I decided to write a story about a rogue Slayer in the L.A. area who's shacking up with a vampire Spike sired back in December. Andrew's appearance inspired me to write about Buffy's neo-Council. This story is set between Cordelia's death and Fred's death. Aside from Angel and his friends, it branches out to feature the Scoobies, Drusilla, and two other female vampires from Spike's past who are of my own invention.

"Then we're agreed," Angel announces with a sigh of relief as he looks at the purple demons to his left and the green demons to his right. "You'll stop eating his clan's babies. And, in exchange, he'll stop raping your clan's virgins." Both groups mumble and slap the conference table as a sign of assent. Angel stands up and shakes the slimy hands of the two leaders. The demons leave. Angel pulls a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and wipes off his right hand. He sits down at the end of the table, his back to the window, and puts his head on the table. Three hours. His entire morning. For this. He hears the doorknob twisting and promptly sits up. Gunn enters.

"I'll have a draft of the treaty on your desk by the end of the day."

"Why? You're the one who knows demon laws and customs. And you're the one the pay. Send the thing straight over to them. Or, to whichever courier it is who can teleport to their dimension."

"You mean Vicki. I'll be sure to find her." Gunn leaves. Angel gets up to leave the room himself, but is met at the door by Wesley.

"There you are. We need to talk."

"Can't we do that in my office?"

"Two Neiblingstat are already in there."

"My 12:15? I told Harmony to keep them in the lobby."

"The Neiblingstat is an extraordinarily punctual race. If they're kept waiting, they usually retaliate by devouring passers-by. In this case, your employees."

"Then I better get over there." Wesley holds him back.

"While they may be punctual, they're also terribly absent-minded. So long as they are in the right place at the right time, they are content. Even if the person they are there to see isn't around."

"What is it you wanted me to keep them waiting for?"

"Since you took the helm at Wolfram & Hart, large numbers of vampires have fled Los Angeles."

"The fruits of our Zero Tolerance policy."

"Have you wondered at all where they went to?"

"No. There isn't any evidence of increased vampire killings in the suburbs, if that's what you're implying."

"It's not. I'm implying that the vampires are adapting. Becoming more sophisticated."

"Meaning what, exactly?"

"Meaning that it appears some vampires have found a way to cooperate with groups of humans."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"It is if the humans are criminals, and if the vampires continue to be evil."

"What are you basing this theory of yours on?"

"I've been contacted by several law enforcement officials from Orange County, and all of their stories match. The vampires are based in the town of Laguna Hills, about forty miles south of here. They operate in tandem with a small gang of teenagers. The humans allow the vampires to sleep in their homes, and often travel with them, offering a measure of protection against surprise attack."

"Human shields. Stupid kids."

"The vampires, in turn, alert the youths about approaching cop cars and help muscle around and intimidate their enemies."

"By killing them?"

"No. They just give them a good thrashing. The vampires are very careful about maintaining a low profile. And even more careful about avoiding people who could do them harm. The demon fighters simply can't come to grips with them."

"And that's it? Sounds a little minor league for us."

"I know it does. But I believe that through further investigation, we might discover - "

"I didn't say I wasn't going to do it. Naive, wayward kids allowing themselves to me used by monsters. It's only a matter of time before they end up dead. Or sired. I'll be down there tonight."

"Excellent. I'll prepare a dossier detailing sightings and possible meeting points."

"To tell you the truth, I've been looking forward to saving a few souls face-to-face for a change."

"One more thing. I think you should take Spike along."

"You're the last person I'd expect to hear that from. Since when did you become a Spike booster?"

"He has a way of finding these things out. It won't be long before he heads down there on his own and gets into a mess that we'll need to clean up. Better to keep him on a tight leash. Also, when Spike's with you, he's not getting befriended by people who want to do you harm."

"You make it sound like he's some child."

"I prefer to think of him as a ward of the firm. By the way, you're 12:15 is still waiting."

Angel rushes over to his office. But during all his meetings on this busy afternoon, his mind keeps wandering to this new mission. Shortly after sundown, he goes to Spike's apartment. The door's unlocked, so he enters. Spike sits on the couch, playing Frogger. "Spike, we got something important to do."

"Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?" Angel pulls the plug out of the wall. An enraged Spike leaps to his feet. "You bloody idiot! I was two jumps away from finishing level twelve!" Spike lunges at Angel, who pushes him back down onto the couch.

