by Ebony Silvers

Prologue

Oh! My love, my darling,
I hunger for your touch,
A long lonely time.
And time goes by, so slowly,
And time can do so much,
Are you still mine?
I need your love.
I need your love.
God speed your love to me.

Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea,
To the open arms of the sea.
Lonely rivers sigh, "Wait for me, wait for me,
I'll be coming home, wait for me."

~~~~~

New Orleans, Louisiana
Tuesday, 10:38 pm
May 12, 2001

René Beaumont stomped through the View Carré. He couldn't believe he'd let Louis talk him into this. Again. Why did he always, always, give into whatever his older brother wanted? It surely wasn't from affection. These days he mostly hated Louis. René snorted. These days he mostly hated himself. He couldn't in all fairness blame this all on Louis. He'd agreed to it, hadn't he? He was as angry with himself as he was at Louis. He'd let his manipulative brother suck him back into the family business. He'd managed to stay away for nearly three months, but the first time Louis really applied any pressure he'd caved. He hated that weakness. Hated that he was involved in the family business.

The family business, it sounded so innocuous. It didn't convey the broken lives, the deaths associated with that business. In general, René tried desperately not to consider that. He tried not to think of how many lives he'd helped ruin but tonight he couldn't seem to avoid it. That black girl who had died a few months back haunted him. She'd hated him, despised him for what he was. And rightly so. René hated what he was. What he had become. He knew she was right to despise him. What he had become was despicable. What had the girl called him? A two-bit hustling punk? She had no idea. She didn't know what he really was but René knew exactly what he'd become. He was a drug dealer, supplying the street hustlers with enough coke or crack or heroine or whatever the drug du jour to keep half of the Quarter stoned. He'd smuggled it, he'd sold it, he'd given it to users free to get them hooked so they'd buy it later. There wasn't a drug he hadn't dealt. And the drugs bothered him less than the prostitution. He was a pimp. He'd beaten the crap out of his hookers for not doing enough johns, for hiding money from him, for whining. He'd sold their bodies without the least consideration for what they might be feeling. No, that wasn't true. He'd cared. He'd felt for them. Because he knew what it felt like, because he'd sold his own body. He'd prostituted himself to any man with money enough to pay for the privilege. Because if he didn't Louis would beat the shit out of him. After the third beating, he'd just given up and let Louis sell him to whoever wanted to pay to fuck him.

Yes, René knew exactly what he was; he was a dealer, a pimp, and a whore. And he'd sworn he wouldn't do it anymore. He was finally big enough and strong enough to knock the crap out of Louis or at the very least give as good as he got. And he was brave enough to leave home and find his own way. So why was he headed for a back alley off Rue Barracks with a satchel of money to buy crack off a supplier? Why was he dealing again? How long before he was whoring again? He shivered. He couldn't stand that thought. René made a decision. He'd put a bullet in his head before he let another man fuck him. He'd die before he went through that again. Nothing was worth that pain and humiliation.

He took a deep breath. This really was the last time. He'd give Louis his damned drugs and leave town. He'd always resisted the thought of leaving Louisiana. He had emotional ties to this place that only another Cajun man could understand, but staying here wasn't worth selling his ass to some nameless john to make money for Louis. René didn't care if it was for the family. He wasn't doing it again and if that meant he had to get out of the state, he'd do it. He'd head for Los Angeles. They liked pretty men there. He was strong and he wasn't afraid of work. He'd find something to do.

He walked across the tiny parking lot and approached the man waiting in the agreed-upon spot. "You Louis Beaumont?" the supplier asked.

"Yeah," René lied. Louis had told him to. Said the supplier would only deal with Louis. René had shrugged. It wasn't the first time he'd claimed to be his brother for something like this. They looked enough alike that any description of one fit the other. Louis was an inch shorter and heavier but not big enough for it to matter. "Yeah, I'm Beaumont."

René never saw the other man pull the gun, never saw the supplier pull the trigger three times. He felt the slugs hit, knocking him from his feet, his body rebounding from a tall chain link fence, sending him tumbling to the pavement. He felt the damp from the rain-wet asphalt against his cheek, seeping into his shirt where he lay on the ground and he heard his killer running away, but he felt very little else. There was a sort of numb ache in his chest; he didn't want to move. And he knew he was dying.

~~~~~

Baby flinched when she heard the gunshots. She could actually see the flash from the muzzle of the pistol. She, Spike, and Jean Claude were buried in the night shadows of the porch of a little shop. She had been aware of the two men at the other end of the parking lot but she was more interested in kissing Spike and Jean than in anything the two mortals might be doing. She knew she was safe; she had her husband and her son with her.

She watched the taller man fall, obviously hit by multiple shots from his assailant's weapon. The other man ran. Jean and Spike were after him in an instant, vaulting the porch rail and running into the night. Baby approached the fallen stranger more cautiously but was quickly kneeling beside him. He had fallen out of the shadows and into the light from a nearby street lamp and she could see him clearly. She could see where the bullets had exited his back, tearing huge holes in his flesh. She shivered and gently turned him over, pulling him half into her lap as she did so. His blood immediately began to seep into her jeans. She looked down into the most beautiful face she had ever seen in her life. Eyes of an impossible shade of blue-green stared up at her. A jolt, a shock such as she had never felt went through her, leaving her breathless and aching. Those eyes, that face… she felt faint.

~~~~~

René felt gentle hands turning him, lifting him from the wet ground. He opened his eyes and saw an angel. There was no other explanation. Only an angel could cause the feeling he was experiencing. He stared into golden eyes and his heart swelled. He loved her. He knew it instantly. He had finally found the woman he loved. René was twenty-eight years old and he had never been in love, until now. It wasn't fair; he had found her and he was dying. It wasn't right; he should be able to spend years with her. Now, if he were lucky, he'd have a few minutes. He reached out, touching her face. "Je t'aime," he managed to say. At least he'd gotten a chance to tell her. He could die knowing he'd spoken it. He'd finally said the words to someone and meant them.

Baby took his other hand in hers, wrapping her small fingers around his long, slender ones. She knew what he said. It was one of the first phrases Jean had taught her. "I love you?" she translated. "You don't know me," she whispered.

"Don't matter. It true." René coughed as blood began to fill his left lung. Baby pulled him closer to her, leaning on the fence so she could hold him against her, his head resting on her breast. She gently wiped the grit from his face. He was so stunning. It wasn't right that someone so beautiful was so hurt. Her heart ached. He couldn't die. It was so very wrong. He stared at her as though he were memorizing every pore on her face. His teal eyes drilled into her heart and his hand, gently touching her cheek, sent wave after shocking wave of sensation through her. "I do love you," he said.

She started to weep. She couldn't bear it. He couldn't be taken from her. She didn't know why she felt that way, but she did. "Spike!!!" she screamed. He had to be nearby. Her husband was never far away. He could help; he'd know what to do. She caressed the wounded man's beautiful face. "I won't let you die. I'll think of something."

René pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it tenderly. "It's too late, cher. I gonna die. Life's a bitch, ain't it? Just when I find you, I die."

Baby's tears fell on his face and she held him tightly as he was racked by another coughing fit.

"Pet? What's this, then?" Spike rushed to her side when he saw the anguish on the face she lifted to him.

"Turn him. Please, Spike. Turn him." Her face was streaked with tears.

Spike frowned. She seemed too desperate, nearly hysterical. She never got like this. "Here, rose. Calm down. What's wrong?" She couldn't answer him. She just shook her head and wept. "Was it because you saw it happen this time? We couldn't have stopped it, dove. You couldn't have known."

That possibility cut her. She hadn't thought of that. Was there a way she could have prevented this young man from being hurt? Her mind screamed with guilt at the very thought. "Oh God! Please, Spike! Please turn him."

Spike knelt opposite her. "Pet! Shh. Don't be so upset! I'll do it!" She'd never pled like this before and Spike wouldn't refuse her. If the fledgling turned out bad, he'd simply kill it quickly. But she shouldn't be upset by this. He wouldn't allow it. "I'll give him the choice."

Jean Claude joined them as Baby closed her eyes in relief and squeezed René's hand tightly. He'd heard Spike's last statement. "You'd better hurry, Papa. He doesn't have long."

René was aware of the other two men though they were nowhere near as important as the woman. Being able to see her and touch her was vital. There was something about the other man's voice, though. "You Cajun?"

Jean swam into René's view and René was caught by the warmest brown eyes he'd ever seen. "Yeah. I am. And it looks like m' cher Maman wants to make you my brother."

Baby could feel him slipping away. "Spike! Hurry!" she whispered frantically.

He laid his hand over hers where it clasped René's. "I will." He addressed René in a stronger voice. "Look at me," he ordered. "Jean and I, we're vampires." He allowed his face to change. "And I can make you one, too. You'll die but you won't stay dead. You'll come back."

René stared at the monster before him. He'd heard stories all his life. It appeared they were true. He nodded. "I'd come back?"

Spike grinned. This one hadn't flinched. At least he wasn't a coward. "Yeah, you would. You'd be a demon, though. Soulless. You'd need blood to survive and you'll be prey to a hunger like you've never known."

René already felt such a hunger. He'd felt it the moment he'd laid eyes on the red-haired woman. He hungered to see her and touch her and simply be with her. He nodded again. It hurt to talk but he tried anyway. "I'd come back. I could be with people? I could be with her?"

Jean arched an eyebrow in surprise. That was an odd thing for a dying stranger to say.

Spike grinned. "Yeah. You'd be with us. We'd be your family."

René had already stopped listening. "Do it. I want to come back to her," he said. Pink foam was beginning to bubble from his throat as blood mixed with the gulps of precious air he managed to breathe.

Jean's eyebrow climbed a bit higher. He'd keep an eye on this soon-to-be fledgling.

Spike nodded and gashed his wrist. He offered it to René with the same words he'd spoken to all three of his children. "Then drink. Drink and become my son." He lowered his head to René's throat and sank his fangs into the tender flesh there.

René gasped and grimaced at the pain but obediently sucked the blood from Spike's wrist. His eyes never left Baby's face even as her image blurred and Death claimed him.

~~~~~

It hadn't been too difficult to sneak into the Orleans Parish Morgue. The huge, rather spooky-looking building had amused Baby. "They do like their atmosphere Gothic," she quipped. Spike laughed.

Jean pointed to the plaque on the wall. It read 'Hon. Frank Minyard, M.D., Coroner'. "He's a better jazz trumpeter." Jean shook his head. "You know, he has a Jazz section on the Coroner's official Web site."

Baby nearly choked laughing. "Only in NOLA."

"In here," Spike directed. They followed him into a refrigerated room. A handwritten sign taped to the door read "Cold Storage." Baby shook her head. Pathologists were a strange lot. Spike scanned the bank of vaults lining one wall. "He's in here." He had been surprised to feel his newest child getting ready to rise the evening after his turning. This one was impatient. And strong. It took strength to repair injuries like his and rise in only twenty-four hours. Spike opened the vault and slid out the tray. A black body bag lay inside. Spike could feel his son within it. He unzipped it and surveyed his newest childe. His eldest joined him. "Well, I have to say that I've never seen a prettier corpse," Spike observed.

Jean nodded. His new brother was without doubt an amazingly handsome man. Even dead, he was spectacular. Jean wondered what he'd be like when he woke up and animation returned to those perfect features. He glanced at his mother and was arrested by her face. It was solemn, her eyes huge and staring, and deathly pale. She looked faint. "Maman?"

"I'm fine, Jean. I just don't like this place." She looked at her elder son for a moment before returning her gaze to her younger son's nude form. "Is he gonna wake up soon?"

"No," Spike drawled. "He's barely stirring. We probably have an hour." Spike sauntered over to a chair and pulled out a cigarette. Jean joined his father and lit a cigar. "Might as well get comfortable, pet. We'll be here a while."

She nodded but didn't move away from René's body. She glanced at the toe tag. It read:

Beaumont, René D.
MGSW
Case #2001-2612-14D5

René Beaumont, so that was his name. In the news, he hadn't been identified, 'pending notification of next of kin.' She liked the name, rolling it over in her mind. She shivered. She didn't want to think of him as Multiple Gun Shot Wounds Case #2001-2612-14D5. She didn't want to remember what he'd looked like with those horrible wounds in his body or how he'd looked when he'd died in her arms. It twisted her insides and turned them cold to recall that. The wounds were gone now, already healed without leaving a trace. She reached out a tentative hand to touch his, to assure herself that he wasn't an illusion. His hand was cold beneath her touch. She shivered again. She didn't like seeing him like this, so… dead. It frightened her terribly and chilled her in ways she couldn't describe.

Then his fingers closed around hers. She didn't gasp. She didn't call out. She didn't make a sound or move. It wasn't because she wasn't frozen in fear; she felt only relief. He wasn't really dead. And that was all that mattered. René's eyes opened and stared directly into hers. They weren't yellow; they weren't vampire. There was no hostility in them at all. They were soft and teal and filled with something she didn't want to name.

Spike sensed a change in his childe. "Baby! Move away from him. Something's happening!" he said harshly, standing quickly and causing the chair to scrape across the floor with an abrasive, too-loud sound.

René was on his feet instantly, the body bag that had held him sailing off the tray and onto the floor. He felt woozy but sensed threat in that tone, in that sound. He placed himself between the woman and that threat. Her hand was still warm in his as he placed her behind his back. He'd defend her however he had to, with his own body if necessary.

"Get away from her," Spike ordered. He moved purposefully toward his fledgling. Looked like he'd have to kill this one right way. Shame, waking this quickly, able to move like that; he had potential.

René took half a step before he overcame the compulsion. "No," he said firmly. "I won't let you hurt her."

Spike's steps faltered and Jean froze. "What?"

"I said I won't let you hurt her. Nobody gonna hurt her." René swayed slightly.

Baby's stomach did a most peculiar flip-flop. He'd woken up wanting to take care of her. She laid a gentle hand on his bare shoulder. "It's all right, honey. Spike won't hurt me." She knew Spike would kill this man if she couldn't show Spike the young man meant her no harm. "It's all right, Spike. He isn't threatening me at all." René was still frowning at the other two men. She allowed her hand to move in soothing circles on his back. "Honey, it's okay. No one here wants to hurt me."

René glanced at her and was arrested by the caring on her face. "You sure? I can't let nobody hurt you."

She'd never seen anything more beautiful than his eyes. She smiled softly and he was sure he'd never seen anything more wonderful. "I…" He swayed again and slid slowly down the wall. "I don't…"

"Shh," Baby cooed, dropping down beside him, taking his hand again. Her insides tightened. Nothing could be wrong with him; he had to be all right. For some reason that she couldn't name, it was vital that he was all right. He just had to be. She couldn't face the alternative. "Spike, what's wrong with him?"

Spike was with her immediately. "He woke up too fast. He needed another few hours. He's just weak. Get a good meal in him and he'll be fine." Spike stared as his new son. He didn't know what to make of it. The fledge should have seen Baby as food, not as a person and especially not someone to protect. Was it because she had been with him when he was dying? Spike knew how confusing the transition from life to death to unlife was. That had to be it. The fledge didn't remember dying and thought he was still back in that parking lot. Well, at least he didn't seem to have an over-active bloodlust. "Jean, get the food, would you?"

Jean shook off the reverie he had fallen into. There was something here that was very wrong. He just couldn't pinpoint it. He dug into the bag they'd brought and pulled out the thermos of blood and passed it to his mother.

"Son? Do you remember anything? Son?" Spike tried to capture the baby vampire's attention.

"René? Honey, did you hear your father?" Baby asked. René had never stopped staring at her. She couldn't really take her eyes from him.

"Father? Him? How come he sound so good? I never hear anyone sound that good." René finally looked at Spike. "I remember you. You say you a vampire and I be one, too."

Spike nodded, glad the fledge seemed to be reacting more normally. "You are."

René went very silent and didn't move for at least a full minute. Finally, he slid his hand over his chest. "I was shot. I felt it." Baby shuddered. She couldn't bear thinking about the pain he had suffered. It caused an ache in her chest like the echo of his wounds.

Spike nodded. "Yes, you were. Rather badly."

"I died. I felt that, too." René thought for a moment and Spike let him. "My heart's not beating and I'm not breathing." He swallowed and looked at Spike. "I'm dead."

Spike nodded. "Yes. But you're undead, too. So you're not really dead." This was always the hardest part. Getting them to understand their new state.

René looked at him. "Well, yeah. I talking and moving. Dead people don't normally do that." Or maybe not, Spike thought with an internal laugh. The fledgling seemed to understand perfectly well.

Baby snorted. "At least his brain's working." René had a sense of humor and a quick wit. She wanted to tell him how much she appreciated that in a person.

"Dove!" Spike protested. He turned frustrated eyes on his occasionally exasperating spouse.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said and reached across to pat his hand. The love on her face for Spike was evident and René felt faint.

Spike caught him as he slipped to one side, cradling him in strong arms. "Easy there, son. Here, let me help you." Spike was ashamed. He'd been distracted when his newest childe needed attention. "Rose, hand us some food. He needs to eat." Baby opened the container and the scent of warm human blood assailed René. He gasped. Spike shushed him gently. "It's all right. This is part of what you are now." Spike held the thermos to René's lips; the young man's hands were shaking too badly to hold it himself. "Slowly! Go slowly. Don't ever let the bloodlust take you over. You can control it." Spike began René's first lessons in being one of his children. The blood tasted so good. René had never tasted anything better. He had soon drained that thermos and the second one they had brought. He still felt very shaky.

"Papa? Why is he so weak?" Jean asked. Claudia and Philip had both awakened strong and ready to take on anything.

"He didn't rest long enough. Burned all his energy on healing too quickly." Spike saw the concern on the faces of both his wife and his son. "He'll be all right. In fact, he'll be very strong if we can get him past these next couple of hours." Spike bit gently into his own wrist. "Drink this, son. It'll help."

The smell of Spike's blood was intoxicating and René began to drink. Spike talked to him softly, encouraging him to drink, to grow strong, telling him how welcome he was to the family, how much he would be loved. René could feel the weakness ebbing and strength returning to his body. This amazing man was giving him his own blood, his own vitality, and had given him a new life. Spike had saved him from death and given him a family. René stared at the man holding him. The more Spike spoke the more he felt at peace. There was something in Spike's voice, something René had never experienced before… acceptance. Love. Caring for what he was feeling. René's heart, which he had carefully guarded and locked away for years, had been opened by the love he felt for Baby. She had flooded it with sensation. Now it was opened a little more and Spike slipped inside. René had not known he was capable of feeling so much. He'd always been secretly afraid he was as cold and heartless as Louis and their father. Now he knew differently. And for that alone, he would always be grateful to Spike. If being a vampire meant he could feel love and maybe have a little of it returned then he was glad he'd died. It was more than he'd ever had before.

Spike looked down at René and felt the emotions flowing from his new childe. He gently pulled his wrist away from René's lips before he smiled down into eyes that were as striking as his own. "It's going to be all right. I'm your Daddy now. And I'll take care of you."

Jean stepped up and laid a hand on his father's shoulder. "You couldn't ask for a better papa," he said. He held his other hand out to the young man. "I'm Jean Claude. I'm your brother." René accepted Jean's firm handshake. "It's going to be good to have another Cajun in the family, n'est-ce pas? We're going to be close."

Spike's smile broadened. "Yeah, Jean will help you figure out how to go and all. He'll take care of you and look out for you."

René looked into the rich brown eyes of the other Cajun. Now there was a new concept, a brother who looked out for him. But he had to admit that there was already more concern for him on Jean's face than he'd ever seen on Louis'. His attention was diverted from his new brother as his new Papa directed it to the woman. He could sense that she was the only human in the room. She was the only one who was alive. She was the only one who mattered.

"This is Baby. She's my wife and your new mama. She's the most precious thing we have. You must always protect her and love her," Spike ordered.

René looked into her golden eyes again. So she belonged to someone else. If that wasn't just the story of his life; found the woman he loved as he lay dying and even though he'd been offered a way back to her, she belonged to someone else. Well, René would wait and see. He wouldn't say anything yet. He was reluctant to hurt this stranger who had been so kind to him, who he already felt such love for. But René knew she really belonged to him. They were meant to be together. He'd known it the instant he saw her.

He focused on Spike's words. So he was expected to protect her. He'd do that without the least qualms. No one would hurt her as long as he could move. Love her? "Yes. I always protect and love her. I love her forever," he promised.

