone through the open doorway until he could reach out to snatch Rogue's collar and pull her into the shade, his hand smoking slightly in the process.

Finally, he had the dog's attention. "Shut up, ya dozy bitch!" he told her, the command far more softly spoken than the words might suggest. As he spoke he reached around from behind her and pulled her chin slowly upwards until she was forced not only to be silent but to look at him. "Shhh. Doesn't matter how big you grow you ain't gonna be top dog when there's a werewolf around."

Oz had waited patiently on the doorstep while Spike had ushered Tara away and calmed the canine. Now, he took his chance to move into the doorway where he could actually see the vampire.

"Spike," he greeted him with a totally neutral equanimity and the slightest nod of his head.

The blond returned the nod and gestured toward the living room. "You're probably gonna want to grab yourself a seat."

Oz hesitated. "Buffy?" The redhead's eyes wandered as if to see if the slayer were about to emerge from one of the other rooms. "She sent me an email about Willow..."

Spike's suspicions hardened that bit nearer to being fact.

"She's out, but I dare say if I give her a bell she'll head back. How long ago was it that you got this email?"

"About a week ago..." Spike breathed a sigh of relief until the younger man continued. "I mean she sent it maybe three weeks ago, give or take, but I didn't get it until last week. I wrote back and told her I'd head down as soon as I could get someone to cover for me."

"She probably hasn't been near the computer in a fortnight. So I'm guessing she told you Red was in a mess..."

"Look, am I missing something here? The look that girl gave me was more than just running into your ex's ex and this is starting to feel like twenty questions, so why don't you tell me what's going on?"

"Okay, if that's how you want it." Spike made his way into the living room with Rogue following at his heels and lifted a folded newspaper clipping from underneath one of the ornaments on the mantelpiece, passing it to the younger man. He watched Oz's face as his eyes scanned the article, Oz's knees suddenly weak enough to make him finally take the seat he had been offered minutes before.

"Of course, the gas leak wasn't really a gas leak. The simple version is that she made herself go boom, tryin' to exorcise some Big Bad out of Cordelia, but it's really a mite more complicated." Spike partially eschewed his normal penchant for nicknames for the sake of clarity.

"She's dead? No one told me."

"Reckon Buffy was the only one as knew how to get a hold of you. She never mentioned that she'd got in touch an' she hasn't exactly been herself since it happened... I'll ring her. She'll want to see you." Spike headed through to the kitchen to get the handset for the cordless, keeping an eye on Oz from a distance while he made the call so that the other man had a few minutes to let the news sink in.

"The Magic Box, Anya speaking. How may we help you?"

"You can tell Buffy that Red's wolf boy just showed up an' he might appreciate havin' someone around as he has actually been formally introduced to an' as isn't the love of his ex's life."

"Oz is there? As in at Buffy's house?"

"Turns out Buff called in the reinforcements to help with Crone Willow, but forgot to let him know about Dead Willow. Just ask her to get that pretty arse of hers back here pronto. I'm not sure how long we've got before he rabbits and however calm he looks, he shouldn't be driving when he's just had that sort of news 'bout someone he cares enough to pack up his life for."

Tara brushed past Spike, a cup in either hand, giving him a quiet smile as she passed. She set one of the mugs down on the coffee table in front of the sofa where Oz was sitting, and took the other with her as she sat in one of the armchairs. "Camomile tea," she informed the lycanthrope when she saw him sniffing the air. "It's supposed to be good for shock."

---

Spike melted away into the background, slipping out into the dubious shade of the back porch as soon as Buffy arrived. As he had pointed out to Anya, somehow, with the exception of the lycanthrope's part in thwarting Spike's plans for the Gem of Amarra, he and Oz had crossed paths only once, when the vampire had helped to rescue the lycanthrope from the Initiative. The fact that it had been part of Adam's scheme to get the Scoobies to trust him so that he could then lure them into the middle of a massacre did sort of mitigate any claim to heroism on his part, though. To all intents and purposes the two men were strangers and Spike was diplomatic enough to butt out as soon as those closer to Oz arrived. Buffy didn't need to be trying to cope with her problems with him on top of the situation with the werewolf.

He hadn't been there for long when Tara joined him, taking a seat on the step while he was forced to sit slightly further back.

"There's a definite old school vibe in there."

"To be expected, love."

"Did you know that she had asked him to come?"

Spike shrugged. "Buffy's pretty much a power unto herself, when she isn't beating said self to crap about stuff beyond her control. I'm guessing she didn't want to say anything until she heard he was coming."

"Do you think he would have been able to help?" Tara half turned when she felt Spike's eyes on her.

"You mean, do I think she loved him enough to change for him when she couldn't do it for you? No, no an' a thousand times no, but maybe seein' through his eyes how different she'd become from the girl he used to know might have helped. I guess we'll never find out now."

---

"I'm so sorry, Oz. I just wasn't thinking at all." Buffy took the seat next to Oz, but somehow even she didn't feel comfortable enough to hug the self-possessed young man. For all his sociability, Oz had always seemed a very private individual and any public displays of affection had always been solely for the girl they now mourned.

Oz's lip curled down at the corners marginally less than before. "Buffy, don't worry about it. It's hardly email material. 'I'm getting married to Spike and we'd like you to come,' that's the sort of thing you put in an email, not 'Willow's dead' ."

"I should have... When I died she took the bus to LA to tell Angel. I should have..."

Giles interrupted Buffy's recriminations. "I don't think you can take all the responsibility solely upon yourself. We were all equally remiss. Even if we didn't realise that you had managed to track Oz down more directly, we should have tried contacting his parents to make sure they were aware of the news and would be able to pass it on."

"Not to rain on the parade of blame, but mom and dad moved to New York not long after I started at Sunnydale U, so I doubt you would have had much luck. It doesn't matter anyway. Things happened the way they did. It's of the past." The redhead looked around the room, obviously uncomfortable with so much personal attention.

He sat his empty mug back down on the coffee table and as he spoke he rose to his feet. "Look, I should head across to Devon's place and check if he'll let me crash there. I guess I need to think this through and work some stuff out."

"You've had a bit of a shock. Perhaps it might be better if you left your van here and I drove you over," Giles offered and only about an eighth of the reason for his graciousness was so that he could show off his shiny new 4 x 4.

For a fraction of a second, Oz looked as if he might refuse, but of all the early Scoobies he had always been the most level-headed. "Sure. I'll go sort out what I need from the van. Anya, tell Xander I said hi, just in case I don't get around to seeing him."

Buffy struggled to find words to say goodbye. "Ehm, if you don't end up making plans with Devon you're welcome to come over for dinner tonight. Xander and Anya will be coming anyway and there's always a sofa to crash on if things don't work out with Devon."

"Thanks, Buffy, but I guess I need some alone time. I'll probably just dump my things and then go for a walk or something."

There was a feeling that the slayer understood. "Sure, but if you happen to find yourself in the area and you're hungry, feel free to drop in."

Oz simply gave an almost imperceptible nod and headed for the door, Giles following behind him.

"Anya, I'll take you back to the shop once I drop off Oz. Buffy, might I suggest that you consider your training completed for the day and concentrate on other matters?" Giles' look made it plain that his question to the slayer was of the purely rhetorical variety.