"Glad to know you have the priorities of a champion."

"It's a little early. Or have you forgotten when the beasties come out cuz you're stuck up in that ivory tower?"

"We're going on a little trip."

"You mean a little trick, don't you, mate? I'm not walking into some desert ambush."

"Fine. I'll go be the hero on my own. You can stay here and miss out on all the fun."

"Reverse psychology. Like that's gonna work on me." Angel starts walking out. Spike gets up and follows. "You expect me to sit back and let you hog all the glory for yourself? How thick do you think I am?"

Angel explains the situation as he drives down 405-South. In about an hour, they're in Laguna Hills, heading east on El Toro Drive. "Should've let me take the wheel," Spike complains. "You drive like an old lady."

"We're looking for vampires."

"Not on the highway we weren't."

"Shut up and keep an eye out."

"So, Mister Thinks-He's-the-Leader, what's the grand plan?"

"We find the vampires. But we don't kill. Not right away."

"Wut if they're attacking some helpless innocent? They do have quite a knack for that."

"Then of course we kill them. But what we want most is to follow one of them to their lair."

"Wait for the big score. Makes sense. In a simple, best of all possible worlds sort of way. But what if their human friends get in the way? Got anything in the offing besides a stern lecture?"

"I'll handle the youngsters."

"Youngsters. Listen to yourself. Yeah, you'll really connect with the kiddies. Like Pat Boone opening for Eminem."

"Shut up."

"That's real mature of you."

"Quiet." They're sitting at a red light. Angel rolls down his window. Spike does likewise. "You hear that?"

"The new Rancid record someone's listening to a few cars back? It's not bad."

"No Spike. The trunk of the car right in front of us. Someone's banging on the top."

"Hardly qualifies as an emergency. People can survive for hours locked inside a trunk. Knew a guy who lasted a day-and-a-half. I had completely forgotten about him."

"You're not actually suggesting that we let them get away?"

"If you want me to jump out, grab the driver and beat him until he frees the poor bloke, fine. Perfect. The light's green. There goes that idea. If, on the other hand, you want to follow him to God knows where, I'm getting out. We're didn't come all this way to save some mobster who double-crossed his boss."

"We don't know who's in there."

"And, while we're waiting to find out, how many people round here could get eaten by the vampires we were supposed to kill?" The car in front of them takes a right and heads south on Avenida Majorca. Angel follows. "Just perfect! Now we're heading away from the bloody town."

"I can't turn my back on something like this when it's right in front of me. I'm surprised you can. No. I'm really not." After a mile, the car makes a left and heads east on Los Alisos Boulevard. They pass under Interstate Five and approach the border between Laguna Hills and El Toro. On their left is El Toro Park. Without warning, the car's rear and front right tires go flat. It starts swerving and slows down. Angel slams on the brakes to keep from rear-ending the vehicle he's tailing.

"TIre blows out. How's that for a lucky break?," Spike asks Angel. The wounded car pulls over. Angel does likewise. He and Spike get out. The four men who were in the car look over the damage. Naturally, they are very angry. One of them points at Spike.

"You did this!"

"Bollocks. I'm not even the one who wanted to tail you."

"Spike, you idiot."

"Oh, cum on! We're going to have to fight them anyway." Standing on the sidewalk, Spike looks at the four men. "Who wants to go first?" They all go bumpy. "Bugger. Should've see that coming." Spike glances at the right rear tire. "Is that a dart?" One of the vampires grabs Spike's shirt and leans in to bite him. Spike head-butts this guy in the nose and knocks him down with a right hook to the face and a left uppercut to the chin. "And I thought the vamps in LA were bloody stupid." Another vampire charges. Spike knocks him back with a right kick to the chest. Lacking a crowbar, Angel is busy trying to pry open the trunk with a wooden stake. Spike looks to his left. "Can you save that for later, Angel? I think I found our vampires. Fine. More glory for me." Two of the vampires look to their left, peering over the hedges into someone's front yard. Spike finds this insulting. "Over here. Remember me, the bloke who's about to dust you?" A third vampire looks to his right at Angel. When Spike tries to take advantage of their confusion and charges in, stake in his right hand, the forth vampire grabs his right wrist and throws Spike to the ground. When he gets up, Angel's opening the trunk. A teenage boy and girl are inside, bound and gagged. Not quite sure which threat to concentrate on, the four vampires run across the street and flee north through the park. Spike crosses the road, but stops to look back at Angel, who's unbinding the victims' arms and legs and removing the gags. "It's a little early to take your victory lap with the damsels. They're getting away!" Angel runs north and joins Spike in pursuit. But they've lost valuable seconds.