Chapter One - "Angel"

I'm alone. Yeah, I don't know if I can face the night.
I'm in tears and the cryin' that I do it for you.
I want you're love. Let's break the walls between us.
Don't make it tough. I'll put away my pride.
Enough's enough, I've suffered and I've seen the light.
Baby

You're my angel, come and save me tonight.
You're my angel, come and make it all right.

Don't know what I'm gonna do about this feeling inside.
Yes, it's true; loneliness took me for a ride.
Without your love, I'm nothing but a beggar.
Without your love, a dog without a bone.
What can I do? I'm sleepin' in this bed alone.
Baby

You're my angel, come and save me tonight.
You're my angel, come and make it all right.
Come and save me tonight.

You're the reason I live.
You're the reason I die.
You're the reason I give when I break down and cry,
Don't need no reason why.
Baby, baby, baby.

You're my angel, come and save me tonight.
You're my angel, come and make it all right.
Come and save me tonight.

Come and save me tonight.

New Orleans, Louisiana
Wednesday 3:45 p.m.
March 16, 2011

René made sure the package was securely fastened opposite him before sitting back onto the rich leather of the limo's seat. "It should be fine like that, Maman. Provided Jerrod doesn't decide to drive off the bridge or something."

Baby laughed softly and settled beside him. "Well, it would be just my luck for it to end up ripped into a million pieces after insisting I had to bring it myself rather than letting the gallery deliver it."

He grinned. "Yeah, it would." He stared out the window for a moment as the limo sped through the afternoon headed for Baby's plantation. "We send Jerrod back for the rest of the things while we hang this one, yeah?" he suggested.

"That's a wonderful idea," she answered. "It will be good to be alone for a while. We haven't spent any time at the plantation in ages."

~~~~~

René straightened the painting. "That better?"

"Perfect!" Baby answered. "Step back here and see what you think."

He joined her and critically considered her latest purchase. "I like that. It goes well with the room. The colors, they look good, and that artist knew what he was doing. It fit the overall theme of the room." He saw her smile and was filled with horror. "If you ever tell Jean I just say that, I'll deny it to high heaven!"

Her smile grew. "You don't want Jean to know that under that street punk image there's actually a man of taste and discrimination?"

"He'd never let me live it down," René said sadly.

She chuckled. René kept a great deal hidden behind his bad boy facade. Few people realized that René hadn't entirely wasted his various times in the penitentiary. He'd taken advantage of the opportunity to educate himself. A much younger René had had dreams of a college degree. His family had seen to it that dream wouldn't come true and, as with some many aspects of his human life, he'd buried that disappointment inside. He never spoke of that brief time in academia to anyone save Baby, but she knew he'd have done quite well had he been given the opportunity to finish. He was quite good with math and, surprisingly, René wrote in nearly perfect English. He simply refused to speak it. He preferred his dialect and she found his fractured speech quite endearing.

She smiled at him. She knew his facade was a defense mechanism and had allowed him to survive briefly in a too-harsh world of drugs and crime that had ended his life far too young. She was immensely grateful that in unlife she'd been given the chance to know him and see him reach out to become more than a street-born wiseguy. She hoped she was there to see him when he achieved his full potential. She took another step back. Distracted, she bumped an occasional table and a small chest fell to the floor. Its delicate lock snapped open on impact and a dozen photographs spilled across the polished oak planks.

She knew what they were before she ever knelt to pick them up. So did René. With trembling fingers she lifted first one and then another, unable to not look at the images of the tiny infant. René's hand closed gently around her wrist. "Here, let me do it," he whispered. He'd spare her that pain if he could.

She shook her head. "No. I'm okay."

He knew that was a lie. "We do it together, then." He helped her gather up the photos of their daughter and replace them in their chest. "The lock's broken," he said. "I'll have to buy a new box for them." He set them carefully back on the table. "I'll get something real nice."

She nodded and moved to the window. Wrapping her arms about herself, she stared out at the trees, bright with new leaves.

René ran the tips of his fingers over the closed chest. "It's the least I can do." He smelled her teardrops, salty and bitter. "Cher, oh cher, please." He went to her and wrapped his arms about her, wanting to comfort her, wanting her to comfort him. "I wish I could do something, anything to make it better," René said. "I wish..."

She turned in his embrace and pressed her fingers to his lips. "Shh. There's nothing you can do, baby." She laid her head on his chest. "There's nothing anybody can do."

"I know." He swallowed. He stared out at the same trees she'd been contemplating, his gaze just as unseeing. All they both really saw was a memory of a tiny baby with black hair and rosebud lips. "I think of her a lot, too. Wonder how she is. I see her sometimes but I can't really talk to her. She can't know who I really am. I ask Jean about her when I get brave enough. He swears she fine. Jean, he sees her a lot and he knows." He stroked her hair. "But it's not the same. I'm her daddy. I should be the one looking out for her." Bitterness he couldn't hide colored his voice. "She should be here with us."

Baby's tears seeped into his shirt, making it cling to his skin. "How I could I let her go?" Her own bitterness ate at her soul. "What kind of woman am I? I gave my child away."

"You did it to save her!" he countered. "You knew she couldn't stay with us. She'd end up dead with us. It's the only reason. We did it for her own good."

"Who are you trying to convince, my darling?" she asked, a touch of anger creeping into her tone. "Me or you?"

"Bébé," he chided gently. "Don't do this to yourself, petite. Don't do this to me."

She was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry. I never meant..." The tears began to flow again. "I didn't mean to treat you that way." She remembered vividly René coming to her, alone, to tell her that if she wished it he'd defy his father's wishes. Telling her secretly that if she commanded, they would take the baby and run away, that as long as he was alive, no one would force her to be separated from her child... their child. He had given her the choice that Spike had denied her. Though she had agreed with Spike that the baby would be in constant danger at Rue Royale, it had meant worlds that she could make the choice herself. Only René had given her that option and meant it. "You're always here for me. You're always beside me when I need you. Sometimes I think you're the only one who really cares. How can I be so mean to you when you do so much for me?" She looked up at him.

He kissed her fingers, then her palm before pressing her hand to his cheek. "I would do anything for you. I love you."

She knew he did. She could see it in his face. She could feel it pulsing through her. His love vibrated through her heart and mind. It showed in his every action. It glowed in his every word. René, quite simply, existed only for her. Daily she felt that love surrounding and protecting her. René sheltered her from the world in a way no one else could. He allowed her freedom and control over her own actions while standing as a buffer against any storm however large or small that might arise. He brought her a peace and serenity that no other could match.

Now, feeling his cheek scratchy-smooth and cool beneath her fingers, that constantly suppressed longing she always felt surfaced. Without deliberate thought, without intent, she made the mistake of looking too deeply into the face of love. In an instant, she fell into his eyes and lost herself. Of its own volition, her hand gently slipped behind his head, fingers wrapped in his silky hair. She pulled him down slowly until their lips touched and suddenly nothing else mattered.

Conscious thought fled when he felt her lips pressed against his. His heart called out for this and ruled his mind and body. This was why he lived. This was why he had found his way back from the grave. He had defeated Death to be with her. He fought his own demon nature daily to be worthy of her. He scooped her up in his arms, never taking his lips from hers. He intended to never take his lips from hers again. He carried her the few steps to the bed and gently laid her down, covering her body with his own. Her lips opened beneath his and he deepened the kiss, tasting her, exploring her mouth, reveling when she explored his. He had not felt the touch of her this way since the night they sent their child into hiding. At times it had been nearly impossible for him to remember his role as her son when all he wanted was to be her lover. Filial kisses, however affectionate and loving, were not the same. They did not quench the thirst for her that parched his heart. For nearly a decade he had stood beside her and been denied this. Now, like water flowing through the desert, life bloomed in the wake of her lips. For long minutes he simply kissed her. René knew he'd never have enough of her kisses. Each touch of her lips deepened his craving for more, a drug that his system would never purge.

His desire for her simplest touch was monumental. The merest brush of her hand was worth more to him than the evening's long attentions of any other woman. Her lips on his were worth the wealth of nations. He would trade any item in his possession for an hour of her time. This kiss was bliss unmeasurable.

Petal-soft, he felt her palms brush his lower back. They had slipped under his untucked shirt and rested warm and gentle on his skin. He moaned at the ecstasy of merely having her touch him. She gave the tiniest echo of that sound and tightened her embrace, holding him as though she would never open her arms again, as though she would hold him forever. His hands cradled her face, his fingers tangled in her hair, as their kiss became more frantic, his lips more demanding. Her hands pressed more insistently against his back, holding him to her, pressing him closer. His lips moved to her chin, her cheeks, her eyelids. They moved to the white column of her throat and settled there, growing warm from contact with her skin. That warmth settled into his heart, spreading through his body until he smoldered for her. When, in the softest of voices she said, "Oh René, I love you so," flame ignited and pure fire flowed through him, burning away all hesitancy, all thoughts of anything but loving her.

His hand moved down her neck and inside the collar of her shirt, her skin silken under his palm. Without cognizant thought, his fingers found the buttons of her shirt, undoing them one by one, opening the garment so he could touch her. His hand slid effortlessly over her ribs, down her waist, across her stomach while his lips sought hers again.

"Ange, I want you," he whispered. "Want you more than anything I ever dreamed of."

"Yes," she panted, her breath warm against his lips. "Oh God, I want you. I love you."

He groaned and slipped his tongue into her willing mouth. He kissed her as deeply as he could, as deeply as the love that dwelled in his heart. There was no other thought in his mind save her. She was his goddess, worthy of his worship, his adoration. She was all he required. She was life and light and everything that made up his world. She was his reason for being.

His lips moved across her body as his hand freed her of any clothing that kept her from his touch. He wanted to know every inch of her. He wanted to worship all of her. When she lay revealed before him, he felt faint from the sheer beauty of her. He lowered his head to her breast, unable to look at all of her.

He felt her undressing him, her hands and lips adoring him as he adored her. Her love was as great as his own and inundated him in comfort and joy such as he'd never known. The taste of her skin, the feel of her gasping with desire for him, drove him mad. He could no longer think, only feel. Her fingers closed around him and he arched into her grasp, nearly overcome by so simple a touch.

"I need you," he whispered against her skin. "I love you. You mean more to me than living. You are everything. Je t'aime. Je te besoin." His breath, drawn only so he could speak words of love, was cool against her fevered skin. "I loved you from the minute I saw you. I'll love you till I die. God willing, I'll love you even after." Her stomach was soft and yielding beneath his mouth. The taste of her inner thigh, softer still, the skin smooth as satin under his tongue, was as intoxicating as fine brandy. He could hear her heart pounding, setting the rhythm for his love. He could sense the blood flowing through her veins, more precious than ambrosia. To taste her, to claim her for all eternity as his, to bind her to him forever, would complete his existence. He would give himself over to her, become a part of her. "Be mine," he pled. "Please be mine."

She gently pulled him up her body, drawing their lips together once more. "Yours. I want to be yours," she breathed. "I've always wanted to be yours."

He groaned in elation and kissed her with all the joy he felt. He licked down her throat, his fangs slowly lengthening, preparing finally to possess her. They scraped across her skin delicately and encountered his father's mark. The world, unheeded for a few precious moments, crashed in upon him. The reason why she could never be his, forgotten in the bliss of her love, ripped through his heart, shattering it. He rolled from her with an inarticulate cry of grief and loss. She could never be his. She belonged to his beloved Papa and he would not break that trust. That vow would one day destroy him, he had no doubt, but he would stand by his oath even though his death was the result. He would not betray Spike.

He covered his eyes with his arm. "I can't," he said, tears choking him and tightening the back of his throat. "We can't...." He turned his head away as she began to cry.

He helped her dress when her fingers trembled too much to fasten her buttons. When Jerrod returned, he placed her packages away where they would be safe until she could place them where she wished. He cared for her needs and wishes as he had always done.

And he sat as far from her as he could while Jerrod drove them back to Rue Royale.

~~~~~

He sought Spike beneath the light of a waxing gibbous moon. He found his father in the garden. For just an instant his resentment was nearly overpowering, but it faded as quickly as it came, leaving only desolation. "Papa? I need to leave," he said without preamble. "I need to be away from here. I have to start my own life."

Spike turned knowing eyes on his son. He had sensed that something was very wrong between his consort and his son and he suspected more than either of them realized. He knew he had not yet been betrayed but he suspected it was only a matter of time if René stayed. He had wondered fleetingly more than once if he would be able to kill his son when the time came. He knew he couldn't kill her. Spike waited for René.

"I need your permission, Papa." René stared at the flambeaux flickering behind his sire. "I want to find my own way. My children and grandchildren would go with me. We'd leave tonight."

Spike arched a scarred eyebrow but didn't comment on the abruptness of the departure. If René left, he might very well be saving all their lives. "Alright. If that's what you feel you have to do, René, you have my permission."

René nodded and turned to go.

"How long will you be gone, son?" Spike asked. "When will you be coming back?"

René didn't turn back to look at the man for whom he was sacrificing his life. "I won't be back. I can't. I can't come back. This can't be my home no more." He left without another word. Before dawn, he had left his father's house in search of forgetfulness.

He took his leave of Jean as the clocks chimed two. It was hard and tearful and filled with recriminations neither spoke aloud. Denying Jean's pleas for him to stay was as difficult as anything René had ever done. To see Jean reduced to so hopeless a state wounded René. Only once before had the Prince of New Orleans begged for anything; he had begged for his life as it bled away, oozing from a knife wound in his stomach. As he lay cradled in the arms of a woman he didn't know he'd pled and she'd found a way to give him life. Now, he begged that René not take the light that sustained that life from him. René could only shake his head and look away. Jean could not accept that he was losing what he loved most for the sake of the same woman who had saved his life. Jean sat on the bed he wanted to share with René and cried for the life and love he couldn't have. René cried for Jean's pain and his inability to offer him comfort. There was no comfort to be had for either brother. There was only a future marred by separation and loneliness. Jean was left with a fractured heart and a burning ache that would never be eased.

René spoke to Baby as the moon eased behind the warehouses across the river in search of rest. He placed the bulk of her bedroom between them. He couldn't touch her. If he did, he would never have the strength to leave her. Unlike his goodbye to Jean, there was no weeping. This hurt went too deep for tears. Here there was only numb agony and eyes that couldn't meet for fear of weakened resolve and incipient disloyalty. Betrayal lurked in the shadows awaiting birth should his resolve falter. Their leave-taking brought only shattered hearts and broken dreams. There was no surcease from the agony within.

When he was gone, Baby cried in secret and locked her pain away where no one could see it. And Spike mourned the first departure of one of his children and the splintering of his household.

Chapter Two - "Everything I Do - I Do It for You"

(Everything I Do) I Do It for You

Look into my eyes - you will see
What you mean to me.
Search your heart - search your soul
And when you find me there you'll search no more.
Don't tell me it's not worth trying for.
You can't tell me it's not worth dying for.
You know it's true.
Everything I do - I do it for you.

Look into my heart - you will find
There's nothin' there to hide.
Take me as I am - take my life.
I would give it all I would sacrifice.
Don't tell me it's not worth fighting for.
I can't help it there's nothing I want more.
You know it's true.
Everything I do - I do it for you.

There's no love - like your love.
And no other - could give more love.
There's nowhere - unless you're there
All the time - all the way.

Don't tell me it's not worth trying for.
I can't help it there's nothing I want more.
I would fight for you - I'd lie for you.
Walk the wire for you - Yeah, I'd die for you.

You know it's true.
Everything I do - Oh, oh, I do it for you.

Mobile, Alabama
Thursday 2:43 a.m.
April 21, 2011

René waited patiently in the deep shadows cast by one of the ancient oaks of Bienville Square. He blended perfectly with the darkness, at one with the shadows. He watched the night-dappled park as a lone car eased past, its occupants unaware of the demon lurking just outside the auto's illusionary protection. It continued its trek down Dauphin Street unmolested. This demon had no interest in the blood of innocents. He was not in search of warm blood; he'd fed well long before midnight claimed the city. And in any case, René was hunting much more interesting prey this night.

He liked the old park. It had been here since the beginnings of the city, its oaks and pathways offering peace and relaxation to generation after generation of Mobilians. The fountain in the center was a delicate marvel of the ironworker's art, as were the benches lining the paths. He could feel the heart of the city here. Old Mobile still existed here away from the bustle of the malls and the interstates and the transitory nature of new things. Like the island at the head of the bay, the battleship forever docked on the Causeway, the sham grief of the Merry Widows of Joe Cain, Bienville Square was part of the soul of the city. René felt at home here. The streets with their French names, the smell of the river and the bay, it was enough like New Orleans to soothe his spirit and keep the worst of the homesickness at bay.

He put thoughts of the past from his mind. He had to concentrate on the future. He had to forget what lay behind him. There was only grief in those thoughts. He turned his attention to the present and the moon-drenched landscape about him. Tonight was too important for any distractions. A waning moon, still fat, was approaching its zenith... and so was he. He'd waited many more nights than this one. He'd planned and observed for weeks. He'd set his family a task and his children and grandchildren had not failed him. Their efforts were about to bear violent and bloody fruit. He knew tonight his waiting was over. He could feel it in the rough bark of the old tree, hear it in the tinkling of the famous cast-iron fountain, scent it on the late spring breeze.

Sam silently joined him. "They're on their way. Be here in just a few minutes," he informed his sire. "You sure you're ready for this?" His craggy face was serious as his dark eyes scanned the centuries-old park.

René smiled darkly. "I been ready for this for days."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I reckon." He kept his gaze on their surroundings, wary and searching for any danger. He wasn't sure he liked this plan even though he had been instrumental in its development. He didn't like the risks involved and didn't like all the scenarios that kept running through his head. Too many of them ended tragically. "I know you have this all plotted out. And it's likely to go down just the way you've planned. But I want you to know that if this goes wrong, I'll see to the others. Get them back to New Orleans. Then I'll see that you're avenged. Anyone who had a part in taking you down'll die."

René chuckled. "There's probably gonna be plenty of dying tonight, Sam, but I won't be doing any of it." He was touched by his son's rare display of affection. Sam wasn't often moved to express the feelings René knew the older man possessed. Theirs was a unique relationship. René, only three in vampire years when he'd turned the dying lawman, was nearly thirty years younger than Sam. Sam was at once son, father figure, and friend. René would have been lost without the Texan. He regretted being the cause of Sam's death but he never regretted turning Sam.

Laying a hand on Sam's arm for just a moment, René moved away from the oak and headed toward the old bandstand. The graceful structure had been restored to its former beauty and, to René, seemed a proper spot for his elevation to true master status. He sat down on the gently curved stairs to wait. He half-lay back against the old steps, his head tilted back, staring up at the moon. The pallid light shone on the strong, ashen column of his throat, tossed silver into his black hair, and outlined his lean frame with an ethereal glow. It delineated his perfect features with soft nocturnal brush stokes. White fire glinted from his jewelry and set sparks dancing in his night-darkened eyes.

Sam shook his head and muttered to himself. "He walks in beauty like the night..." He sighed. "It ain't right. No man should look like that." His sire's legendary beauty sometimes affected even the hard-bitten U.S. marshal. Tonight was such a time. René lounging on the white steps of the ancient gazebo was a vision normally only allowed the frenzied minds of poets and artists. "Anything happens to you, I will kill them all," Sam swore. As though conjured by his words, he heard their foes arrive. He snarled silently. René would live through this night, Sam promised himself, even if he had to kill half of Mobile to see to it. He settled deeper into the shadows to await the right time and his sire's signal.

René's negligent sprawl annoyed more than one of the approaching vampires. Yet their snarls and curled lips meant less than nothing to the Cajun. He had set a destiny for himself and he was concentrated on its fulfillment. He focused his attention on the vampire in the center of the group. The reconnaissance his children had run had been extensive. René knew as much about the current Master of Mobile as it was possible for him to know. The vampire was an imposing figure but ruled the city negligently through the offices of several subordinates. He spent most of his time in pursuit of his own pleasures and only used his power to further his own whims. His court was disorganized and members drifted in and out with little oversight. His organization had been easy to infiltrate. He had neither the iron control nor the fealty that was found in the court of the Master of New Orleans. Looking at him now, René knew his first impressions had been correct: He'd have no trouble defeating this man.

"'Bout time you got here," René drawled. He blew a stream of cigarette smoke from the corner of his mouth. "I was gettin' bored." Long legs stretched out before him, booted feet crossed, leaning back on his elbows with his hands dangling loosely, he presented a picture of complete ease. Yet every vampire in the group confronting him knew it was a façade. They all felt the threat implicit in his mere presence. René radiated danger. It rippled the air around him like a heat mirage. It blazed from hooded teal eyes. It brought unease to the heart of any undead within sound of that richly accented voice. Even the glitter from the diamond in his nostril seemed to flash a warning.