While our heroes were busy confronting the vampires, a boy and a girl who had been hiding behind the hedges snuck east, then crossed the boulevard one hundred yards behind Angel and Spike. When the vampires reach the back of the two hundred yard-wide park, they find the young man standing there, waiting for them, his arms folded across his chest. He's an inch shorter than Spike, about as skinny, with a dimpled chin, soft brown eyes, and slicked-back black hair. He wears blue jeans, a black Smashing Pumpkins t-shirt, and a red plaid flannel shirt. Though younger and smaller than any of the vampires, his presence stops them in their tracks. "You know I don't allow killing on my turf. But you figure you can get away with hunting here, since you're driving the prey away and doing the killing somewhere else. Very clever."

"Bring in a little outside help?," one of them asks.

"I don't need any."

"Then what the hell just happened back there?"

"Couple vigilantes who were in over their heads," the young man says with a gleeful smirk. "You escaped from them. But not from me."

"Good. Cause we've been looking forward to getting you alone." The young man goes bumpy. The four vampires charge him. He flees to the north and then heads west, dashing through people's yards and hurdling over fences. The little chat allowed Angel and Spike to catch up. When the young man left the park, they were within fifty yards of the vampires who were chasing him. After covering four blocks and more than a quarter mile, the man makes it to Rockfield Boulevard. He sprints across the street into the parking lot in front of a 7-11. The vampires had caught up. He turns, smiles and raises his hands in mock surrender. One of the vampires shoves his back into the store's wall. The guy just laughs.

"Those vigilantes sure are stubborn." The vampires turn and see Angel and Spike crossing the street. The guy pushes back the vampire who was holding him. The vampires look frantically for a way out. They were prepared for fighting one vampire. But not three. Especially not if two of them are Angel and Spike. They assume the kid vampire is in league with the two ensouled vamps. One of the trapped vampires grabs a man who just left the store and is opening his car door. The young man goes unbumpy, rushes over and hits this vampire in the face with left and right hooks before throwing him to the ground. "Go away!," he tells the frightened man while pushing him into the car and slamming the door shut. Fearing for his life, he does as told. The young man turns, ducks a kick and sweeps out the vampire's legs. When the fourth vampire charges, he dodges the attack and throws the vampire behind him, sending his head into a the door of a parked car. Angel and Spike hang back at the sidewalk. They are mighty confused by the spectacle they are witnessing.

"Why is that vampire protecting people?," Angel asks.

"Maybe I've spawned imitators."

"You? Please. Besides, it's just a turf battle."

"Then where are his followers?"

"Probably lying in wait. He's led the enemy into a trap."

"He shot out their tires."

"I didn't hear any shots."

"With darts. I saw them in the sides of the tires. He must've been lying in wait behind the bushes. That's wut they were looking around for." The man runs to his left, outflanks his attackers and scales the left side wall of the convenience store. The four vampires follow him up onto the roof. Angel and Spike move forward, staying to the right of the store. The man hops on top of the air conditioning fan, putting him almost three feet above the others, who surround him on all sides.

"I'm sorry you can't hunt in LA. But that doesn't mean I can relax my rules. You should have taken your chances in the big city. Because, round here, poaching gets you a guaranteed death sentence. You might as well have gone to the beach today at high noon." A vampire leaps up at him. The man jumps in the air, does a back flip and lands in the alley behind the store. The four vampires jump down as well. One of them never makes it to the ground. He's dusted in mid-air by a crossbow bolt. Angel and Spike, crouching behind the chain-link fence that separates the store from the restaurant next door, are impressed with the marksmanship. They can tell it came from behind a dumpster at the other end of the alley. The sniper tosses an ax to the young man. He catches it as a vampire attacks, ducks a right hook and beheads the vampire.

"I don't bloody believe it," Spike says in disbelief.

"Come on. He's not that good." If Angel had glanced at Spike's face, he would realize that Spike knows this vampire. But he's too busy watching the action. The young man blocks a left hook kick and ducks a right roundhouse kick. He counters by landing a right hook kick to the ribs, a left punch to the face, and swings the ax upwards, smacking his opponent in the chin with the top end of the shaft. The vampire falls on his back. The young man brings the ax handle down and stakes the vampire with the sharpened bottom end of the shaft.