René had learned the art of appearing simultaneously appealing and dangerous at the hand of William the Bloody and no one could appear beautiful and deadly quite as well as Spike could. Except René. In many ways, René was a mirror image of his father. He was about to increase his similarity to his sire. He'd rule his own city just as Spike ruled New Orleans.
"Who the fuck are you?" one of the vampires to the Master's right asked. A lieutenant, René determined. He didn't like the look in that one's eyes and decided to kill him as soon as possible. The vampire would cause trouble later down the line if allowed to live.

René rose with the lithe grace of a cobra spreading its hood, a warning to the observant that he was as deadly in motion as he appeared at rest. "I'm René Beaumont, prince of New Orleans and second son to William the Bloody." He tossed his cigarette into the night. "I'm your new Master."

Several of the vampires blinked. "Cocky son of a bitch, aren't you?" the lieutenant sneered.

René grinned and adjusted his fly. "You got no idea," he said pleasantly. With a speed that even the other vampires had trouble registering, he descended the steps and grabbed the speaker in a headlock. The vampire couldn't dislodge the Cajun's hold. René snarled in the offender's ear, "And I don't like being called a son of a bitch. It reflects bad on my mother and no one shows Maman any disrespect." He snapped the other vampire's neck, leaving him helpless. René twisted a bit more and the vampire turned to dust in his arms. He looked at the group. "Now, you can either surrender or I can kill you. It all up to you."

One of the Master's entourage went for his crossbow. He found Sam's automatic against his head. "A bullet to the brain won't kill you but it hurts like hell and you're never quite right again," he drawled. He disarmed the vampire as efficiently as he'd disarmed any of a hundred suspects he'd apprehended. "Missy? Joseph. Stacey." he commanded.

Joseph stepped from the midst of the opposition, his favored sword already in his hand. He grinned boyishly and rested the blade against the neck of a blond vampire. "Right here, big brother." He patted his captive on the shoulder. "We're just here to make sure the fight is fair, Jimbo." His grin broadened. "Not that your boy has any chance against Daddy."

"You fucking traitor," the blond grated.

René's eldest daughter laughed and nudged the barrel of her gun against the head of another of the Master's lieutenants. "I wouldn't call Joe a traitor," Stacey said. "It's not betrayal if you were never loyal to someone in the first place." Her second revolver was pointed unwaveringly at another highly placed member of the Master's court. At moments like this, Anastasia Morgan reminded Sam of their grandmother.

Missy uncurled from the body of the vampire she'd been romancing. "Naw, it ain't," she agreed with her sister, her mountain Kentucky accent completely at odds with her delicate Asian beauty. "Joe's like the rest of us, completely loyal to family. Y'all just ain't family," she explained.

René's remaining children and grandchildren dropped from the thick limbs of the old live oaks, silent menace on smiling faces. René grinned at the Master. "Now, what you say? Just you and me?"

The big man sneered and nodded. He'd killed dozens of challengers over the years. This lanky vampire would be no exception. René read every thought as it flashed across the Master's face and grinned broadly. He liked it when he was underestimated.

The resulting battle was as quick and bloody as Sam could have hoped for. He had seen René fight many times but he remained in awe of his sire's prowess. René moved with a speed and agility that even Spike sometimes envied. René used his long legs to advantage, using spinning kicks and flying assaults that snapped bones and bruised flesh, punishing his adversaries while he remained untouched. It seemed to Sam that René spent more time airborne when fighting than he did on the ground. Sam preferred to get in close and grapple, crushing his opponents with his strength, but René struck with electric speed and jerked away before his adversary even knew he'd been hit. There was a beauty to René's method that was undeniable. It was the strike of a poisonous viper. It was lightning from a cloudless sky. It was ballet. Dance wedded to Death with a loveliness lethal to behold. Those who partnered René for this waltz never danced again.

The former Master of Mobile had just had his last dance. Pride shone from Sam's eyes as René rose smoothly from a crouch, his opponent's dust settling gently around him. Sam was well aware of René's faults but he also knew his sire was a man he could be justly proud of. Sam had no regrets about being the son of René the Beautiful. He caught glimpses of grins from his siblings and felt the rush of pure pride through their bond. Agreeing to come to Mobile with their sire had been a gamble. René had seen that it paid off for them. They'd just become princes and princesses of their own city. Sam had no doubts that when the time came, René would help them conquer towns of their own.

René looked at the assembled vampires and smiled unpleasantly. He tossed the stake that had killed their leader into the chest of a vampire that moved to challenge him. As the dust exploded into the humid air, he sneered at those who remained. "Like I said, my name is René Beaumont and I am your new Master."

Sam came and stood beside him. "Show your new lord proper respect," he snarled. "Father, just tell me who you want to die."

Joseph grinned. "Yeah, just say the word, Daddy." He drew the sword along Jimbo's neck with just enough pressure to draw a line of blood.

René held up his hand. "My children. You'll obey them like you obey me." Some of the vampires nodded. It had actually been easier than René had expected.

The ring on René's finger glinted in the moonlight. It reminded him of the reason for this battle. He knew that trapped beneath the fleur de lys, twined together for as long as the gold held them, were three hairs, one of his own dark ones, a long red one, and a baby fine ebony one. He thought of that baby hair and swore that his daughter would grow up in a city that was as safe as he could make it. His child would not be surrounded by darkness and death save that which her father controlled. He looked out over the assemblage and snarled softly.

One by one, the vampires knelt until only René's family remained standing. He smiled at each of them, giving them his personal thanks. Their link flamed with triumph and love. He turned to the new Prince of Mobile. "Sam, call Papa. Tell him... Tell Spike I'm gonna build him an empire."

Chapter Three - "How Do I Live"

How Do I Live

How do I, Get through the night without you?
If I had to live without you, What kind of life would that be?
Oh, I need you in my arms, need you to hold,
You're my world, my heart, my soul,
If you ever leave, baby, you would take away everything good in my life,

And tell me now. How do I live without you?
I want to know. How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go, How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?

Without you,
There'd be no sun in my sky,
There would be no love in my life,
There'd be no world left for me.
And I, Baby I don't know what I would do,
I'd be lost if I lost you, If you ever leave,
Baby, you would take away everything real in my life,

And tell me now, How do I live without you?
I want to know, How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go, How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?

Please tell me baby, How do I go on?

If you ever leave, Baby you would take away everything,
I need you with me. Baby don't you know that you're everything, Real in my life?

And tell me now, How do I live without you,
I want to know, How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go, How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?

How do I live without you? How do I live without you baby?

Mobile, Alabama
Tuesday 11:23 a.m.
October 2, 2018

"Cher?" Jean said as he stepped up behind his brother and wrapped his arms about René. "Why so pensive, m' coeur?"

"Don't worry, Jean," René said wearily. "I haven't had a drink all day."

"René!" Jean said, caught between exasperation and sadness. "I wasn't checking up on you. I just... You seem so withdrawn tonight, love."

René shrugged. "I'm sorry. I don't feel like pretending I'm happy right now." He neither turned nor looked at Jean.

Jean drew back from him. "Is that what you do René? Pretend you're happy?"

René heard the hurt in Jean's voice but didn't feel up to the effort required to soothe his brother. He didn't feel like lying. There had been too many lies over the years. "Sometimes."

Jean's anger faded away in the face of that weary answer. He put his arms back around René. "Why, frčre? Why do you pretend?"

René sighed. "I don't really feel like this today. Don't analyze me, Jean." He placed his hand over his husband's where it rested on his waist. "Just hold me."

"I can do that," Jean said softly. He laid his head on René's shoulder. "I can do that for as long as you want me to."

René smiled slightly. "Forever should about do it," he said.

They both ignored the sound of the doorbell. Neither the Master or his consort was expected to worry about answering the door. They continued to stare out the oriole window at the night-washed garden. An odd sensation flashed through Jean's consort link an instant before Sam appeared on the landing. "René?" Something in the way Sam simply spoke his sire's name sent a jolt of trepidation through Jean. René was moving before Jean quite registered that his arms were empty.

"Where?" René said as he vaulted down the stairs.

"Your study," Sam called after him.

Jean started to follow but Sam laid a gently restraining hand on his chest. "You don't want to do that." He looked at Jean with something very like sadness in his eyes and that fear Jean felt grew. "Baby's here," Sam explained. "She asked to see René. Alone."

Jean's fear turned to terror. "I need to find Cordelia," he said.

Sam nodded. "I think that's a damn good idea. He's gonna need the two of you."

Jean cursed. He wasn't ready to face this again. "What the hell can she want?"

"I don't know," Sam answered. "But she was about to jump out of her own skin. I've never seen her wound that tight." His mouth set in a hard line. "I've got a bad feeling about this, Jean."

"So do I, Sam. So do I."

~~~~~

René burst into his study and froze. She was really there, standing by his window, looking out at his garden. "Bébé?"

She was on him in an instant, her arms around him, babbling incoherently, kissing him over and over. He caught her face, his hands tender but strong on either side of it. "Cher belle, I can't understand you. Slow down, m' ange. Tell me what it is."

Gasping for breath, somewhere between laughter and tears, she grasped his arms. "He says it's alright. He said I should come."

"Ange. Shhhh." He made sure she was looking at him. "I'm right here. Tell me slowly. What are you trying to say."

The tears finally won over the laughter and spilled happily from her golden eyes. "Spike said I should come to you. Spike said I can be yours." She watched the wonder bloom on his face. "I can be yours."

"Mine?" he said incredulously. "Mine?"

She nodded. "Yours. Finally yours."

René's burst of joy was so great, his entire bloodline felt it and Jean, outside on the landing, was knocked to his knees by the force of it.

Jack was beside Jean in an instant, helping him up. "What are you doing here?" Jean asked, still dazed by the force of the emotions flowing from his consort.

"I drove Baby here. She wasn't in any state to do it herself. So Spike sent me." He grinned in self-deprecation. "Companion duties and all that."

"What the hell is going on?" Jean asked.

Jack helped him into the parlor and Sam handed Jean a glass of bourbon. Jean's hand shook when he took it from his nephew. It shook even more when Jack finished his explanation.

"Mon Dieu," Jean muttered and took a hefty drink of the liquor. "After all these years, Spike's given his permission. I can't believe it. I never thought he'd be willing to share her."

Jack shrugged. "I wasn't around for all that but I know she thinks it's a miracle. Apparently, Spike told her that he had been selfish and he saw that now. Said she'd only be complete, only be truly happy when she could be with René some." Jack shook his head. "You people have the most convoluted relationships of anyone I've ever heard of."

Jean smiled weakly. "That we do, Jacques." He shook his head and ran his hand over his face. "Mon Dieu! I can't even imagine what it's going to be like." He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

~~~~~

René carried Baby over the threshold, kicked his bedroom door closed behind him and smiled down at Baby. The emotions flowing through him were all contained in that smile.

Baby smiled back. She was calmer, more at peace, than she'd been in months. Just holding René always helped to calm her. There was a quietness within him that flowed into her whenever he touched her. Just being in the same room with him could soothe her heart and mind. There had always been something about her beautiful son and lover that could bring her peace. Just looking at him had always brought her such joy. He was so incredibly beautiful. She had always thought Spike was the most attractive man ever born and she was still convinced that he had the most beautiful body she'd ever seen. He was a fine Grecian statue made flesh. Perfect in form, with the face of an angel, Spike was a work of art. And René was a miracle. Tall and lean, his was a more human form than Spike's, perhaps. Yes, there was no doubt in her mind that Spike had the more perfect body of the two, though that was like saying that a Michelangelo statue was more perfect than a DaVinci painting. But René's face transcended beauty. She had no doubt that there was no more perfect countenance in all the world. She doubted if any man born had ever been as beautiful as René Beaumont was. It was only right that he was immortal now. Such beauty should never be destroyed by age or death. And when he looked at her as he was doing now, with such love and concern shining from his incredible blue-green eyes, she felt as though she were dying again. Her heart contracted at the devotion she saw on that perfect face.

"My René," she whispered as she raised a shaky hand to touch his cheek, hesitantly, tentatively, as though afraid he would melt away at her touch, as though she couldn't believe he existed. "My beautiful, beautiful René."

His own heart jumped at the feel of her fingers on his skin. "Oh, cher coeur. Today, m' belle ange, today you gave me a reason to live." He caressed Baby's face. "All this time without you, these months, I have no life. I have no reason to live. Without you, I just a walking dead man." When she breathed his name, he welded his lips to hers.

She wrapped herself about René as though her unlife depended on being as close to him as she possibly could. Perhaps it did. He knew his depended on her.He had spoken the truth when he said that without her he was a walking dead man. He was an empty shell inside, existing but not living, functioning but not caring about anything. He would have destroyed himself months earlier but he had sworn an oath to her that he wouldn't harm himself. She had begged him to continue because she couldn't bear the thought of him dying. And all he cared about was her happiness. He had sworn his very existence to her well-being. He was grateful simply to have known her affection for a brief while; to experience her love was more than he could ever have asked for. Holding her now, he felt complete. Nothing else mattered. At that moment, he didn't care if Mobile burned. He didn't care if half the world vanished. She was here, in his home, in his arms. She was where she belonged.

He had dreamed of this moment, fantasized about it. He'd wanted her here, in his house, in his bedroom since the moment he'd moved in. When René had bought this house six years earlier, he'd been drawn to this room. It looked out over his back garden and there was a balcony outside the big French doors. He'd made it his own and, as he'd become accustomed to while living in Spike's houses, he'd filled it with antiques and things of beauty. Now, holding her, he glanced, as he always did on entering this room, to the portrait hanging over the mantel. Baby, wrapped in white and bathed in golden light, stared back at him from the canvas. Jean had painted it years ago when she was still breathing and had caught the dichotomy of her nature somehow. He had also captured her golden eyes perfectly. René had fallen in love with it instantly, rather as he had fallen in love with her as she held his dying body in a deserted alley in the Vieux Carré. Jean had given it to René after he'd become master of the city and moved into this house. It and the portrait of himself that hung in his study, the one Baby had painted only last year, were his second-most-prized possessions. The portrait Baby'd done was the only thing he'd kept from his time in Angelus' household.

His most prized possession was with him at all times. It was the gold ring she had given to him after the birth of their child so many years ago. He'd not taken it off since. When he'd become her consort he'd asked her to move it to his left hand. He was married to her and he'd wear the symbol proudly. Even when he'd known he'd never touch her again, he'd never considered removing that ring.

A breeze blew in, heavy with moisture and the scent of gardenias. He had tubs of them placed on his balcony where they'd bloom all summer and long into the fall, the scent wafting in on the hot night air. The smell helped him relax at night and sleep during the day. He placed a kiss atop Baby's head, breathing in the scent of her hair, identical to the smell of the flowers that filled his room. He placed her gently on his bed, reluctant to release her. She obviously felt the same way because her arms clung to him and only slipped away when he stood.

He cupped her cheek with one strong hand and stared into her wolven eyes. "I want you, m' Bébé doux. I want to hold you and touch you and take away that pain you felt for so long, take away this pain I felt. I want it to go away forever."

She reached up for him. "Then make me not hurt, my René. Make us both not hurt."

He kissed her hands and blessed his sire for sanctioning their love, for allowing them these precious hours together. Spike was not willing to share her constantly-God knew René could understand that; Rene didn't want to share her at all-but Spike was willing to allow Baby and René to be together occasionally, to express their love for each other on rare occasions. René had not been able to believe it when Baby had told him of Spike's decision. He'd never imagined that Spike would be willing to share even the smallest amount of Baby's affections. René had never dreamed that he'd ever be able to hold her again. And to hold her without guilt, without betraying his sire, to hold her with nothing to sully the love he felt for her: his heart nearly burst at the thought. He knew it would be Hell when he had to let her return to New Orleans but for however long she was here, he'd have Heaven. Hell could wait.

René toed off his boots and stripped away his clothes and Baby's shoes before stretching out beside her. He propped himself up on one elbow so he could simply look at her. He reached out and caressed her face, her ear, her hair, not saying anything, simply looking at her. She returned his gaze with those solemn golden eyes he so often dreamed of. "I'm afraid, René. I'm afraid I'll hurt you again."

René pulled her hand to his lips. "You not hurting me, cher. I told you; you making me feel alive." He pressed his lips to her wrist. "I not lying when I tell you that this is the only time I feel real anymore." He looked up at her through long black lashes. "For the last six months, I was dead. I was worse than dead. Dead would have been an improvement on what I was. I didn't start to live again 'til I touched your hand. When you tell me you be mine, then I start living again. Hell, I think maybe my heart's beating."

She placed her hand over the mark she had made on his chest. "I think maybe so. I think maybe mine is, too." She looked into those tropical blue eyes. "Love me, René," she whispered. "Love me the way I love you."

He covered her lips with his, tasting her as he began divesting her of clothes. He felt her hands play over the planes of his back, his shoulders, sensed the love and need flowing from her into him and returning with his own need and love to her. Their bond was still strong; it was every bit as strong as it had been the day she claimed him for the first time, as strong as when she'd reclaimed him after coming back from Hell. René knew there was nothing short of true death that could weaken that bond. She might have given him his freedom, might have abdicated the mastery she'd had over him, but he was still her consort. He might no longer be her slave but he was still her husband. The scar on his chest and the ring on his hand were outer representations of that. He was and always would be bound to her.

She felt what he was feeling and pulled her mouth from his long enough to murmur, "M' mari. M' amant." René moaned. Her husband and her lover. Yes, he was both and he would be as long as he walked the Earth. He kissed her snowy throat, longing to mark its pristine whiteness, to make her his forever. He knew it was impossible. Spike would not allow that. He'd separate them forever if René did such a thing. And regardless of what René wanted, regardless of what she wanted, she belonged to Spike and would until she died again. And now she was so indelibly linked to Spike that their lives were one; when one of them died, so would the other. René wished he shared that bond. He had no wish to live in a world without her. He had promised her that he would live as long as she did but he knew that the instant he felt her die again, he would end his own existence. True, he was Redeemed and bound for Heaven while she was still Unforgiven and they would not be together in death. However, he knew that Heaven would be incomplete without her; it wouldn't be Paradise. So he hoped that he would be allowed to follow her wherever she was bound. He would see to it somehow. In life, unlife, or death, he would find a way to be with her. His love, his pain, his joy all poured through their link, binding them ever closer. Her feelings, equal to his, poured back into him, forming a loop so powerful, so intense, that their feelings flowed out beyond them to his childer and hers. Their love was so strong it filled the house.

René's joy was boundless as he moved down her body, savoring the lushness he'd been denied these past months, had been denied for so many years. She moaned and gasped beneath his touch, beneath his mouth. Her hands smoothed and stroked his hair while her sweet voice spoke to him of her love and his beauty. Those sounds, her voice, were sweeter to him than the wind in the tall pines or the call of the whippoorwill deep in the night. Nothing had ever sounded so right to him. Nothing had ever felt so right as loving her like this. Nothing could compare to the bliss he felt in being able to touch her freely. This was all he had ever wanted. He continued to kiss, caress, and love his way down her pale beloved form, settling finally between her legs, midnight hair stark against moon-white thighs. The taste of her was intoxicating and he nearly climaxed simply from the scent of her arousal. With tongue, lips, and teeth he drove her closer and closer to oblivion. She called out for him, begging for him to enter her, to make them one. René could refuse her nothing. He locked his mouth on hers, kissing her deeply as he sank into her.

Baby cried out at the sheer feel of him inside her. She had craved this for such a long time. She had needed him for so long. The love she felt for him was sometimes overwhelming. It swept all other emotions and needs before it, leaving only uncontrollable hunger for this one man. There was no one who could substitute for René, no one who could compare. Her body cried out for his touch, her heart cried out for his love. He felt so perfect inside her, so right. When he began to move, slowly, lovingly, punctuating each stroke with words of love so filled with his devotion that she could hardly bear it, her heart melted.

"Je t'aime. Je te besoin." I love you. I need you. His voice was so beautiful, filling her soul the way he filled her body.

"Tu es m' coeur, René," she told him. You are my heart, René. "Je t'aimerai toujours." I will always love you. Each word, spoken in the French that he had taught her, was an awl, carving and shaping him into something fit only to love her. The fire that burned through them consumed everything, leaving only that love, that need, that desperate passion for each other. Deep within her, she knew she was meant to be here, like this, with him forever. Their hearts were one though her soul belonged to another. The pain of that knowledge was all-consuming. The agony of needing both of them gnawed within her. It ate at the corners of her mind, threatening her sanity, daily pushing her ever closer to madness. Only the feel of his lips on hers, of his strong body thrusting into her, could stave off that madness. He was her sanity, her only source of serenity. Only in his arms could she find peace.