Meanwhile, the sniper emerges. She's a teenage girl, five feet six inches tall, with green eyes and long, curly, bouncy brown hair. She wears black boots, brown cargo pants and a red t-shirt. The crossbow is strapped across her back. She rushes confidently at the final vampire. Spike's and Angel's jaws drop. They quickly glance at one another. "This can't be what I think it is," Spike comments, expressing the thoughts of both men. When she gets within range, the vampire steps forward and throws a right hook. The girl stops on a dime and leans back out of the way. She lands a leaping straight left kick to the vampire's chin, then a right hook kick to his face, knocking the vampire down. She stands back and lets him get up. When he charges, she knocks him back a few steps with a quick left roundhouse kick to the chest. He leaps in the air and tries a flying right hook kick. She turns to her left, avoids the kick, grabs his right foot and sends him hurtling to the ground. Angel and Spike glance at each other again. She must be what they think she is. Which raises a number of questions, especially for Spike. At this point, the girl's vampire ally has staked the other vampire. The girl lands two left jabs, ducks a right hook and lands one of her own, knocking the vampire to his knees. When she goes in for the stake, he hits her in the face with the back of his right hand and gets up. She tries a left cross, but her grabs both her arms. She frees her arms, pushes him back, ducks a right cross and lands three left hooks to his face. She follows this up with a straight right kick to his chin. She pauses, catches her breath, knocks the vampire on his back with a right hook, then leans down and stakes him.

"Wonder where this is going," Angel says with a mixture of dread and curiosity. "Don't you, Spike? Spike? Earth to Spike." He's just staring straight ahead.

"You could have staked him when he was still standing," the young vampire tells the Slayer.

"And let him die on his feet? I like to win my fights by knockout."

"Of course my girl likes knockouts. She is one." They pull each other close and start making out in the sloppy, tongue-heavy way that's disgusting to behold. Especially for these two spectators. For them, this is the equivalent of a deadly car accident: stomach-churning to stare at, but impossible to turn away from. But they do take notice of the fact that they are not at all concealed behind the chain-link fence. They move to their right, turn left and circle round the back of the property. All the time staring at the slobbering couple. The maneuver has the downside of giving them an unwelcome opportunity to observe the face-sucking from multiple angles. After thirty second of lip-lock, the girl pulls away.

"Dev, I think someone's watching."

"I know Deb. Kind of a turn on."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Don't worry. They're behind that fence." He points to their original location, and sees nothing. Deb hears steps from behind, and turns Dev around. He chuckles at the sight of Angel and Spike. "There you are! Another minute and I was going to start charging you two for the privilege of living vicariously through me."

Deb and Dev walk towards their visitors. He's cocky and clearly savoring the moment. She's rather wide-eyed. Dev stands in front of Angel. Spike is to Angel's left, straight across from Deb. He stops ten feet away. She walks right up to them.

"Oh . . . my . . . God. Oh – my – God. Omigod. Oh my God!" She glances over her left shoulder at Dev. "Is this really them?"

"In the flesh, baby doll."

"Oh my God! What an honor! You came all this way for me?"

"No," Angel responds truthfully.

"Liar," she responds with a flirtatious smile.

"Believe me when I say I never saw you coming."

"Oh," she says with a disappointed pout. "Then you're here for Dev."

"Yes and no," Spike responds.

Deb walks back to her boyfriend and takes his right hand in her left. "We really need to do a better job getting our names out there, and letting people know about the great work we do."

"Something tells me these two will take care of that."

"You're right," Deb responds. "Like always." She smiles and gives him a quick kiss on his right cheek. Then Deb puts her arms around his chest and rests her chin on his right shoulder. She gazes up into his eyes, revelling in the chance to flaunt their relationship in front of such distinguished guests. "You think they're jealous of you?"

"Who?"

"Who do you think, silly?" The happy couple looks at Angel and Spike. Angel rolls his eyes. "Look! They're trying so hard to pretend they're not. Guess that means they really are." Deb slowly lets go of Dev and walks up to the visitors. "You are so old. Both of you." She points at Angel. "Especially you." This greatly upsets him. "No. I'm sorry. You don't look older." He's relieved. "You both look, like, I dunno thirty five."

"Like bloody hell I do!," Spike complains.

"Relax Spike. She's trying to bait us."