"Tu es m' âme," he told her. You are my soul. René felt as though his very being was melding into hers. "Tu es m' salut. You are my salvation. He could feel her, light and darkness swirling around him. "Je vis seulement pour tu, m' ange." I live only for you, my angel. He would die for her. He would die without her. "Ma vie est pour tu." My life is yours.

His words sent her tumbling into that void where only the two of them existed, where only the two of them mattered. The earth could tumble into the sun and burn, the universe implode, and it would not matter as long as he was holding her like this when it happened. "Je t'aime, René!" she cried. "Oh God, René. I love you. I love you, René!" She climaxed, calling out her love for him.

René spiraled into orgasm with her, calling her name, exclaiming her beauty and his devotion as he emptied himself--body, heart, and mind--into her. He knew now what Heaven was like; Heaven was holding her, loving her, freely, openly, and without remorse.

He lay against her gasping for unneeded breath, feeling her doing the same. Each breath, each movement of her body was precious, and he locked the memory of them away safely to be taken out and relived when she returned to her other husband. René wrapped himself around Baby, settling her comfortably against his body, his arms and legs clasping her to him, determined to hold her for as long as he could. For the moment, he would pretend that time didn't exist and he could hold her like this forever. Baby held him just as tightly, her face buried in his chest, and wept for joy and for what couldn't be while René murmured soft words of love and adoration into her hair.

~~~~~

Cordelia held Jean tightly as he gasped and fought against the emotions flowing unrestrained through his link to his brother. "I never understood," he panted. "I never knew what René meant when he said he could feel her when she was with Spike. Oh God, how did he live through it?"

Cordelia shushed and soothed him. "Jean, honey. Shh." She stroked his hair, trying to give him some peace. "How did he? He had to have done something."

Jean buried his face in her shoulder. "He had me. I loved him through it. Kept him from thinking about it. Kept him from feeling it so much." He gasped again. "Mon Dieu!" He fought for unneeded breath. "He had me."

Cordelia pulled his head from her and forced him to look at her. "And you have me." He stared at her in disbelief. "Let me help you, Jean. Let me be the one to see you through this."

"Cordelia," he breathed. "You would do that? For me?"

She kissed him softly. "Oh, Jean. Of course I would. These weeks with you and René, haven't you seen? Don't you know? I love you as much as I love him." She smiled. "Now stop being stupid. It's not like it's a hardship or anything." Her smile turned to a grin. "You are the best lover in south Louisiana after all." She thought for a moment. "And south Alabama, since you're here now and not in Louisiana."

Jean actually laughed. "Sweet, sweet Cordelia. How did we ever get along without you?" He didn't protest when she kissed him. He didn't protest when her hands began to strip away his clothes. He handed himself over to her warmth and affection. "Cordelia, oh cher. You are so…" He had no words for the depths of her goodness. "Oh m' belle doux, I never knew I was so blessed. Merci, petite belle. Merci." He surrendered himself to her gentle care and found peace and forgetfulness in her arms.

Cordelia willingly loved Jean through the night and the next day, offering her body and love as a buffer against the pain that would have otherwise consumed him. And in caring for him, she found her own peace. For the first time in months, Cordelia slept without nightmares and awoke without tears. Looking down at the Prince of New Orleans, sleeping soundly in her embrace, she realized that she would be able to live, she would be able to find her path again. She kissed Jean's sleeping lips. "No, Jean, my precious Jean. Thank you." She settled him more comfortably against her amble bosom and drifted off into the most serene sleep she'd had since Angelus had reappeared in her life.

Chapter Four - "Purple Rain"

Purple Rain

I never meant to cause you any sorrow.
I never meant to cause you any pain.
I only wanted one time to see you laughing.
I only wanted to see you laughing in the purple rain.

Purple rain, purple rain,
Purple rain, purple rain,
Purple rain, purple rain,
I only wanted to see you bathing in the purple rain.

I never wanted to be your weekend lover.
I only wanted to be some kind of friend. Hey
Baby, I could never steal you from another.
It's such a shame our friendship had to end.

Purple rain, purple rain.
Purple rain, purple rain,
Purple rain, purple rain,
I only wanted to see you underneath the purple rain.

Honey, I know, I know, I know times are changing.
It's time we all reach out for something new. That means you, too.
You say you want a leader, but you can't seem to make up your mind.
I think you better close it and let me guide you to the purple rain.

Purple rain, purple rain,
Purple rain, purple rain,
If you know what I'm singing about up here, come on raise your hand.
Purple rain, purple rain.
I only want to see you, only want to see you in the purple rain.

Mobile, Alabama
Wednesday 3:43 p.m.
October 3, 2018

Baby knocked hesitantly before opening the door to the study. Sam had frowned hard enough to permanently add a few wrinkles to his face when she had asked him where she could find Cordelia. It was obvious he didn't want to tell her; however, Baby was still his matriarch and an arched eyebrow and an imperious look got her the answer to her question.

"Cordy?" she said softly as she looked at her former friend.

The expression on Cordelia's face was far from welcoming. "You through creating havoc for the day? Ready to run off and leave me to pick up the pieces again?"

"I…"

"How bad is René?" Cordy snarled. She didn't know which she wanted to do more: hit the other woman or cry. "Is there anything left for me to put back together?"

Baby took a deep breath. She had known this was going to be difficult but she really wasn't prepared for the depth of Cordelia's anger. She wondered if there was any way she could have been prepared. "René's fine. And he's going to stay that way."

"You're damned right he is!" Cordelia favored her now-rival with a hard look. "I'm going to see to it. In fact, I'm going to start right now." She sat up straighter. "You need to leave. The longer you stay the worse it's going to be when you leave for good. So you need to just leave now. These temporary little trysts are killing René."

"I'm not leaving, Cordy," Baby countered. "This isn't temporary. This is forever." She didn't need Cordelia to tell her how their love affair had affected René. Baby knew all too well what her husband felt when they were apart. "There will times when I'm gone for a while but I'll always come back. This is...." She stopped. "I didn't come here to argue with you, Cord."

"Then why the hell did you come? To make us all miserable again?" She wasn't going to let Baby see how hurt she was, she swore to herself. She clenched her teeth but the words came out anyway. "To make sure I'm not getting any better?"

Baby hung her head. She knew Cordelia was bitter and had every reason to be. It didn't give her any satisfaction to see it. "I came to apologize. I came to tell you I'm sorry," she said softly.

Cordelia looked at her in shock. That was the last thing she had expected.

Baby rushed on, afraid Cordy would stop her before she could say anything else. "I didn't get a chance back in New Orleans. There was that thing with the Watchers and then you were gone. And...." She couldn't look at her former friend. "I just wanted you to know I'm sorry. I..." She shook her head. "You were my best girlfriend, my lover, and I... What I did was inexcusable. I just wanted you to know I'm sorry I slept with your husband. I'm sorry I did that to you." She took another breath. "And I wanted to thank you for taking care of my husband when I couldn't. René told me what you've done for him. From the sound of it, he wouldn't have made it without you. I can't ever thank you enough. If something happened to him..." She couldn't finish. "I'll stay out of your way. I'll have René get me a house somewhere nearby. You won't have to see me." She opened the door, more than ready to leave the room and escape the aura of her former friend's resentful anger.

Cordy stood quickly. "Oh no. You don't get off that easy. Get your ass back in here." She crossed her arms and waited. Cordelia was used to being obeyed, even by the Queen of New Orleans.

Baby turned back reluctantly. "I told you I didn't come here to fight with you."

"I heard you. And I heard your apology. Don't expect me to forgive you. It's not gonna happen. I could care less about you or your apologies." She paused for just a second to catch her breath. Her chest hurt.

Baby tilted her head quizzically and for a moment, Cordelia had a flash of memory. She quickly repressed the vision of Baby with her head tilted just that way as she considered a suggestion of Cordy's the first time they had made love. Cordy wouldn't think about the fact that this woman had been her best friend and lover for over a decade. She'd been betrayed and it hurt more than she'd imagined possible. It wasn't the first time someone she loved had done that to her, but still it hurt and she had to find a way to get past that. She just didn't know how she was going to do it.

Baby's expression softened. She understood Cordelia as well as anyone on earth. "You cared so little that the whole time I was insane you took care of me. You were kind and loving and better to me than anyone except René." She smiled gently. "You have every right to hate me, Cord, but I know you don't. And you know what? That just makes what I did all the worse. I was awful and you still care about me."

Cordy ignored the self-deprecating smile. She knew all of Baby's tricks and quirks and wasn't about to be sucked in by those big golden eyes. It would be too easy. She could say all was forgiven and go upstairs right now and let the other woman wrap her in those pale arms. Hell, she could half-way offer forgiveness and Baby would offer any solace Cordy desired right here and right now. That was what always happened; Baby misbehaved and however bad it was, everyone forgave her. There was sex and love and that was supposed to make up for everything. Not this time, she promised herself. This time there were consequences and they wouldn't be passed over. She knew she couldn't live with herself if she let this hurt be buried under the sex that the vampires used to get them past everything. She also knew that Baby knew her better than any woman alive or dead did and would know if she was lying to the vampiress or to herself. "Okay, I don't hate you. I love you. And you hurt me. You were my friend!" It actually felt good to say it, to stop pretending that Baby was some 'other' woman. It wasn't just Angel that had cheated on Cordelia. "I know all about the demony thing and that it's not separate from your soul."

"I never lied about that. I always said they were the same," Baby said softly.

Cordy nodded. "Yes, you did. I should have listened." She thought for a moment. "So, you were what? Out of control? Drunk? That's how Angel described it. Like being drunk."

Baby thought for a moment. "I guess so. That's as good a description as any. You know what you're doing. And part of you knows its wrong. But you don't care. You just do it because it's what you want to do. The rest, how other people feel, how part of you feels, what it all means, it doesn't matter. You are out of control." She shivered. "I hated that part of it."

"I imagine you did. You were always a control freak." Cordy shuffled some of the papers on René's desk, just to have something for her hands to do. "Angel said... well, Angel said a lot. About what he did to René. About what he did to you."

Baby shivered again and flinched at the memories Cordy's statement conjured up.

Cordy saw it this time. "So I take it you're not interested in him anymore."

"Oh, you got that right. Angel... Angel gives me the raging heebie-jeebies now." Baby paced for a moment. "I can't even be in the same room with him alone without wanting to climb the walls." Angel had always frightened her but now it was more of a deep, unrestrained terror. She couldn't control that either.

Cordy snorted. "And so you bitch at him the whole time."

Baby nodded. "Yeah, pretty much." She couldn't let Angel or anyone else know how badly he scared her. Or how badly she sometimes scared herself. Angel was a constant reminder of what she was capable of.

"You used to do that. I thought it was because you hated him." Cordy looked down at her manicured nails hoping for a bit of chipped paint to distract her. The polish was perfect. "I wasn't smart enough to figure out it was because you wanted him."

Baby closed her eyes. "Cordy!"

Cordelia held up her hand. "It's okay. I was fooling myself. The clues were all there; I just didn't want to see them. So some of this is my fault. Some of it is yours. And most of it is Angel's." She thought for a moment. "My one expedition into Clueless-ville." She considered her ex-friend for a moment. "And that reminds me. When did you become one of the clueless?"

"Huh?" Baby, who was used to Cordelia's tangents and stream-of-consciousness mode of speech long before they ever met face to face, didn't make that particular leap with Cordy.

"See! Clueless. You used to be more with the program. Now you can't even find the channel. Good God, you can't even find the television." Cordy sighed. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. You should be telling Jean you're sorry for sleeping with his husband! He's the one that spent all last night and this morning feeling your little reconciliation party."

Baby sat down hard on the sofa. "Oh my God. I never even thought of Jean!"

Cordy looked at her sadly. "I know. You never think anymore." She caught Baby's eyes and held them. "What the hell happened to you? You used to care. The rest of us used to matter to you. Now... now I don't think anyone matters. You only care about what you want right now. You don't think about anything or anyone else." She turned away. She couldn't face what her friend had become. "You've been that way now since... I don't know."

Cordy didn't see the effect her words had or the arrested look on Baby's face. "Since I died. The first time," the vampiress whispered.

"Yes. I guess so." Cordy sounded tired. She just wanted to go back a few years and make it all okay. Wasn't that what Spike had said he'd done? Why couldn't she have that same option? "I guess you've been different ever since you became a vamp."

Baby had gone perfectly still. Cordy frowned at her. "What??"

"You're right. And I have been clueless. Jesus, I'm stupid sometimes."

"No argument here." Cordy frowned again. "You're thinking of something. No. Never mind. I so don't want to know." She stood. She couldn't do this anymore. She was too tired, it hurt too much, and she didn't want to think about what was or might have been anymore. However, there was one final item that had to be dealt with before she was done with this conversation. "Look. There's one thing you need to understand. If you hurt Jean again, I'll kick your ass." She left without another word.

~~~~~

"What's got you all balled up?" Jack asked as he sat down on the couch beside Baby. "Why are you brooding?" He took her unresisting hand in his and began to play with her rings.

"I don't brood," she answered without looking at him.

"Of course you brood. I think brooding is a genetic trait in Clan Aurelius and House Roxton excels at it." He grinned at her.

She smiled back. Jack could always make her see the trivial nature of whatever she sometimes thought important. "Yeah. I guess we do. What are you going to do when you become one of us?"

His grin broadened. "I already brood wonderfully, I'll have you know. Right up there with the best of them." No one could have resisted that smile.

She was no exception. She laughed. "Jesus, Jack. How did I ever live without you?"

"Poorly," he said with a smirk. "Now seriously, what's wrong?"

"I'm fucking stupid," she answered.

"Occasionally," he agreed pleasantly. "Is this about René?"

She shook her head. "No, for once this isn't about René. This is about Jean." She saw his expression turn uncomfortable, his fingers going still against hers. She took her companion's hand in her own. "I know you spent a lot of time with Jean when I was... away. It's okay. I think it's great, in fact." She smiled at him. "You don't have to worry about me interfering. I told you when I made you my companion that I didn't expect to be your one and only. In fact, I'm glad I'm not. I want you to have some fun. Have other people you can turn to. God knows I'm not reliable." She kissed him quickly. She never had to lie to Jack. She could tell him anything. He accepted her faults as easily as he accepted her good points.

His smile returned. "I wouldn't say that. You've never let me down." He faced her squarely, the way he always had. "I like Jean. I respect him. I can't say that about many people." He made a tiny motion with his head as if to say 'in for a penny, in for a pound.' "And he's one hell of a lover. I never imagined I'd like being with a man. Jean changed my mind."

She smiled. "I hear he has that effect on a lot of people." She shifted the topic of the conversation. "I can't ask this of anyone else, Jack. They'll turn me down or snarl at me. But I need to talk to Jean. I desperately need to talk to Jean. Can you find him? Can you convince him to come see me?"

Jack thought for a moment. "All right. The two of you have to talk sometime. It might as well be now." He stood. "I'm more than fond of Jean but you know my loyalty lies with you. I won't presume to tell you what to do but could you just... go easy on him, okay?"

"Oh, I will, Jack." She smiled up at him. She knew a lot of people both within and without the family disliked Jack but she liked him more each day. His integrity appealed to her in ways she didn't think possible. Where it really counted, Jack Niemczyk was a good man. He was one of the two very good men in her life that she could be and always had been perfectly honest with. She needed to be honest with that other man now. "You see, I'm more than fond of Jean, too."

~~~~~

Jean stood beside his mother's chair. "Maman? You wanted me?" He was frightened. She had chosen to see him in one of René's parlors and the formal atmosphere increased Jean's unease. Of course, seeing her in René's bedroom would have been worse. Jean tried not to consider that.

She stared ahead without looking at him, her face frozen and still. He had seen that look on her face before, too many times for his comfort. Something had happened. Something momentous. "Maman?" What if she had decided to claim René completely? What if she didn't want to share? Jean had no doubts that René loved him but he also had no doubts that René would, however reluctantly, walk away from Jean if their mother asked it. She always had and always would come first in René's heart and mind. Jean had always known that.

When she spoke, his concerns were not eased. "Jean, I want tell you I'm sorry."

The fear he felt grew. She was going to take René away. He'd known it would happen one day. He had simply hoped he'd have longer before he lost everything that mattered. She continued with no sign of noticing his turmoil. "I know that Jack explained a little bit about why I'm here. About why Spike sent me to René."

Jean nodded. He was afraid to speak. He wasn't even sure he could.

She couldn't meet his eyes and continued to gaze sightlessly out the window. "I'm sorry about last night, about what happened. I should have come to you first. I didn't think. René and I should have talked to you before we…. Well, we should have been more thoughtful. You shouldn't have had to go through that." She took a deep breath. She had promised herself she wouldn't hold anything back from Jean. "Did Jack tell you how long I'd be staying? How long Spike said I could?"

Jean shook his head. "No, he didn't." Jean had trouble forming words. "For how long?"

Her smile widened and she sniffed before answering. "For as long as I need."

"Mon Dieu!" Jean dropped to his knees beside her chair. He took several short, quick breaths, wondering if vampires ever fainted. "Then you're here forever."

She nodded. "There will be times when I'll go home to your daddy but I imagine I'll spend a fair amount of my time here. Spike says he knows that René and I were meant to be together. Something got crossed somewhere. I was born in the wrong dimension. René was born too late and he died too young. Your father and I fell in love. The list of things that happened to keep René and me apart is too long to go into. But Spike thinks I'll never be… complete without René." She reached out to touch him and he pulled away. She let her hand drop back into her lap. "Just like you'll never be complete without him." She smiled. "Jean, stop thinking what you're thinking. I'm not here to take him away. I'm here to love him. I'm here to make him happy for a change. And the one thing that makes him happy even when I'm not here is you."

He stared at her in wonder and trepidation. "I don't understand."

She sniffed. "I'm not surprised. I can't seem to think or speak coherently lately, Jean. I'm making a mess out of this. Story of my life these days. I'm saying that I think it's wonderful that you're René's husband. I'm glad he has you. You're good for each other. I'm asking you to share him with me."

Jean settled back onto his heels. "I always knew I'd have to do that. Even when you weren't here, when he thought he'd never see you again, I was sharing him with you."

She bowed her head. She'd never heard such bitterness in her son's voice. There was a world of hurt there that even she couldn't comprehend.

"You know it's always been that way." He looked at her with hard and knowing eyes. "I remember when he was turned. He asked if he could come back to be with you. Even then, it was all about you." He smiled cynically. "I've been sharing him with you since the first time I kissed him." He took a slow breath. "So, yeah, I'll share him with you. Mon Deiu, it's not like I have any choice."

"Jean! I'm so sorry." She reached for him but stopped short of touching him. "I never wanted it to be this way."

"You wanted?" he snarled. "It's always about what you want." Jean had given up worrying about her feelings. She didn't care about his, why should he care about hers?

She nodded. She understood why he was angry. "I know that." She sighed. "Do you know why I went to Hell, Jean?" She faced him squarely. "Selfishness. My great sin is selfishness. And I don't seem to be getting any better at mitigating it." She took a moment to really look at her son. He was thin and there were dark circles under his brown eyes. Spike had told her why Jean had left home. It was so like him to wear himself out completely and never say a word about needing anyone's help. She wanted to hold him, to help the way she used to.

"It's gotten worse, hasn't it? Since I came back? I'm not the same woman your father chose over the Slayer. I'm…" She paused for a moment, unsure how to explain to this precious man the changes that had occurred when she became a vampire. For all his demon state, Jean was the most warm and caring man she'd ever known. He wasn't like the rest of them and never had been. "I'm darker, harder. Not as warm as I should be. Not as kind as I should be. Not as patient or as giving as I should be." She turned away again, unable to face the growing knowledge in Jean's rich brown eyes. It hurt knowing his love and respect for her was dead and that any glimmer of the woman he'd once believed her to be awakened such hope in his eyes. "A while back you said that you wished Spike had left me dead…"

Jean protested immediately. "Baby! I don't…"

She didn't allow him to proceed. She knew that deep in his heart where maybe even he couldn't see it, he wished she was dead. "You were right. He should've. He should never have turned me. You'd all have been better off."

Jean shook his head. He actually had considered whether they would all be better off without her. He had known that if it was necessary, he'd be able to destroy her and no one would be the wiser. He had constructed the scenario carefully. A tragic misstep during a fight with some hostiles who Jean would then kill. No one would question him. Who could conceive of Jean having actually been the one to shove the stake through her dark heart? She'd be dead again and Jean could make sure they didn't bring her back. However, there were several reasons he had never carried out his plan. He loved Spike, and Spike would die when she did. Jean wasn't ready to lose his father. And there were other reasons. "No, René wouldn't. René would be dead." He remembered chaining his brother to the bed to keep him from taking a walk in the sunlight. "Don't pretend you don't know that's true." He suppressed his anger again. "I just wish I knew what happened to you."

"I'm a vampire," she said simply. "I'm a vampire and I haven't been controlling my demon."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "What? You're not out killing indiscriminately. You kill less now than you did before."

She looked at him again. "I'm like you that way, Jean. The bloodlust isn't any stronger in me now than it was when I was human. It may even be less. But there are other lusts besides the blood. You know how the demon just wants and takes what it wants and doesn't care about the consequences or who it hurts?" She saw that he did. "That's what I've been doing. I've been letting the demon rule." She smiled. "If it was killing instead of manipulation, we'd have spotted it years ago and Spike would have staked me by now. I don't think anymore, my Jean. I just react."

Jean thought for a few moments. He considered everything that had happened over the last three years. "Yes. That could be. You aren't the woman I remember. I'll grant you that."

"No, I'm not. But I will be. I'm gonna find myself again." She straightened and there was a resolution on her face that he hadn't seen for a long time. For a brief moment, Jean believed her. "And I'm gonna start by taking care of my favorite son." She wouldn't pretend that Jean hadn't always been her favorite. "It's not right for you to have to feel René and me together. That's wrong, and you of all people don't deserve that." She looked him straight in the eye. "You need to get away for a little while."

A knife sliced through Jean's insides. He'd known she'd send him away, find a way to get rid of him "No! Maman! Please. I can't…"

She knew what he was thinking. "I'm not exiling you, Jean. I just don't want you to hurt." This time she did touch him, forcing him to look at her. "Tell me how many times you can feel what you felt last night? How often can you go through that?"

He pulled away. "I don't know. I thought I'd die."

"Exactly." She forced his attention back to her and opened the seldom-used link that they had as brother and sister. He had to know she was telling the truth. It had been a long time since they had bonded but she could still feel him enough to get her point across. "I can teach René how to block that so you won't be hurt. It'll take me two or three weeks. You won't be hurt by what René and I do. Then you can come home and it won't matter if I'm here or not."

"It'll matter." He felt that she wasn't lying and he felt something else: love. He'd forgotten that she had loved him. He'd thought that affection long dead. Apparently, he'd been wrong. Despite her actions, she did still love him. "But I can live with that." He thought for a moment. "You did."

She nodded. "I still do. And that's the point." She had felt Jean's acceptance and knew he no longer feared she was trying to remove him from René's life. She also knew that Jean didn't need to go somewhere alone and brood for two weeks. "Jean, I need you to do something for me." Her voice was soft and expressionless and worried Jean.

"Anything, Maman. You know that." He was still her son and she was still matriarch of his house. And what he'd just felt from her had renewed some of his confidence in who and what she was.

She lifted her eyes from her lap and stared into the distance. "You and I will never be complete without René." Jean could tell just how close to tears she was. "And your father will never be complete without Buffy."

"NO!" Jean protested. He didn't want to think of Spike needing the Slayer the way Jean needed René. He didn't want to add another layer of complication to their lives.

She laid a hand on his where it rested on the arm of her chair, bidding him be calm. She still didn't look at him. "It's true, Jean. I've known it all along. I've known it from the beginning. I deluded myself for a while. But Spike needs Buffy and he always has. He was meant to be with her the same way I was meant to be with René. He'll never be whole without her." She finally turned to look at him and a single tear escaped and slid down her face. "And that's where you come in, my darling." She raised her hand to his cheek. "You're the only one who can help your father. He's miserable; I can feel it. I can't go on here knowing he's hurting that way. I can't do that to him. I know René needs me-I could feel his pain burning through our link. I felt it every day, all day long. And God knows, I need René. But I will NOT hurt your father any more than I already have. I adore Spike and I always will. But I'm not what he needs anymore, Jean. He needs someone… alive. I can't be what he needs anymore." The tears running down her face seemed to come from Jean's own heart. "I thought Anne would fill that role, but he needs something more. I can help him find what he needs. I can make him happy again. I so desperately want him to be happy again! Just like I want you to be happy again."

The salt scent of her tears assailed Jean and he felt his own eyes fill.

"You can help me, Jean. Will you? You won't like it but it's what Spike needs."

He nodded. He would cut his own heart out if it would ease the pain that had enveloped Spike for the past two years. "I will."

She closed her eyes and sighed. She caressed the side of his face and eased his head into her lap. "I love you, Jean. Never doubt that. I will do my damnedest to never hurt you again." She ran her hand over his hair. "You're the best of us all." Maybe she could regain some of the respect he'd once had for her. There had been a time when they were as close as any two people could be. There were years when she, Jean, and René had been nearly inseparable. Her sons had been her companions and her friends. Weeks would pass when she had true conversation with no one but her three children and Spike. When René had gone, there had still been Jean Claude. They had shared everything. In some ways she had been closer to Jean than she'd been to Spike. She missed those days with a despair she could not begin to describe. She missed being tied to Jean so deeply that she hadn't needed to even speak for him to know what she felt and needed and vice versa. She missed her dearest friend.

She sensed that he felt that loss, too. Maybe there was hope for them after all. Maybe they could find each other again.

She and Jean were simply together for a few minutes, Jean kneeling with his head resting on her thighs while she stroked his hair. When she finally spoke her voice was weary. "Take your father to Sunnydale. Take him to see the Slayer. Tell him it's what I want. Make him get out of that house. I won't have him sitting here, brooding over me and your brother. He needs to talk to Buffy. They need to get to know each other." She drew a long breath. "I don't know if anything will develop between them. She's a different person than the one he loved so long ago. But I think they both need the chance to find each other." She bent down and kissed Jean's temple. "Do this for me and then come home to me and René. Where you belong."

Jean wrapped his arms about her legs and thought of his brother. There was an aching emptiness within Jean that cried out for René. He knew that Baby felt that same ache even though she had Spike and he knew René felt that pain even more deeply. René ached for Baby the way Jean ached for René. And Jean would do anything to ease René's pain. "I will do this. I don't want Papa to hurt anymore. And I don't want René to hurt. Ever. Stay with René, Maman, he needs you. I will take care of Papa and see that he does what he needs to do."

Baby pulled him up until she could slide from the chair and kneel with him. She kissed him deeply, pouring the love she felt for him into that kiss. It was long minutes before she pulled away. "Oh Jean. I wish things had been different. I wish René had loved you instead of me. You deserve it more. It would have been so perfect! You and René and Spike and me. We would all have been so happy."

Jean brushed one of her tears away with his thumb. "But that's not what happened and we can't change it. So, we'll fix it as best we can, yeah?" He kissed her gently. "Because you and me, we always fix things, don't we?"

She nodded and wrapped her arms around him. He sat back and drew her into his lap. "Yes, we do, Jean. We always fix everything."

He held her close and was glad for the first time in a very long while that his father had turned her. "We do. And we'll fix this too. As best we can. We'll make sure Papa and René are happy again." He settled her against his chest. At the cost of his own heart and a large chunk of hers, they would see that the two people they both cared the most about were happy again. And then they'd find a way to mend their own hearts. Jean had seen her work near-miracles with his help. Who could say they couldn't do it again? "We'll make it all right."

Chapter Five - "The Distance"

The Distance

There's a train out in the distance, destination still unknown,
Far away where no one's waiting, so far from home, so far from home.

There's a rose outside your window. The first snow is falling down.
Like that lonesome whistle blowing
I keep on going, keep on going....

Close your eyes and see my blue skies breaking through these dark clouds;
You are the light.
In my mind I see your red dress and your arms are reaching through the night.
I'll never give up the fight.
I'll go the distance.

There's a thread that runs between us pulling 'cross this great divide.
It's only there for the believers.
Don't stop believing, don't stop believing.

Close your eyes and see my blue skies breaking through these dark clouds.
You are the light.
In my mind I see your red dress and your arms are reaching through the night.
I'll never give up the fight,
I'll go the distance, I'll go the distance.

There's a never-ending story that begins with you and I.
Like the rose outside your window
Don't let it die. Don't let it die.

Close your eyes and see my blue skies breaking through these dark clouds.
You are the light.
In my mind I see your red dress and your arms are reaching through the night.

Close your eyes and see my blue skies breaking through these dark clouds.
You are the light.
In my mind I see your red dress and my arms are reaching through the night.
I'll never give up the fight.
I'll go the distance.

New Orleans, Louisiana
Saturday, 10:00 pm
December 29, 2018

The wizened demon considered his new associate. "You're sure you understand this?'

The vampire growled. "Course I understand it. I'm not slow." He grinned. "I destroy the Pride and get you Connor Chase-Angel. That's simple enough." He thought for a moment, considering the old demon carefully. "You know, I'm just a vampire and you some great and powerful wizard, how come you can't do it yourself?"

Anger radiated from Mörderer de Realitäten. "Believe me, I would if I could. Pryce, the Wiccan, and their damned voodoo priestess have concocted wards against anything I could send against them. I've tried." He ground his teeth in frustration before turning speculative eyes on the tall man. "But you are a different matter. They'll never suspect anything and their wards won't affect you at all." A gleam appeared in his rheumy eyes. "They'll never suspect a thing," he repeated. "You're one of them, after all."

"Yeah. It won't be hard to get close enough to dust Spike," the vampire agreed. "You just hold up your end of this bargain, wizard. You separate them. You give her her own life." Yellow swirled through his eyes. "You fix it where I kill can the lord of the Pride." René smiled unpleasantly, his teeth showing sharp and white. "I'm gonna get Baby forever. She gonna finally be mine alone."

~~~~~

New Orleans, Louisiana
Thursday, 11:53 pm
January 3, 2019

Baby cursed and wiped at the demon blood coating her face. "I can't see a damn thing!" A stream of invective strong enough to melt steel flowed from her rosebud lips. "Jean! René!" She snarled when she heard René chuckle. "God damn it! It's not funny!" She felt a cloth placed in her hands and using it, she was finally able to clear the thick goo from her eyes.

Jean laughed at the neon pink strains covering the garment. "That's one shirt that the cleaners won't be able to deal with, frčre."

René shrugged and took the crumpled bit of silk from his mother. "I didn't like it much anyway."
He tossed it behind a tomb and stretched. Jean was quite appreciative of the view. René was nice to look at regardless of what he wore but René bare-chested was beyond nice. René was unconcerned by the loss of his shirt. "Color wasn't too good for me. Made me look sallow," he observed.

Jean laughed again. He was often amused by how seriously René took his appearance. "You know, sometimes you're just a little bit gay."

It was René's turn to laugh. He grabbed his consort and kissed him resoundingly. Holding Jean close, he said, "Like now, you mean?"

"Yeah, like now." Jean's grin lit the cemetery.

Their father shook his head. "I think we're well aware of just how homosexual the two of you are and aren't." He vaulted atop one of the mausoleums with panther-like agility. "Now if you can control your libidos for half a minute we can finish this hunt and return to the house."

René looked at his brother/husband. "Look who's talking about controlling their libidos," he said incredulously.

Jean snorted. "Oui. How many time have we waited around while he was busy with Maman?"

René rolled his eyes. "More than I can count, and I'm good at math!"

Spike ignored them both and continued scanning the necropolis. "Odd. I don't see any more of those demons. That report said there was a whole nest here." He leapt down gracefully, landing in the midst of his family.

"There is. Three nests of them, in fact." Spike stared in shock at the man who stepped so nonchalantly from a tomb. It was René. Spike glance quickly behind him. René was standing four feet behind Spike next to Jean, his eyes huge. The vampires stared at the apparition, their gazes swinging from one René to the other.

"There's plenty of demons. More than even you can handle." The newly-revealed René signaled and dozens of Quoin demons burst from the muddy ground, a ripe crop of dragon's teeth, sharp claws and sharper teeth reaching for the four vampires. Overwhelmed and surrounded with no opportunity to escape, they had no choice but to fight for their unlives.

The last think Spike saw before unconsciousness claimed him was René standing over Jean's motionless body, protecting his consort, fighting against himself.

~~~~~

Spike awoke chained securely to a bare wall. He snarled. That seemed to be happening far too often this century. "Bloody hell."

"'Bout time you woke up."

He looked at his son and saw something he had never before seen in René's eyes: hate. There was nothing but abhorrence in those ocean-colored eyes. "Who the hell are you?"

The other man laughed coldly and said, "You know the answer to that. I'm your son."

Spike felt a blast of resentment and loathing such as he'd never experienced through his family link. Even Philip hadn't hated him so deeply. He gasped from the force of it but he also recognized the sender. This really was René. Yet Spike could see and feel René, another René, chained to the wall opposite.

"Liar!" the René shackled to the wall spat. Spike could feel this childe as well and knew this was the René he had known, resented, loved, and competed with for over eighteen years.

Their captor laughed. "Oh, I telling the truth." He glanced from his duplicate to the Master. "You ask him. Spike'll tell you who I am."

"A doppelganger," Spike said unhesitantly. "Like the duplicate of me that stayed in Sunnydale and never met your mother," he explained. It hadn't taken more than an instant for Spike to figure out what was happening. "Somewhere in the past, after I turned you, the dimensions split." He looked at the son who loved him. "I'm sorry, René, but that is you."

"No," René countered forcefully. "That can't be me. I could never hurt Jean the way he did." His jaw was clenched so tightly a muscle there jumped constantly.

"You mean this?" His doppelganger squatted, grabbed a handful of Jean's thick brown hair, and lifted the older vampire's head. Jean was unconscious but his battered and bloody face was already healing. The replica growled at the sight of the mark on Jean's neck. "You married him. A man! That's disgusting." He let Jean's head drop to the concrete floor with a definite thud. Jean's consort flinched. "You're right. Ain't no way you and me are the same person." The duplicate curled his lip in revulsion. "There ain't no way I'd ever take a man as consort. I ain't no fucking faggot." He stood, rubbing his hand on his jeans as though soiled. "Glad I killed him years ago, me." His smile was ugly. "Looks like I get to do it again. He'll do fine for the sacrifice."

René launched himself at his duplicate, snarling and growling, only to be jerked short by the chains that bound him to the wall. He couldn't stand the thought of Jean being hurt, and to see him injured and bleeding at the hands of someone who looked exactly like René was driving René insane. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around his duplicate's neck and squeeze until the other man's head came off. He cursed long and fluently in a mix of Cajun French and English.

While his captor was distracted, Spike tested his own restraints. They were strong and unyielding. He snarled. His jailer laughed at his efforts. "You might as well calm down. You not going nowhere." He smiled coldly. "You gonna get to see me kill off your family before I kill you this time."

Spike watched with a cold hand clenched about his heart as the doppelganger unlocked a large metal cage and knelt next to Baby's unmoving body. Spike had searched out and located his consort as soon as he awakened and been very pleased that she was still alive. He had been able to sense her even though she was unconscious. She lay on the cold floor but seemed unhurt otherwise.

Spike felt his René's fear skyrocket. Their feelings were nearly identical. They'd been through too much to lose her again. "Don't you touch her!" René fought against his chains.

His dark replica caressed Baby's cheek. "Oh, I gonna touch her." He voice radiated desire. "I finally gonna get to touch her any time I want. She's mine now."

"The hell she is!" Spike snarled. He felt his wife's intent a second before she sank long fangs into the hand that had been stroking her hair. He'd known she was feigning unconsciousness but had been careful not to think about that knowledge in case he give her away to their captor. Now, as she kicked out at the man who so resembled her consort, her other husband couldn't help but smile. One small boot landed squarely in the false René's privates and Baby scrambled for the door. She made it and swung the door closed, but her adversary caught it at the final moment, preventing it locking. His strength was superior to hers and he pushed the door open so forcefully she flew half way across the room, landing hard on her back.

The other René was on her in an instant, pulling her up by the upper arm. He backhanded her across the face. Her teeth cut the inside of her cheek, sending blood spurting into her mouth. She spit blood and saliva directly in the face of her attacker. "That right there proves you're not René Beaumont," she said. "My René would never hit me."

"Your René's a weak, pussy-whipped piece of shit," her adversary grated. "I been finding out about all of you." He jerked her hard against his body. "That thing that looks like me lets you go your own way too much. He should've beat the shit out of you years ago and taught you how a woman's supposed to act." He smiled, and it was enough to turn her insides cold. "Don't worry; I'll take care of that. You learn real quick what I expect out of my woman." He slapped her again and when she fought back he slammed her into the bars of cage. He knotted his fist in her hair and smashed her face into the bars repeatedly. Spike and René both howled at the mistreatment of their spouse and threw themselves against their restraints. The chains and their anchors had been enchanted, though, and held against even the legendary strength of the two vampire lords. When the evil being that wore René's face dropped her, Baby sank to the floor with blood pouring from her forehead and nose. "That's better," he said as she sat unresisting at his feet. "Yeah, you gonna learn real quick, then you gonna make me a fine woman." He grinned at the two males trying so frantically to break free and reach her. "Oh quit worrying; I'm not gonna kill her. But she got to learn to behave. I can't have her running off on me the way she does on you two." He reached down and caressed her bruised cheek. "I love her. I always have. She's the reason I'm here." His teal eyes glowed for an instant. "Yeah, I still love her more than I thought I could love anything." He pulled her to her feet and bent to kiss her. Barely aware, she still managed to turn her head away. He laughed. "You still got spirit. That's good. You just got to learn not to use it on me." He grinned and kissed her abused cheek before driving his fist into her jaw, knocking her out. He shoved her back in her cage and locked the door. "I got work to do, cher, but then you and me gonna get to know each other again," he told her.

~~~~~

Spike watched the preparations the doppelganger René was making with increasing anxiety. Tiny, robed demons quickly and expertly painted a complex magical circle on the floor, set up braizers and candles, and began a nerve-racking chant. The evil version of René watched the proceedings carefully while he lounged against a wall. Spike had identified their location shortly after waking and was not encouraged when he realized they were at his old warehouse. Concerned by the increasing development of the area, and the increase in people in and around it, the family no longer used the structure and never visited it. It was highly unlikely that anyone would find them here. René was also smart enough to proceed quickly. It was doubtful that anyone had even noticed they were missing yet.

Spike glanced up to find the wicked version of his son watching him closely. "What?" Spike said with an arrogant tilt of his chin. "Can't find anything amusing to do?"

René laughed. Spike was beginning to hate that sound. "You'd rather die than ask what I'm doing, yeah?" He pushed off from the wall and strolled over to his father. "That's okay. I'll do the evil villain standard routine and tell you." He stopped just beyond Spike's reach. "I'm gonna give Baby her own life. Right now, she tied to you. I can't kill you without killing her. And I want her. So I gonna give her a life all her own and then I'm gonna kill you and that sorry excuse for me and take her back where I'm from." His smile was beautiful and chilled Spike to the core. "It simple."

Jean was awake and listening carefully, though Baby still lay insensible.

"How you gonna do that?" Spike's René asked. "You can't just create life." The hate in his eyes for his duplicate was overwhelming.

The evil one smiled. "No. I got to take it from someone," he said. He looked at Jean. "If I remember right, Saint Jean was always fond of his maman. Always said he'd be willing to die for her. I'm gonna give him that option."

"No!" René shouted.

That grating, vile laugh rang out again. "You got a better plan? Mine's pretty good. Kill him, kill you, kill Papa Dearest, take the woman. I get what I want and Spike hurts." He shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

René shook his head. "Well, at least you merciful."

"What you talking… damn, you right." The twin frowned unhappily. "I kill all you and he'll want to die. Fuck." He glared at his father. "I want him to suffer." He thought for a moment. "All right then. I still kill all you and take her but I'm gonna leave him here alone. He never could stand that."

Spike looked across the small office. "You shouldn't have done that, son."

His René shrugged. "Couldn't let him kill you, Papa. I just couldn't. 'Sides, as long a you alive, there's a chance you'll find her." He smiled. "Nice to know he's dumber than I am."

His smile grew when his doppelganger snarled angrily. "You fucking… alright. So you manipulated that one. Won't do you no good. He'll never find her. There's too many dimensions to search and I got a spell that'll hide us. He'll look forever." His eyes glowed. "I like that thought."