"Does botox not work on vampires? Don't get me wrong, you both look young. Just not young enough to be dating girls my age. I'm seventeen. The thought of being with you, it's just, ewww," she says while pointing at Angel. "You look old enough to be my father. Or, like, the father of one of my friends." She points at Spike. "You don't. Cause of the hair. It just screams committed bachelor.' Still, it makes you wonder about her," Deb says as she backs away. "I mean, my father's long gone, and I never even thought of using my boyfriends to work through my daddy issues. Makes me feel sorta sorry for her. And I've never felt sorry for anyone."

"Why?," Angel asks. "Too busy feeling sorry for yourself?"

Deb looks at Dev. "Was that less than five minutes?"

"Had to be."

"Okay. You win." She hands him a twenty dollar bill, then looks at Angel to explain. "We had a bet about how long it would take for you to try to save me. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate you're wanting to help and all. But I'm not some lost little girl zooming down the road to oblivion with no seat belt on."

"Of course you're not," Angel sarcastically responds. "So far, you've probably just done little things. A little breaking-and-entering here. A little vandalism there. Nothing that's really bad."

"And where are you getting this from? I don't have a record."

"My apologies. There isn't a law against harboring undead murderers."

"Are you blind, or just stupid?"

"The second one," Spike jokes.

"I slay undead murderers," Deb tells Angel.

"Not all of them," he responds.

"Did Buffy get all of them? Does anyone? I don't need a morals lecture."

"No Deb. I think he's trying to give you an ethics lesson," Dev says.

"What's the difference?"

"It allows him to show off how smart and well-read he is. I'm sure the Guilt Prince thinks Schopenhauer's got mad skills. That is if you're the deep sort, Angel. Otherwise you'd be into Sartre and Camus. But how deep can a philosophy be that can be summed up in a Rush song? But none of that really matters since you're not doing it to win the argument. You just want face time. Because, in your mind, no girl can resist your charms for very long. It's all about the brooding and the soulful long stares."

"You mean he just wants to hit on me?," Deb asks. Dev puts his arms around her, savoring the chance to flaunt his girl in front of Slayer-loving vampires. She rests her head against his chest. "So where do the chains and tranquilizers fit in?"

"He'll only use those if you're clinically insane. Which is his medical definition of a mental condition afflicting all women who are unable to fall in love with him." Spike laughs. He's getting a kick out of Dev ripping on Angel. Dev gives Spike a sinister grin. "You won't be laughing for long. With Angel, I'm just pulling stuff out of my ass. You and me, we have a history. The night is still young."

"But some of us have stuff to do," Deb says to Dev. He lets go, and she walks up to Angel, looking very serious. "Let's get one thing straight. This is a free country. I love my freedom. To me, losing my freedom's like losing my life. And if someone's trying to take away your life, you kill them. You got it?"

"I do. You're psychotic."

"Why? Because I love a vampire? Because I want nothing to do with any Council?"

"She's good," Spike mutters.

"Don't pretend to like me," Deb sternly says to Spike. "Don't pretend to be my friend. Because I know you want the same thing your boss does. At least he's up front about it."

"Now that's a slanderous, bloody lie. Angel is not my boss."

"Chill out, Robin. I just meant Bruce Wayne over here's in charge. I didn't mean to imply something's goin' down in the Batcave." And to think, a few seconds ago Spike liked this girl. "But enough jokes," she continues. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't need anyone to train me. I won't let some stranger take my life away. I won't be one of her drones. I have a will of my own, just like she does. So go tell Buffy that if she sends her New Model Slayer Army after me, they'll be hell to pay." Angel scoffs at this ludicrously empty threat. Deb walks back over to her boyfriend. He puts his arms around her waist. She runs her left hand down his chest and caresses his face with her right hand. "You sure it's safe to be all alone with them? We can't exactly trust these two."

"And they can't trust me. Don't worry, baby. I'll be safe." They kiss and she runs her right hand through his hair.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Angel says to Spike regarding these repeated ostentatious displays of affection. Fortunately, this kiss only lasts fifteen seconds. Deb walks off. Devlin smiles, hoping he's made his two visitors jealous of his good fortune.

"Didn't recognize you at first, on account of the new haircut," Spike says, making small talk.

"It's not new," Dev tells Spike pointedly, as if he should have known that.

NEXT: Devlin catches up with Spike, as has a few words for Angel as well. He also has some news about what Buffy's been up to.