Spike smiled across at his René. Once more, his son had saved Spike's life. And René was correct; as long as Spike was alive, there was a chance that he could find Baby. He could feel her stirring slowly back to consciousness even now. He met his son's eyes and knew they shared a single thought: the family would survive. Somehow, some way, they would see to it that the family survived. And for René, Spike and Baby were the family. He couldn't allow this twisted version of himself to triumph. He would find some way to stop this.

His captor was distracted by one of the tiny demons for a few minutes. It seemed their preparations were complete. The replica looked at his double with a speculative gleam in his eyes. "You so all-fired heroic, let's see just how far you take it. I need a sacrifice. It's got to be you or Jean. I gonna let you pick. Hell, I'll even leave the others alive and just take Baby." He smiled. "So you gonna let the faggot die and you stay here to comfort your Papa? What's it gonna be? You or Jean Claude?

René grinned. "That's not hard. Me."

Jean shouted a protest.

"Cher, you think I could live after seeing you die, huh?" René sent a burst of pure love to his consort. "Frčre du Coeur, I'd be insane again if that happened."

Jean shook his head. "No, René. I can't live without you!"

"Yes, you can," René told him. "You have to. I need you to help Papa. You two can get Baby back from this monster." The look he exchanged with his lover extinguished the need for further words or arguments. Jean knew when René was set on a particular course and wouldn't be swayed. He felt his husband's love with an intensity he'd never experienced before. René wanted Jean to know just how much he cared and opened his heart and mind completely to his lover. "Besides, I be lost without you, you know that."

The monster laughed. "Now that about as sappy as anything I ever heard. Makes me glad to kill you." He shrugged. "Still, if that's what you want. Stupid choice if you ask me." A minion placed a stake in the hand he held out.

Spike stretched his chains as far as they would reach, allowing him to nearly but not quite reach his bound son. "Don't do this, René," he ordered softly.

René shook his head. "I'm sorry, Papa. Seems I made a habit of disobeying you. Couldn't let you die, Papa, any more than I could let Jean die." He pulled the fleur de lys ring from his hand and tossed it to his father. Spike caught it easily. "You take care of her now. She's all yours." Spike looked down at the bit of gold and onyx. He sensed what this ring meant to René. He placed it on his own hand and nodded.

The doppelganger began an incantation as Baby awoke and realized the danger her consort was in. She began a determined assault on the bars restraining her. Neither her fists, feet, nor words had any effect on the steel. René smiled sadly at her and Jean. He broadcast his love to both his spouses. "I see you in Heaven, m' frere. Je t'aime, belle ange. Toujours, je suis le vôtre."

Spike saw the stake raised high and pushed every ounce of pride and affection he felt to his son. He watched in horror as the stake was buried in René's consort mark. "I love you," he said proudly. "I always have."

"Papa," René whispered gratefully the instant before he turned to dust, taking a portion of Spike's heart with him. Baby's scream ended abruptly but Jean's screams filled the chamber, echoing from the walls, an auditory assault on René's executioners. Blood slicked the manacles holding his wrists where he had torn his skin trying to free himself, trying to reach René in time. It dripped steadily, the droplets splattering the gray floor around Jean's feet. René's dust gently settled, eddying in the drafts, seeking escape from their prison, disappearing forever save for the sprinkling that clung to Jean's blood and Spike's tears.

Chapter Six - "Love Me Back To Life"

Love me back to life

This world don't give you nothing it can't take away.
Everybody holding on to something.
Nobody wants to fade away.

No forgiveness on the streets of this town.
I left my patience at a traffic light.
There's no denying, I almost lost it.
Threw in the towel, too tired to fight.

Tonight I need you,
More than yesterday.
Tonight I need you.

Take me, touch me, hold me like you mean it.
Make me come alive.
Hurt me, heal me, come, and make me feel it.
Rescue me tonight.
Love me back to life.

These days I'd trade sight for feeling.
There are days my feeling's gone.
Can't figure out whose life I'm living.
I don't know right from wrong.

When I lost faith,
You found it and gave it back to me.
There's a new light on your halo; it took blind eyes to see...

That I need you
More than yesterday.
Yeah, I need you.

Take me, touch me, hold me like you mean it.
Make me come alive.
Hurt me, heal me, come, and make me feel it.
Rescue me tonight.
Love me back to life.

Take me,
Touch me,
Hold me like you mean it.
Make me come alive.
Hurt me,
Heal me,
Come on; make me feel it.
Rescue me.

Take me, touch me, hold me like you mean it.
Make me come alive.
Hurt me, heal me, come and make me feel it.
Rescue me tonight.
Love me back to life.
Love me back to life.
 

New Orleans, Louisiana
Friday, 4:15 am
January 4, 2019

Magical energies jumped from the painted circle and pierced Baby's body. Unresisting, she felt her consort's life inundate her, filling her with his essence. René's innate warmth and love flooded her. René became a part of each cell of her body. It would have been a perfect moment of oneness and joining had she not also felt the shattering of their bond, the sudden separation from his consciousness. It pierced her heart, severing it in twain, leaving her fractured. There was only emptiness now on their link. He was dead and she had not felt this horrid, cold barrenness since her sojourn in Hell. Then, she'd been told of his death and the story alone had wounded her heart and soul. This time she had seen him die. She knew he was truly gone and the agony was indescribable. She had witnessed the disintegration of the body that brought her so much joy and pleasure. She had seen that perfect face which never failed to look at her with anything other than adoration and care turn to dust. Where he had dwelled in her heart, where she had felt only love from the instant she saw him, there was now nothingness. Her soul quailed at the loss and she withdrew as far as she could from that unbearable feeling. She fell further and further into the abyss of her own mind even as René's life passed into her.

The remaining René waited for the magical glow to fade before turning back to his other captives. "Damn, how gullible could I be?" He shook his head before planting himself before Jean. "How could he think I'd let any man screw any form of me and still live? I killed Louis; I can damn sure kill you." He stared at Jean's silent form for a moment. "But you know that. You know I'm gonna kill you, don't you?"

Jean lifted tortured eyes to this vision that was and wasn't his brother. There were no tears in those brown orbs; the anguish he felt went far beyond tears. "You already did," he said flatly. "I died when you killed René."

The doppelganger curled his lip in disgust and rolled his eyes. "That's disgusting. And so sweet it makes me want to throw up! Bon Dieu! What the hell did I turn into? Some sort of fag queen hero? Guh." He shivered in revulsion. His sneer showed one long fang. "So you already dead? Well, I just make it more permanent, yeah?" As he lifted the stake he had just used to kill Jean's reason for being, a second blast of magical energy lit the room. This time it originated from Wesley Wyndham-Pryce's dexterous fingers. René flew across the room and smashed into Baby's cage before falling to the floor insensible. A contingent of Spike's children and descendents quickly disseminated the ranks of tiny robed beings and Quoin demons. Jack Niemczyk went immediately to Baby's cage and lifted her unresisting body from the floor. Seething anger shot through him at the sight of her bloody and bruised face. For an instant, Jack looked every bit as dangerous as the vampires around him. The Glock in his hand kept any of the hostiles at bay. Even the Quoin knew that a 40mm round in the head was no fun.

Wesley and a touch of magic quickly freed Jean and Spike. With an incoherent cry, Jean was beside his husband's murderer, the stake that had killed René in his hand. He pulled back his arm, prepared to extract justice for his brother and himself. Jean stared down at the killer, gasping, his teeth clenched against the emotion roiling through him, shaking his body. The sight was not what Jean wanted to see. Unconscious, the sneer gone from the duplicate's lips, his features relaxed and softened, there was nothing there to show the conscienceless killer that dwelled within. As beautiful as ever, more precious than jewels, lying there, Jean saw only René. With another cry, he tossed the stake away. "I can't. Damn it! I can't. Somewhere in there, he's still René. And God help me, I can feel him! He really is my brother." He lifted his face to the skies he couldn't see and screamed his anger, misery, and grief.

Spike was beside him in an instant. "Wes, chain that... chain him up." He motioned toward René's duplicate. "Bring him to the house. I'll decide what to do with him later. Don't be fooled by anything he says. That's not really René." He helped Jean to his feet and pulled his son toward the door. He had to get Jean out of this place and away from the doppelganger. He glanced at the unconscious man lying at Wesley's feet. He swallowed and rubbed René's ring where it rested on his finger with his thumb. "René's dead." Jean took two steps before collapsing in his father's arms.

~~~~~

New Orleans, Louisiana
Saturday, 1:50 pm
January 5, 2019

"You wouldn't have won, you know," Spike said to the prisoner.

René sneered. "Yeah? I was doing pretty good." He smiled harshly. "Got her separated from you, didn't I? You can die now without her dying. And I killed that pathetic excuse for me, didn't I?"

"That's when you lost," Spike explained. "The minute you killed René, you destroyed Baby. You wouldn't have had anything but an empty shell."

The sneer deepened. "Better that than nothing. At least you wouldn't have her."

Spike looked down at the dark and evil man who was also his son. "What happened, René? What turned you into this?"

René snarled, showing sharp teeth. "You did."

Spike wrapped his arms around himself and considered this thing that René had become. The teal eyes he'd seen filled with every emotion he'd thought possible were now glowing yellow with loathing. Spike could feel the resentment and hatred that filled this man. He couldn't imagine what had happened to turn his René into this bitter, poisonous creature.

Through all their trials and dilemmas, through all the betrayal, tribulations, and lies, the one surety had always been René's love. Despite the jealousy, the rivalry, and the struggle for Baby's affections, René had never stopped loving Spike and Spike had never stopped loving his son. That love had sustained them through it all and left them stronger after each confrontation.

There was no love, no affection of any kind in this René. There was only hate and anger and bitterness. Spike sighed in defeat. He'd find out no more from this man today. He'd been trying for over an hour to get him to tell him what had happened to so warp him and turn him to someone consumed by the darkness within. All he'd received so far were curses and sneers.

He'd try again later when he didn't feel so battered by the waves of hostility that rolled off this distorted vision of his son. Reluctantly, he left René chained to the ancient brick wall watched over by no less than five of Spike's strongest grandchildren.

~~~~~

New Orleans, Louisiana
Saturday, 7:19 pm
January 5, 2019

Spike entered his bedroom quietly. He didn't wish to disturb Baby if she happened to be sleeping. He saw immediately that this wasn't the case. "How is she?" he asked.

Jack put away the report he'd been reading. "The same. She won't speak. She won't eat. She doesn't sleep. She just lies there and stares at nothing." He sighed. "I can't even feel her though our link."

"I can," Spike said. "Just barely. It's so faint it's like she's on another planet." He sat down on the bed and took her unresisting hand in his. He'd been afraid this would happen. He'd known since she was pregnant with René's child how much his son meant to her. He never spoke of it but he knew she loved René best. He also knew that since he had turned her, she'd somehow lost the strength and resiliency she'd shown so often as a human. She could no longer weather the constant traumas that life threw at them. He wasn't sure if it was the stress of reconciling her demon and human aspects or if it was the accumulation of events over the years that had so weakened her. René had seemed to give her that strength she now lacked. His loss was the one thing she could not face. And so she had withdrawn completely. Spike doubted if she even knew where she was. He doubted she cared.

He remembered how she had fought and schemed to bring him back when he'd died. She had refused to accept his death. And she'd succeeded. But René's death had completely immobilized her. She'd simply stopped thinking or feeling. Spike was terrified she'd always be this way.

"Angel was here earlier," Jack said. "She didn't even blink. He tried everything." Jack stood and moved to look out beyond the balcony to the street below. "He tried to comfort her, tried to get her angry..." Jack snorted. "Hell, he made me angry with some of the things he said. None of it worked." He turned back to Spike. "Master, will she ever..." He didn't want to say it.

Spike wrapped his hand so tightly around hers he felt a bone snap. "I don't think so, Jack. I think we've lost her forever this time."

~~~~~

Jack handed Spike a mug of blood. "You need to eat," he said. Spike nodded and took the proffered bit of china. He'd been shocked by Jack's actions over the last thirty-six hours. Jack and Wes had both felt Baby's injuries at the hands of the duplicate René. Jack had called Rue Royale immediately and informed Wes that he was going looking for Baby. Together the two men had gathered a force of Spike's family and gone searching for her. Once rescued, Jack had helped get her home, leaving Spike free to help Jean.

Jack had been there ever since, caring for her, sitting with her while Spike dealt with everything else. Sam, René's children and grandchildren had all felt their sire's death and had to be contacted and arrangements for the safety of René's territories put in place. Spike's own children were grieving the loss of their brother, his grandchildren the loss of their uncle. Across the bloodline, there was mourning for René.

"How's Jean?" Jack asked. He had only seen his lover briefly but the pain Jean was in had frightened him.

"Not much better than she is," Spike said. "He'll talk but not much. He won't eat. He hasn't slept. Cordy's with him but she's devastated, too. I had no idea she and René had become so close." He sipped the blood gratefully. "Claudia is completely overwrought. Olivia's devastated as well. René's death is particularly hard for her. Sam and I have refused to let either of them drive here until we're sure there won't be an attack. With Ren gone, there a chance someone will try to move in on his territories, take advantage of the upset to the family to attack any of us." He drew a long breath. "I don't know what the flaming hell to do next." He stroked Baby's hand and laid it gently back on the coverlet. Jack had seen that the broken bone was set and bandaged properly. It would heal before another day had passed. "I wish she'd sleep." He was exhausted.

Jack could see that. "You need to sleep, too," he said. "More than ever, the family needs you. You have to take care of yourself." He leaned against the bedpost and crossed his arms. "You fall apart and things will go to hell in less than sixty seconds."

Spike nodded. "I know. I just..." He shrugged. He took Baby's hand again. Her gaze hadn't shifted the entire time he'd been there. The emptiness of those golden eyes hurt him more than he could express. It reminded him of the emptiness in his heart where René used to be.

"Then sleep. I'll keep an eye on things," Jack said.

Spike cocked an eyebrow at him. "Bloody sure of yourself, aren't you?" he said, not entirely without laughter in his voice.

"I'm Assistant Director in Charge of the FBI's Southeast Region. I can keep an eye on your kids for a few hours." His green eyes snapped with sardonic fire.

Spike laughed. "I think I'm beginning to see what Jean and Baby see in you."

Jack grinned. "Good. Now lie down for a while. You need it. Your family needs it."

Without further protest, Spike let his wife's companion help him undress and tuck him in. "Wake me if anything happens."

Jack grinned again. "I will." He sat down and opened his report again. He glanced at the vampires before he began reading. Spike was already asleep. Jack sighed and put the report aside again. He moved and sat down beside Baby as Spike had done earlier. He took her hand. "You stay like this and I'm going to be really pissed off at you," he whispered. "You can't do this to me, honey." He looked over at her sleeping husband. "You can't do this to all of them."

~~~~~

Cordelia kissed Jean's cheek tenderly. She didn't know what to say or do. She felt as lost and hurt as she had ever felt. She didn't know which was worse, her own grief at René's death or seeing Jean's grief. She wasn't sure she could help him through this. There had been too much death and loss in Jean's life in the last two years. He'd dealt with the horror that had descended on them all when Angelus had appeared while watching his wife slowly die of cancer. He'd seen Baby die and return insane. He'd nearly lost René to insanity and to Spike's anger. Through it all he'd stood as solid as the rock his family considered him. But the pressures had finally cracked even his granite resolve. When it seemed he'd never see his brother again, René had appeared and provided Jean with the support he'd needed. Jean had finally found completion in his love for his brother and had even weathered Baby's return to René's life. In fact, the three seemed closer than they'd been in years. To have René snatched from him now was the most unfair thing Cordy had ever heard of. The sheer injustice of it caused pain and anger to swirl through her. But there was nothing she could really do about it. So she lay beside him and simply kissed him, letting him know she was there.

Jean pulled her close. She still smelled of René. It was painful and comforting all at once. Jean didn't want to think about what it would be like when that scent faded away. He didn't want to imagine life without the sound of René's voice or the smell of him on the air. He knew with startling clarity that he'd never be able to survive in that world. He knew that his mother had already completely withdrawn from reality rather than face that empty world. He was tempted to join her. He was more tempted to join René in death. It would be easy enough to step out into the garden in the morning or even leap from his own balcony into the street once the sun was high enough. That would be easiest. They'd never suspect that and he'd be gone before they could stop him. He'd be with René.

He made his decision. He'd do that then. "Cordelia, don't be so sad. It'll be okay. I'll be alright," he told her.

Cordy instantly knew what he was planning. "Oh, no, you don't! You're not leaving me!" She held him closely. "Promise me you won't kill yourself!"

Jean shook his head. "I can't do that, petite."

"I'll chain you to this bed. I'll keep you chained here for years if I have to," she warned.

He stroked her hair. "You want to see me suffer than much, cher belle? That's all I have left, Cordelia, just suffering." He kissed her forehead. "I love you but not the way I love him. I can't go on. I don't have the strength to do that."

She buried her face in the crook of his neck and cried. She knew he was telling the truth. He'd waste away without René. Regardless of what happened, she'd just lost the only remaining two men she cared about. She wasn't sure she had the strength to go on either.

~~~~~

Jean eased Cordelia's head onto a pillow. Dried tears streaked her beautiful face. She'd cried herself to sleep. He was deeply sorry to have caused her such pain. But he had sworn that he'd never lie to her. There had been enough lies in Cordelia's life. He looked down at her and ran tender fingers across her cheek. He didn't want to cause her any more heartache. He wished there were something, anything that he could do. But there wasn't. He eased from bed and pulled on a robe while glancing at the clock beside his bed. It read a bit past 2 am.

He slipped silently into his parents' bedroom. He'd sensed that Spike was sleeping and didn't want to wake his father. Spike didn't need to face Jean's pain right now. Jean was mildly surprised to see Jack asleep in a chair by the French doors. He touched Jack's hair in passing. Looking down at his mother, he knew his decision was correct. Baby's eyes were open, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. She was gone, as removed from his reach as René was. Jean Claude bent and kissed her forehead. He couldn't feel her; she had buried herself so deeply in her own mind.

He remembered the past. In other times, he'd been so taken with her, so impressed by her strength and love for Spike that he'd felt his heart would burst. He'd seen her valor in the face of what anyone else would consider the inevitable. He'd seen her fight and win. But René's death had defeated her as it had defeated Jean. He remembered how he'd wanted to have someone who'd love him enough to fight for him the way she had fought for Spike. Jean turned away, his goodbye said with that silent kiss. He wished she were the woman she had once been. She'd find a way to save them all, even from this ruin.

As he stepped into the hall, it occurred to him that they had all come to rely on her ingenuity and devious plans as much as they relied on his support and ability to put her plans into action. He'd once told her that they fixed things, the two of them. And they did. They were a near unbeatable team.

It struck him that she wasn't the only one who could make plans.

~~~~~

Wesley simply raised an eyebrow when Jean slammed him up against a wall.

"I want the spell," Jean said with yellow fire playing across his eyes. "I know you have a special, fool-proof spell to bring back a vampire that's been dusted." He slapped Wes' hand away. "I want it."

Wesley shook his head. He'd been expecting this visit. He knew it was only a matter of time before Jean remembered Wes' contingency plans. "I'm sorry, Jean. I feel for you. I do. I loved René, too. But I can't let you have it. It can only be cast once and it's for her." He didn't have to tell Jean he meant Drusilla.

"So you've said." Jean was beyond caring about his nephew's own love. He only cared about his. "It doesn't matter. I want it or something like it. I want René back. Baby brought Spike back; Spike brought Baby back. Why can't we do the same for René? You find me something, Wes, or I'll hurt you in ways that you won't enjoy."

Wes tried to reason with his uncle. "You know René's in Heaven, Jean. Do you really want to pull him from there?" Wesley knew Spike had forbidden that any of the Redeemed be returned because he wouldn't deny them Paradise.

Jean smiled unpleasantly. "René once told me that Heaven wouldn't mean shit to him if Baby wasn't there. Well, she's lying upstairs as out of her mind as it's possible for a woman to be. I can promise you that René isn't happy without her and you know that's the truth." He shook the Englishman. "Now, you can help me get the man I love back and just possibly restore your mother's sanity. Or I can kick the shit out of you till you do it anyway."

"You think you can do that?" Wes said with a smile.

"I know I can," Jean countered. "So you gonna help me or what?"

Wes muttered a word or two and electricity shot through Jean. He dropped Wes with a gasp. "Don't underestimate me, dear." Wes grinned. "However, you're quite right. René is doubtlessly as miserable without you and Baby as I'd be without Drusilla." He thought for a moment.

Jean drew an unneeded breath. "So?"

"I am not giving you the spell I have that assures Dru can come back to me," Wes told him. He would not risk that. Not even for his beloved uncles. "However, I have another. Actually, I have several, but this is the most reliable. The others have very limited chances of success." He straightened his shirt where Jean had rumpled it. "The only drawback is that we need a body. A vampire body. Someone has to give up their life so René can have their body."

"Does it have to be voluntarily?" Jean asked with a speculative gleam in his eye.

"No," Wes said immediately, following Jean's train of thought. "If René wants to come back, he can take over any body with a bit of help from us."

Jean grinned darkly. "Then we got the perfect body, don't we. Not a problem at all."

Wes grinned with him. "Indeed we do. You're right; it won't be any problem at all."

~~~~~

Spike took the drink Jack handed him. "You're what?" he asked his son and grandson.

Jean settled himself in the chair more comfortably. "I'm bringing René back. Wes and I can do it. We're going to put our René in the body of that... whatever it is that killed him." He sipped his own drink. "I think that's only proper."

Jack nodded as he sat down on the edge of Baby's vanity. "It does have a sort of poetic justice to it, if you'll forgive the cliché."

Wesley grinned at his grandfather. "It addresses your concerns about taking one of the Redeemed from Heaven as well. What happens is this: I'll retrieve René's essence and place it in his duplicate's body. Since the duplicate is already in possession, he'll fight René. If our René truly wants to be here, with us, he'll fight back. If he can overcome his doppelganger, he'll take over the body and it will be as though he never left us. If he wants to stay in Heaven, he'll simply vacate the body and let the duplicate remain in control."

Spike thought for a moment and glanced at his wife. She remained as unresponsive as she had since Jack had carried her from the cage. Without René, she'd never awaken. "Do it," he ordered.

~~~~~

New Orleans, Louisiana
Sunday, 8:21 pm
January 6, 2019

Spike watched impassively as René's duplicate was chained to René's bed. Wesley felt the familiar surroundings would assist their René and lend him strength. He looked down at this dark and evil man who was also his son. "I wish you'd tell me what happened. I can't imagine anything that would turn the René I know into this."

René snarled. "I told you. You did this. I'm what you made me."

Spike recoiled slightly. "He's lying, Papa," Jean said. "You're the reason René and I are Redeemed. You and Maman are the reason we're good men and not ravening monsters." He took Spike's arm. "Come away from him. He's just an aberration." Spike allowed Jean to lead him across the room. "Wes is ready to start, anyway."

The mage was indeed ready to begin his incantation. Drusilla reached out and lent her not inconsiderable power to her husband. Spike watched as eldritch forces stirred and swirled about his sire and his grandson, setting Dru's long hair dancing and making Wes' eyes glow. He'd felt their power many times before but each instance amazed him. A language so obscure even Spike didn't recognize it flowed from Wesley's lips, seeming to take form and hang suspended in the air. The clouded words began to swirl and mix, spiraling upward until Spike feared they'd open a hole in his roof. An opening did appear but it was not of this world. It was laced with lightning and storm clouds. A light so bright Spike couldn't stand to look at it glowed in the midst of the maelstrom. The lightning gathered and coalesced into a stream and fed into Wesley. More and more of the blue-white fire collected about the mage until it seemed he would be consumed by it. At last, energy leapt from Wes to the man bound to the four-poster.

René arched off the bed, only the restraints on his wrists and ankles keeping him anchored. Spike swore he saw another René glowing with that unbearable white light, walking through the stream of energy, eventually merging with the figure on the bed. The light died, leaving only the black-haired vampire screaming and fighting his restraints. René's face flashed from human to vampire and back countless times as two demons fought for possession of a single body. He pulled against the manacles and tossed atop the coverlet. The bed rattled and shook from the force of his struggles. It seemed to last forever. Each of René's screams caused Jean to flinch. Cordy held tightly to his hand, trying not to think of what could happen if this attempt failed. She finally looked away, unable to face the battle being waged inside her lover's body. Spike clenched his fists, grateful that Baby didn't have to see this. Wesley had fallen to his knees as the light faded and the swirling clouds dissipated. He watched the fruits of his exertions now with concerned blue eyes while holding tightly to Drusilla. Angel placed a strong hand on Wesley's shoulder, offering what support he could to his friend. He didn't like René but he wasn't sure he'd wish this struggle even on his enemy. Jack, like Angel, watched the struggle for dominance within René's form with a solemn face and unflinching resolve. He silently prayed that his mistress' consort won. He knew René was her only hope of recovery.

With a final prolonged cry René collapsed back onto the mattress and lay without movement. Jean ignored all the warnings shouted at him and went to René. He looked down at the still face he so loved and trailed his fingers down René's cheek. Teal eyes opened and stared up at him. "Jean." The chains holding René chinked softly as he tried to reach for his consort. "M' Jean. M' amour. You remembered what I said. You found me," he said tenderly.

Jean dropped onto René, covering him with kisses and tears.

Chapter Seven - "Hook Me Up"

Hook Me Up

Hello, is there anybody out there?
I'm alone, hanging by a thread.
Everywhere around the world,
Everybody's waiting for someday.
Calling out around the world,
Maybe someday might be tonight.

Hook me up - I'm reaching out for you, come on
Hook me up - I know you can do it, come on, take me on.

Are you there?
Tell me what you're feeling,
Your fears and all your wildest dreams.
Everyone around the world,
Is feeling just the same way that we are.
Reaching out around the world,
Will someone somewhere throw me a line?

Hook me up - I'm reaching out for you, come on.
Hook me up - I know you can do it. Come on. Take me on.

Save me, save me, save me, save me.
Hello, is there anybody out there?

Calling out around the world,
Maybe someday might be tonight.

Hook me up - I'm reaching out for you, come on.
Hook me up - I know you can do it. Come on. Take me on.
Hook me up - I'm hanging on the line, come on.
Hook me up - Make me come alive. Come on. Take me on.

Save me, save me, save me, save me.

New Orleans, Louisiana
Sunday, 9:32 pm
January 6, 2019

René sipped his mug of blood and pushed the blanket way. "Jeeeaaaannnn! Stop fussing!" He smiled to take the sting out of his words. "I'm fine, love. I am. You can quit hovering, cher."

Jean smiled ruefully and sat down on the arm of René's chair. "Sorry. Can't help it." He took René's hand in his. "Don't you ever dare die on me again," he ordered.

"Not planning to," René assured him. "Heaven was... nice, but you weren't there." He looked around the room. It was good to be here, in his old room. It smelled and felt more like home than any place, even the house in Mobile. Only Heaven had felt this much like home. "None of you were there."

"You're sure it's okay?" Jean asked. He considered René's fingers carefully, touching each one, turning René's hand over and back as if assuring himself that no parts were missing. "Me bringing you back?" He looked up from René's hand into the eyes he dreamed of nightly.

René saw the worry in his consort's eyes and hastened to reassure him. "This is where I want to be, m' amour. Right here. Nowhere else." Jean seemed comforted but René vowed to be very careful what he revealed about his time away from this plane. He wouldn't have Jean hurt for the world and everything in it.

"You sure you're alright?" Spike asked. "Up to talking?" He'd shooed everyone but Jean away after they had ascertained that René truly was back. He figured René needed some peace and quiet and not half the household underfoot.

"Mais oui, Papa," René answered immediately. "Physically, I'm a little tired but I'm okay. I am." He held tightly to Jean's hand when his brother looked as though he'd dispute that claim. "Mentally, well, like I told you, I can't feel any o' my children. I can only feel you and Jean and Claudia. And I only feel Jean as a brother, not as a consort. I can't feel Maman at all." The lack of connection to his family concerned him. He didn't like it. He missed feeling Sam in the back of his mind. He missed the deep intimacy of Jean's constant warmth, though at least he had a hint of that though their sibling bond. The complete severance of his connection to Baby hurt. It also frightened him. It made it too easy to believe she didn't exist. The connections he did have were dark and alien. They troubled him.

Spike nodded. "I'm not too surprised by that. When your mother came back with a new body, she had the same difficulty." He paced about the chamber, too hyper to sit. "The René that wore that body didn't turn any of your children; he never married Jean. That body never did any of those things. So you don't feel those links. If you ever meet any of the children or consorts he made, you'll recognize them immediately." René shivered at the thought. He didn't want to meet any of them. "As it is, you're only familiar with the links from the time you shared that body. The two of you were once one person and you'll have those bonds. Since it's only Jean, Claudia, and I that you feel, the dimension must have split fairly early in your vampire life. Otherwise, you'd feel Rex and some of the other children." He shook his head. "I wish I knew what happened to cause that rift."

René looked down at his hand, his fingers curled around Jean's. "I know what it was." He took a deep breath. "I told you, I know everything he did, everything that ever happened to him. I got all his memories in my head now. It's like a nightmare I can't forget." He shuddered. "It's all there. It happened to me but it really didn't."

Spike nodded and squeezed René's shoulder. "I know exactly how that is. It happened to me and your mother, too. She has all my life in her mind and I have hers. And I have memories of a different life in my head, one that never really happened. Just like you. So, I can help you deal with that."

René nodded gratefully, though Spike's care and concern made what René had to tell him all the harder to say. "He, that other me, he was an awful man. He did things… I can't even begin to… And he enjoyed them." He ran a hand through his hair. "And the worst part is that I understand how he could enjoy them."

Spike tightened his grip on René. "I know how that is, too. And I didn't have the excuse of being a different person. Angel can tell you how that feels, too. I suppose Dru could as well but I don't think Dru regrets anything she's ever done. As far as she's concerned, it simply happened. Hell, as far as Dru's concerned, she probably made every possible decision for any situation and remembers them all." He was distracted momentarily by the peculiar version of reality that his sire existed in. "Dru doesn't live like the rest of us."

When René remained silent, Spike transferred his hand to his son's silky hair. "If you weren't a good man, you wouldn't have gone to Heaven. They don't normally give demons a reservation for a room there, you know." He smiled down at his son. "As you said, that other life is a nightmare. You didn't do any of the things you remember. That was someone else."

René shook his head. "No, Papa. It was me. I'm capable of that kind of evil. It just… It's hard to know I could have become that so easy."

Jean bent slightly and kissed the top of René's head. "What did cause it, m' coeur?"

René didn't know where to look. He finally closed his eyes and managed to speak. "Phillip. He succeeded. He killed Maman and the bébé. I don't know how it was possible, but I felt it. I felt him take the baby from her, rip it from her arms, and kill it and then kill her. I felt everything she did. I felt her die." He had begun to rock back and forth, the memory of something that didn't happen nearly too ghastly for him to articulate. His horror was echoed on Spike and Jean's faces. "I found their bodies on the front walk," he continued, the story pouring from him in a rush of anguish now that he had begun. "He put a red Christmas bow on the bébé." His voice was far away and filled with dread. "And a green one in Bébé's hair. He brushed her hair and put a green bow in it!" It was too awful for him to contemplate. Tears squeezed from his tightly closed eyes.

"Mon Dieu!" Jean whispered nearly overcome by the thought of what might have been.

René's eyes snapped open. "You left her with him," he snarled at Spike, yellow swirling through the sea of his eyes. "You left her alone with him and he killed her. He killed my daughter and the only person I ever really loved and it was your fault!" He voice slowly crept up in volume and his body shook from the force of the memory. "I can't ever forgive you for that! You wouldn't let me go looking for her and he killed her that night! I hate you. I'll hate you forever!"

The horror Spike felt was evident. He stared at his son in open-mouthed dismay.

"René." Jean reached for his brother but René stopped him with a murderous glare.

"And you! You sided with him! I needed you to stand with me and you sided with him!" Jean was frightened by the intensity of the memory and how deep a hold it had on René. René's next words did nothing to mitigate his fears. "You swear you love me one night and make me believe it and then you turn your back on me!" René's eyes sparked fire. "I'm glad I killed you! I'm glad I killed you both."

Spike grabbed René by the shoulders and pushed love and understanding through their link. "René! That never happened! Phillip didn't kill Baby and the child! Baby's down the hall. Your child grew up. You saved her. You and Jean together saved her. I killed Phillip with my own hands." He forced René to meet his eyes. "What you're remembering didn't happen!"

René gasped and, panting for breath, grabbed Spike. "Oh Papa! It seem so real. For just a few minutes…"

"Shhh," Spike hissed softly. "It's alright. I understand. I know what it's like. Find the real memory. Find the one that happened to you. Baby's alive. Jean never betrayed you."

"Jean!" René launched himself from Spike's arms and gathered Jean Claude in a crushing embrace. "Oh Jean! I didn't mean it! It would kill me if something happened to you. I didn't mean it." He was trembling with fear and remorse. "I couldn't hurt you. I just couldn't."

Spike knew he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince Jean. Spike sent his assurance and love out to his eldest son as well. "Jean understands, René." Spike captured Jean's sable eyes. "We know it's going to be hard for you for a while. It takes a bit of getting used to, having two sets of memories in your head. Your mother and I will be able to help you, God willing." He certainly hoped Baby would be able to help René. He prayed she was soon alert and with him again. "She helped me through it. Jean will help you, too."

Jean looked up at his husband. He didn't need a consort link to see how frightened René was. Losing control, losing himself in his other self's memory had terrified René. Jean pulled René's head down and kissed him deeply. "I will. I love you," he said when he finally released René's mouth.

René sank back down into the chair he'd sprung from halfway through his outburst. He was still breathing hard and terror had settled over his face. Jean resumed his seat beside René and pressed the mug of still-warm blood into his hands. "Drink this. All of it. And don't argue." He waited until René had followed his orders. The brief time needed to finish his food seemed to help calm René somewhat.

Spike squatted before René and placed a hand on his son's knee. "It'll be alright. I promise you. We'll see you through this. I do understand what you're feeling. And I can understand now about the other you."

He did understand. Only seven months old, barely integrated into the family, René had faced a trauma that even had it happened now would have been devastating. And it had broken him and twisted his entire world. Without his family, part of them destroyed by his own hand, René had nothing to give him any incentive to fight the darkness inside himself. Without the softening influence of his parents, without Jean's gentle encouragement and guidance, René had become as hard and ruthless as any of the figures he'd encountered during his time in prison. He'd become what he'd always feared he could be.

Spike bit into the fleshy area just below his thumb and offered it to René. "Here, you need this. Come on, drink," he told René when his son hesitated. "You've had a hell of a shock. This will help." He bit the other hand and held it out to Jean. "You, too."

Jean smiled gratefully and complied with his sire's request. Spike sighed contentedly as he felt them begin to drink. He wrapped them both in his assurances and his affection for them. He made sure they drank deeply of both his blood and his love.

~~~~~

Later, assured that both his children were calmer and had the strength necessary to continue, he faced Rene. "We're glad to have you home, son," Spike told him as Jean handed René a cup of steaming coffee. The warmth of the liquid always felt good to the vampires and René had complained that he felt cold. Jean was worried by that; vampires normally felt discomfort from neither the heat nor the cold.

"I'm glad to be back." He meant it. He couldn't say that his sojourn in Heaven had not been wonderful but he had also felt incomplete. René was surer than ever that he was only truly alive when he was surrounded by his family. Knowing what the lack of that family had done to his doppelganger only increased his surety that he needed them for the sake of his very being. He'd voluntarily given up Paradise to return to the uncertainty of life but it was worth it to feel Jean's arms around him and to look into Spike's eyes. The chance of hearing Baby simply say his name as he held her close was worth more than Heaven to René.

"We all took losing you very hard." Spike shoved his hands in his pockets and thought for a moment before he continued. "You know Jean was a wreck. I think he's more than proved what you mean to him."

"Jean never needed to prove it, Papa. I always known what I mean to him." René smiled up at his consort. Jean's insides melted. He knew he'd made the right choice and he knew now with certainty that if anything ever did happen to René that he couldn't reverse, he'd gladly kill himself. He wasn't going to live without René ever again.

"Good." Spike was quiet for a moment, wondering how much he really knew about what went on in his sons' heads and hearts. "I think you've also always known what you mean to your mother." Spike saw René's face go closed and still. Spike knew it was time for complete honesty. If they were going to do what needed to be done, there could be no more deceit between them. "She took losing you very hard. I don't think she could have taken it any harder." He took a deep breath. "René, I've known for years that she loves you best."

Jean and René both looked at their father with eyes that had gone big and round. "No, Papa," René assured him. "That's not true."

Spike couldn't help but smile. "She fooled even you, then. Am I the only one who saw the truth?" He noted the embarrassment on Jean's face and knew it wasn't because Jean was unaware of the state of his mother's heart. "Maybe not." He came and stood before his son. "René, your mother has always loved you best, even when she refused to admit it to herself. But she had sworn an oath to me and she tried her damnedest to keep it." He sniffed. "Come to think of it, she did keep it. She swore she'd never cheat on me as long as she lived. And she didn't. Nothing happened until she was turned." He stopped, shocked by the expression on René's face. "You never really knew? You never once thought that she might love you more than me."

Jean took the mug from René's unresisting fingers, afraid his husband would drop it. René shook his head and made several attempts at speech before he managed a fragmented "No! I never..."

Spike reached out and cupped René's cheek. "She loves me. I know that. I've never doubted that. She's proven it a million times in ways you can't even guess. I feel it every time we're together." He took a deep breath. "But dear childe, she loves you more than anything or anyone in existence. Even me." He stared into ocean blue depths. "And that's why you're the only one who can help her."

René was too shocked to protest or even speak coherently. Jean's hand holding his provided his one source of solidity. He looked up at his brother.

Jean smiled ruefully. "It's true. I've known it for years. I thought you knew."

"Then why…" René wasn't even sure what he was asking.

"Because I'm a selfish bastard and I love her and I was afraid you'd take her away if you knew the truth," Spike said simply. "You have no idea what it's taken for me to say that, either." He drew himself up and put on the mantle of self-assurance that had help make him Master of Louisiana and overlord of most of five states. "But we can't have any more deceit between us. If this family is going to survive, there has to be honesty. And the honest truth is I love your mother. She's my wife and I'm not giving her up even though I know she loves you more than me. I fooled myself into believing I was first in her heart for a long time. And we all suffered because of it. But I can't give her up and I won't. But I can share her. I can share her with you because I love you, too. And I finally got it through my thick skull that you love me and you don't want to hurt me."

René looked perplexed. Jean simply looked relieved.

Spike smiled. "We both love her and we're going to get her back. Actually, you're going to do it, René. You're the only one who can." He watched the frown deepen on his son's face. "She's locked herself away inside her own mind because you died. She'll only unlock that door when she knows you're back. Jean knows you're back because he can see and hear you but he misses your consort bond. She's so trapped in her own head she can't see or hear anything. And she doesn't have a bond with you anymore either. As far as she knows, you're still dead." He paused. He knew in his heart that this was the right thing, the only thing, to do. Still, it was hard to say it. "You're going to have to rebond with her." René's eyes were huge. Spike kissed René's cheek. "You're going to have to claim her, son."

Jean thought René would faint. Spike wasn't surprised when René's lips moved but no words ever formed. René eventually gave up and simply stared at his father.

Spike nodded slowly. "I'm giving you permission to claim her as your consort," he said gently.

René felt as though he needed to breathe. His father's words had damn near caused his heart to start beating. He couldn't have said a word to save his unlife. He felt Jean's arms go around him and he settled gratefully into his brother's embrace, thankful for Jean and the support he always found in his brother's arms.

"René, look at me," Spike ordered. When his son complied, he continued in a serious, nearly ominous tone. "It's not going to be what you're thinking. She's ... unconscious, for want of a better word." He took a breath of his own. "She won't be able to participate. She won't be able to give her permission," he said.

The significance of what Spike was saying hit René. His father hadn't thought it possible for those teal eyes to get any bigger but they did. "That means...." René shook his head emphatically. "No! No, I can't." He had gone paler than any vampire should be able to. "Papa! Do you know what you're asking!"

Spike nodded sadly. "Yes, son. I do." He took another deep breath. "It's her only hope. We do this or she'll stay locked inside her head until she wastes away and dies. And with her refusing to eat that won't take long."

René shivered. He couldn't even consider that. Not with the memories he now had. He'd died twice now but both deaths paled in comparison to just the thought of hers. He'd seen her die once in reality and felt it in a life that never happened. He couldn't face either again. Still his father's request was appalling. "I don't know if I can!" he declared. He felt sick. "Without her consent...It's...It's rape, Papa!" He shivered again. His heart rebelled from the thought of hurting her that way.

"I know," Spike said sadly. "But I have no other choice and neither do you."

~~~~~

René stared down at the woman he loved above all things and shuddered. Spike and Jean had both told him the condition she was in but he really hadn't been prepared for the reality of it. He dropped to his knees beside the bed. He stroked her face and spoke softly to her. She didn't even blink. To see her was heart wrenching. To know that his death was responsible for her state caused a mixture of feelings that churned René's stomach and clenched his heart. He had always known she loved him but even with their consort bond, he had never realized how deeply she cared for him or how essential he was to her. He wanted to cry. He finally had indisputable proof that she loved him every bit as much as he loved her and he was expected to hurt her in the one way that she would never forgive. He wished he'd remained dead. Still, he couldn't leave her to waste away and die like this. It was too horrible to contemplate. He'd risk her hatred. He'd spend every second of the next few centuries earning her forgiveness but he wouldn't let her die locked away in self-imposed silence and darkness. He wouldn't let her send herself to Hell grieving for him. Until the time she achieved her salvation and could join him in Heaven forever, he'd keep her alive and here with him even if that meant he put off returning to Paradise until the end of the world.

"All right," he whispered. "I do it. I don't have a choice. I...." He couldn't go on.

Spike placed his hand on René's shoulder. "I wish there was another way, but there isn't. Wesley's magicks don't work, nothing works." He stroked Baby's face with his other hand. "I'll make sure she knows it was my idea," he said in a voice as soft as René's.

"I don't think that will help. She'll never forgive me for this." His smile was more of a grimace and deeply tinged with bitterness. "I think you'll finally have her all to yourself, after all."

"I don't think that's what will happen at all." Spike sighed. "Tell me truthfully. All these years, has she ever been the one to say no? You've always been the one that kept her from cheating on me, haven't you?" When René reluctantly nodded, Spike continued, "I think she'll forgive you anything. I think once she realizes it's you, she'll welcome your touch the way she always has."

René turned her hand over and stroked her palm. "I hope so, Papa. I don't know how I'll live with myself if she doesn't."

~~~~~

René stretched out beside his beloved. Spike himself had undressed Baby and prepared her as best he could for this. He and René had done everything they could to assure that she wouldn't be physically hurt. René wished he could be sure that there would be no mental or emotional harm as well. He would do anything to ensure she wasn't hurt. He knew that if he was forced to do this, though, she would be. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.

He smoothed a stray hair from her face. "Ange? You hear me? Please hear me." Baby gave no sign that she'd registered his presence at all. "Ange, please. Don't make me do this. You got to hear me." Tears clogged his throat for a moment and he was forced to pause. "Belle, m' belle. I love you. Please, just blink your eyes. Anything!" He sent up a silent prayer to the Heaven he had just vacated. They weren't listening. And neither was she.

Surrounded by a void of her own making, shackled in her grief, Baby had ceased to know or care about the passage of time or the circumstances of her surroundings. Nothing mattered anymore. René was gone; why should she care about the world or anything in it? She felt neither his touch nor his presence. Her ears were closed to his words. Her eyes stared sightlessly into emptiness. If she couldn't see him, what use had she for sight? And if she couldn't tell him of her love, why should she speak? Without René as a reference point, her senses had become useless. She had rendered herself blind, deaf, and dumb rather than perceive a world without him.

With an aching heart, he kissed her lips. For the first time since he'd known her, there was no answering kiss. The ache inside him grew. He closed his eyes for a moment and laid his head on her shoulder. Finally, unable to stave off the inevitable any longer, he gently parted her legs and eased himself atop her. After a few moments, he dropped his head to her breast. "I can't," he said as tears flooded his eyes. "I can't."

"You have to," Spike whispered in his ear.

René shook his head, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "I can't." He paused for a moment. "Literally. Physically. I can't. My body won't let me."

Spike understood. René felt absolutely no desire to take her this way and his body rebelled against what his mind told him was necessary. Spike had suspected this might be the case and actually felt comforted that René wasn't capable of forcing himself on her. On the other hand, René had to complete the claiming ritual; it wasn't something Spike could do for him. But Spike knew he could still help his son.

He ran his hands across René's broad shoulders. "It's alright. Relax." His fingers dug into René's muscles, finding the knots and releasing them. "You know she loves you. She loves you so much that we're in this predicament." After several minutes, his massage became more sensual. Spike's voice turned rich and husky. "No one could love you more than she does. And she has for years and years. Do you remember, all those years ago? The time the three of us were together. She loved you even then." He was quiet for a moment, his hands working across the planes of René's back. "I should have given us more times like that." He kissed the back of René's neck, enjoying the taste of René's skin. "We should have been together more." He gently began to trail his lips down René's spine.

"I remember," René breathed. Spike's lips sent jolts of sensation through René. He'd forgotten how good Spike's lips could feel. It had been years since Spike had touched him this way. Somewhere in the past, he and Spike had stopped physically expressing what they felt for each other. René and Spike had exchanged nothing more intimate than kisses in nearly a decade. And even kisses had become rare. René hadn't realized how much he missed his sire's touch until now. He hadn't realized how fragile their bond had become.

"Mm hmm," Spike hummed against René's skin, feeling desire begin to prickle through their childe/sire bond. "Do you remember how much she wanted you? How much we both wanted you?" He licked a trail back up the path he'd just created with his kisses. He'd forgotten how wonderful René tasted, how wonderful he felt under Spike's hands. "Do you remember how good she smelled that night? How good she tasted?" He nipped and kissed across René's shoulder blades, down his back, lingering along each vertebra until he saw René's hands grasp and knead the sheets on either side of Baby's body. "Remember how very much she wanted you. Remember how she felt around you," Spike told him in a voice barely above a whisper. "That first time we were all together, when you gave her a child and then that time with me, remember how good it was." When Spike reached down and grasped René, his son gasped and whimpered. Spike's hand squeezing and stroking him sent René's mind and heart rocketing to other times and places, times when René had felt he belonged, when he felt completely a part of the family, when he'd believed he would never leave Rue Royal and the embrace of his parents, brother, and sister. René had thought the five of them would be together forever.

Spike opened his link to René fully, feeling his son's longing and fulfilling it as he fed both René's mental and physical needs. René's response was heartfelt and evident. Spike could feel it in his mind and in his hand. "Yes, that's it. Remember how she felt when she opened herself for you. Remember what it was like to love her." He gently brought Rene to readiness. "Tell her. Tell her how much you love her." Spike stoked softly as a gentle rain of French fell from René's lips onto Baby's skin. "Yes. Tell her. Make sure she knows. Tell her how much we both love her."

Rene complied, pouring his love, Spike's love, into words that came from deep within the core of his being. He gasped for breath as his father spoke of how much he'd wanted René long ago in the garden, of how much he wanted Rene now. René didn't resist when Spike guided him gently into Baby and whispered soft encouragement into René's ear.

"Swear the oath, René," Spike murmured. His breath tickled René's ear and his words ate into René's mind, his sire's voice awakening sensations this body had forgotten. "Swear that you'll love her forever."

"I will," René gasped. "I'll love her forever." He could feel Spike's approval deep inside himself.

Spike's lips brushed René's ear. "She'll always be yours now." Spike's voice echoed inside René's head, forming delicate chains binding him to his sire as never before. "She'll never be separated from you again."

"No, I'll never let her go," René swore. He barely felt Spike's fangs puncturing his wrist, wasn't aware of Spike holding the wound so drops of René's blood trickled between Baby's lips. He was only aware of Spike's voice and hands on his body. Only aware of her beneath him and of the love he felt for them both.

"Now, René. Now. Make her yours," Spike ordered huskily. "Claim her!"

Panting from emotions beyond his control, René sank his teeth into the alabaster of her throat and felt her explode around him. She filled his mind. She was everywhere and everything. He felt her body arch beneath his, heard her gasp his name, felt her arms come up and enfold him.

René pierced the nothingness that Baby had wrapped herself in with a sword thrust of white light and warmth such as she'd never felt. He blazed through her mind and body, a raging wildfire of need, longing, and purest love. He lit the darkest corners of her psyche and thawed the ice that surrounded her heart. Wherever he touched, the cold and gloom fled until there was no longer any place within her that did not feel his warmth and vitality. He was alive. She was aware of his body within hers, his arms about her, his fangs in her throat, his blood in her mouth. He was solid and real and more precious than thought or word could describe. She whispered his name, needing to hear the sound of it. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, holding him safe against her body. She would never let him go again.

And for the first time in his life, René knew perfect bliss. This was beyond anything he had ever experienced. Their bond remade, deeper and stronger than before, he could feel her, body and soul. His fears were eased; she was not angry with him, she didn't hate him. She loved him with an intensity unimaginable. He drank in that love as hungrily as he drank in her blood. The thirst he'd felt for eighteen years was finally quenched. The hunger that ate at his soul was satisfied.

He thought nothing could be better until he felt Spike's fangs sink deep into the muscles of his shoulder, marking him, claiming him. Spike flowed quicksilver through his mind, love unconditional and as vast as the skies above them inundated him with peace and acceptance, a benediction and blessing. There could no longer be any doubts or suspicions between them. There were no longer any secrets. There was only love.

Deep in his mind he felt his mother and father meet and their feelings for each other burst across him. So strong it had faced and defeated the lords of Hell not once but twice, that love burned as strongly within them as it ever had. Caring beyond the romantic, a friendship forged over two decades reached out and enveloped René. It was breathtaking and beautiful beyond his ability to describe. And it now included him. The love they felt for each other now encompassed him. There was no separation between the love Baby felt for René and for Spike. Spike likewise twined his love for the two of them into one emotion. Their feelings all became one emotion shared between the three of them, but still they seemed incomplete. René felt his father send out a silent call.

René's joy knew no bounds when he sensed Jean and realized that his brother had answered that unspoken appeal. René felt Jean's hands touching him, loving him. He encouraged his brother, his lover, to drink from the wound Spike had made for Baby. As Jean's lips closed over René's wrist, René felt Spike reach out and realized Spike was claiming Jean as he had just claimed René. Spike drew Jean into the link and joined him to the three already bound together. Jean's touch in René's mind was as soft as sun-warmed earth. It cradled him as Jean's arms had so often cradled him when life's turmoil assailed René. Jean was security. Jean was comfort and peace and all the things that made up home. Jean's love for his parents and his brother was as deep as that already coursing through their link and his strength provided perfect counterpoint to the hurricane force that was Spike. Jean felt himself drowning in René, anchored only by Spike's will. He dropped into that ocean of emotion and allowed his brother and father to flow and wind around and through him. They became a part of him. And over and around them all, his mother burned. Baby was a roaring crimson flame that consumed Jean, Spike, and René and remade them into the perfect visions she kept of them. She perfected them as they completed her. In her thoughts and in her heart they were flawless. Jean had never realized that she worshiped the three men who were most important to her equally. He had always thought he was somehow accounted lesser in her mind. He knew now that wasn't true. She loved him as deeply as she loved Spike and René. The love she felt for each man was different but equally intense. This was true for each of them. Individually they loved each other in very different ways but the depth and breadth of that love were boundless. Now tied to each other, they became a single force with all suspicions and doubts wiped away. There were no longer any hidden pain or guilt. They had been replaced with openness, forgiveness, and truth. This was completion; this was what their lives were supposed to be. This was how they were always meant to be. Alone, each was fragmented; together, they were complete.

René was finally at one with the three people who made up his world. This oneness was more than the Heaven he had given away. He reveled in the love and elation of his family, of complete acceptance, of belonging, of finally belonging until his senses could stand no more and he passed gently into unconsciousness.

Epilogue - "You Make Loving Fun"

You make loving fun

Sweet wonderful you,
You make me happy with the things you do,
Oh, can it be so,
This feeling follows me wherever I go.

I never did believe in miracles,
But I've a feeling it's time to try.
I never did believe in the ways of magic,
But I'm beginning to wonder why.

Don't, don't break the spell,
It would be different and you know it will,
You, you make loving fun,
And I don't have to tell you you're the only one.

You make loving fun.
You make loving fun.

New Orleans, Louisiana
Monday, 6:32 am
January 7, 2020

"You fainted."

"I did not!"

"You did."

"I did not!"

Angel looked up from his final cup of coffee of the night as the two eldest Roxton brothers strolled into the breakfast room. The broad smiles on their faces completely belied the tones of their voices, proving their bickering was nothing more than an excuse to tease each other.

"I just sorta went unconscious for a minute," René groused, his smile never lessening.

Jean laughed. "I think that's the definition of fainting."

René crossed him arms, his shirt open and revealing his bare chest. "I did not faint!"

"Boys," Spike chided gently as he followed his sons into the room. His arm was slung over his wife's shoulders. "It's quite alright if you did, René," he continued and ran his hand across René's chest before pulling his son down for a lingering kiss. "It was enough to make anyone a bit vaporish."

René licked his lips, savoring his sire's taste. "Yeah, it was." He grinned brightly before kissing Baby deeply and whirling her about with a whoop.

Angel picked his eyes up off the table and put them back in his head. He folded the newspaper. "I take it everything worked out okay?"

"Morning, Sire," Baby chirped from the haven of René's arms.

"You could say that," Spike said, answering Angel question. He kissed Jean as lovingly as he had René. "I think okay might be a bit of an understatement but you were always good at that."

Angel shook his head. "So now what?"

Spike knew Angel wanted to know what he planned to do now about notifying the world of René's return but Spike chose to give the question a different meaning. He tilted his head and pushed an errant lock of hair from Jean's forehead. "Now, Jean moves home where he belongs."

Jean shook his head. "I can't leave René."

"Of course not," Spike agreed. "René's moving home, too."

"Papa?" René questioned.

Spike's expression was soft and full of welcome. "It's time to end that self-imposed exile of yours and come home where you belong."

René's smile lit up the room. "I'd like that! I'd like that a lot." He thought he might pass out again from sheer joy.

Spike kissed him. "Then come home, son."

A trio of maids entered and placed a trays of serving dishes on the table. Baby sniffed the mingled aromas of sausage, bacon, eggs, grits, and biscuits. "Mmmm," she murmured. "Is there fresh coffee?"

"Food!" Suddenly reminded of the reason they'd left the bliss of Spike's bed, Jean and René both rocketed for the table.

Baby half spun around as René dropped her to her feet in his haste to join Jean at the table. "Damn good thing I'm not breakable anymore," she muttered.

Spike laughed and swept her up in his arms and settled into his accustomed place at the head of the table with Baby secure on his lap. Jean had already sent one of the maids off to fetch fresh blood and was filling a plate with food more suited to a human. He smacked René's hand with the back of a spoon when his brother reached for a biscuit. "Hey!" René protested. "I'm hungry!"

Jean beamed at him. "I know. I'm fixing this plate for you."

René's answering smile was so filled with loving emotion it required Jean to sail across the table and tackle his brother for a kiss.

"Good lord!" Wesley muttered as he guided Drusilla around the pair where they lay on the floor.

"Try not to break my chairs," Baby instructed as she handed Spike his coffee.

Jean sprang to his feet and swooped down upon her. The kiss he gave her elicited another "Good lord," from Wesley. Jean laughed and plucked her from Spike's lap and tossed her to René. "Your chairs are perfectly safe, Maman," he said as a predatory element crept into his smile. "You, on the other hand…"

She gave a shriek as Jean signaled René and his brother tossed her back. "Aaaiii! I'm not a basketball!" she laughed.

Jean kissed her again. He'd never, ever felt so good.

"What on Earth…?"

Cordelia never got a chance to finish her questions. With a cry of "Mémé!", René had her pressed against the wall. "I missed you!"

"Not half as much as I missed you," she said as happy tears sprang into her eyes.

Jean nearly dumped Baby on the floor in his haste to join them. Angel growled softly. He hated seeing his wife with either of her current lovers. However, Cordy had made it very plain that she was not going to hide her affection for either of the Cajuns and that Angel had absolutely no right to say anything to her or them. She'd also promised him that the next time he laid a violent hand on René, she'd divorce him, destroying her consort mark herself. Angel believed her. So he sat and glowered and considered it all part of his punishment. He also fantasized ways to kill his great-grandsons in as violent and lingering a fashion as possible.

Spike tossed his napkin on the table with a ringing laugh. He had Baby pressed to the wall beside Cordelia before his consort even realized his intention. He nuzzled her neck. "I've missed you, too," he said before seizing her mouth and kissing her for all he was worth.

"Good morning all," Anne said as she stepped through the doorway. She turned a quick glance toward what all the others were focused on and froze. "Merciful heavens," she gasped. Wesley was beside her in an instant, guiding her to the table and seating her with her back to her lover and his wife. Angel snarled a greeting and buried his face in his newspaper.

A cry from Baby caused Anne to turn sharply. Her head thrown back in ecstasy, it was obvious Spike was drinking from his wife's throat. Even as Anne watched, Spike lifted blood-stained lips and knotted his hand in Baby's hair. He kissed her quickly but fiercely.

"God, I love you, rose. Always. Bloody hell, woman! The things you do to me!" The intensity of his gaze and the kiss that followed elicited a groan from both Jean and René. They felt both Baby and Spike through their new connection and it was glorious. Cordelia reaped the benefits of their bliss as both brothers increased their already determined assault on her passions. Anne felt quite faint.

Beau strolled in asking for coffee. He glanced toward the quintet across the room as he reversed his chair and straddled it. "About time," he drawled as he stuffed half a biscuit in his mouth. Anne looked at him in shock. "Used to happen all the time," he explained. "Something was wrong with Mama and Daddy if there wasn't sex in public at least once a day." He thought for a moment. "Though, I have to say, the thing with Jean and René and Great-Grandmother is new."

Drusilla passed a cup of tea to Wesley. "I hope they'll have a care. They bent all the crumpets last time."

"And broke half of that set of Royal Doulton y'all brought back from England. Jean bitched for weeks about trying to find replacement pieces." Beau licked the crumbs from his lips. "Don't think he ever did find another gravy boat."

Wesley snorted. "I don't believe he did." He reached out and patted Anne's hand. "You're going to have to accustom yourself to this, I do believe." Angel peered over the top of his paper at Wes, who returned the glance with one ripe with significance. "I believe things have finally begun to right themselves," Wes said. The look he gave Anne was not without sympathy. "You must understand, my dear, we aren't human as much as we may act and appear that way." His gaze flicked to his sire and grandsire. Spike was showering Baby with kisses and sweet words as he undid buttons and zippers. René's shirt was completely gone and Wesley's eyes narrowed at the sight of the mark on his upper shoulder. Now that was more than interesting. Wesley smiled broadly, feeling confident about his family in a way he hadn't for some time. He opened himself to his mother's emotions and was stunned. He'd never felt such happiness.

Beau paused with a second biscuit halfway to his mouth and stared at his uncle. "What?" he said with a frown.

Dru laughed. "Can't you feel it, silly child? The walls are dancing. The ceiling sings." She turned smoldering eyes on her consort. "So does my heart." Wes grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. "I see it all so well. We'll dance and dance and dance until it all ends in fire. We'll smoke and burn but we won't care, will we, my prince?"

"Dru?" Angel said cautiously. "Are you alright?" That sounded suspiciously like one of Dru's prophecies.

That same burning gaze fell on him and he recognized it for what it was: desire. When she held out her hand and hummed both Beau and Angel responded to her call. As Angel bent his lips to Wesley's, Spike gave a cry of desire. René lifted his bloody lips from Cordelia's neck as he felt Jean's fangs slide from his back. Their sire sent them a wordless request and, wrapping Baby's legs around his waist, he carried her from the room. René grinned wickedly and pelted after them. Jean tossed Cordelia over his shoulder and followed in his wake, her giggles and squeals lingering behind them. Angel growled but Wesley shushed him and drew him back into a kiss. Beau never bothered to stir from Drusilla's arms.

Mama Claire, alerted by the racket, took one look at Anne's stunned expression and said, "Come on, honey. You'll want to have your breakfast in your study or maybe the garden. It's nippy this morning but we'll bundle you up."

"I… I don't think I understand what just happened," Anne said softly, allowing Claire to steer her from the room. Claire winced slightly as she heard the sound of breaking china. She'd let Cook know that she'd have to make breakfast again in an hour or so.

She smiled and patted Anne's hand. The girl wasn't that used to vampires for all her history and studies. "You just saw things getting back to normal finally. It always used to be this way. God willing, it'll be that way again." She smiled at Anne's perplexed expression. "Don't worry, child. You'll find your place. We all do. Now, do you want to sit in Lady Roxton's garden and eat your breakfast? That seems a proper place for you this morning."
 

~Fin~