Once Upon a Midnight Dreary by D.M. Evans

Faith paused outside the door to Angel's suite. She heard Angel shouting 'I told you no tree' and thought she heard a gurgling noise. She figured that was Spike. She opened the door to see Angel standing on Spike's back, one hand behind him with a death grip on lit Christmas lights that were wrapped around Spike's neck and in the other was a sizable cut spruce that Angel appeared to be trying to maneuver into planting position. She whipped out her phone and snapped a picture.

Angel stopped trying to impale Spike and the smaller vampire quit wiggling. They both looked at her, horrified. Faith hit speed dial. "Hey, B, sending you a picture. Get Will to download or magic it or whatever. It can be your Christmas card photo." Faith tapped a button then waited a moment for Buffy's response. "Nope, they ain't posing. I think Angel's trying to use Spike's ass a tree stand. Why? How should I know? Ask him yourself."

Faith winged Angel the phone. He dropped the tree to catch it. Spike managed to wiggle free. "Hello Buffy," he said, trying to manifest some dignity. "Because he deserves it. I know Faith sent you pictures of what he did to my office-no, it's not cute. It's ridiculous-he's trying to drive me insane-I have no idea why. Ask him."

Angel lateraled the phone to Spike who was still stripping the lights off his neck. "'Allo Buffy-.because it's bloody good fun, that's why. You should see him get all pissy," Spike said before Faith plucked the phone from his hand.

"Me again, B. See what I have to put up with?-yeah, I know you've been putting up with them longer than me but the only time you had to deal with them as a pair they were the enemy. I don't have the luxury of killing them. I have no idea why Darla and Dru didn't just dust them both and go on a lesbian spree free of the peacock twins."

"Dru liked pole dancing too much," Spike offered with a smarmy grin.

"Darla, too," Angel said then got his embarrassed expression again.

"Hear that, B? They're such men-yeah, I know I like that but you missed hearing the vampire Christmas carols. Hey, I was calling to see if the seer had gotten anything more. Yeah, I figured you'd call if she did but I also wanted to know what Giles thought about the reliability of Tixe demons. Wes thought the information I got from one might be a little dodgy, his words not mine. Our resident vamps can't agree one way or the other on the matter. I thought she seemed too scared of me to lie about Drusilla being seen around the college. Besides, why would a Tixe demon care if I'm out to dust a vampire-demon solidarity?" Faith repeated Buffy's answer quizzically and Angel and Spike shrugged. "It had best not be lying. I had to deal with ravaging hordes of teenaged boys doing the hormone dance-not that it wasn't nice. One of them bought me pie-yeah, I guess he was cute in a short, pale scrawny way."

"Don't knock it," Spike said.

"Spike's sensitive about that sort of stuff being all short and scrawny." Angel patted Spike on the head and the blond punched him.

"Who knows, B-.maybe I'll go look him up once business is over and check out how his gears shift."

"Faith," Angel said, sharply.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, just ask about the Tixe demon when Giles gets in. I've gotta quiz these two about what they found out last night provided Angel is done trying to poke Spike."

"Rephrase that," Angel demanded.

Faith did another eye roll. "What? Damn, no I'll hold." Faith glanced over at Angel. "Incoming seer-o-gram." Angel and Spike both went alert. Faith nodded as she listened. "Got it. I'll tell him. Take care, B."

Faith set her phone on the coffee table and picked up the tree. "Where's the stand?"

Spike fetched it and put it by the living room windows.

"No tree, Faith!" Angel made a half-hearted grab for it. "What did the seer say?"

"Tell me, Scrooge." Faith put the tree in the stand and Spike started anchoring it. "How many sons do you have?" Faith was shocked as Angel's jaw dropped and he took a few steps back nearly tripping over the couch.

He sat on the arm, seeming to have gone paler. "Why?"

"There's that prancing pratt Penn," Spike offered, stepping back to get perspective on the tree's position in front of the living room windows.

"Penn's dust," Angel said, flatly.

"Aww pity," Spike said, dragging over a box of ornaments all glass in deep blue and silver or red and gold.

"But you have more sons, right, Angel?" Faith asked, helping Spike.

He nodded, his eyes profoundly sad. "A few."

"What I can't figure is why I should care that one of your little vamp children is in trouble or why it could be bad for you," Faith said. "Because that's what the seer saw, trouble for blood, trouble for a son and bad stuff for you as a result."

Angel got up and gave in. He started decorating the tree. "I don't know, Faith. Maybe she's got it wrong. Maybe she got it confused and the son was joining with Dru to cause trouble for me," Angel said.

Faith looked at him unconvinced. "Maybe. As far as I'm concerned that seeing the future is a bunch of shit anyhow."

"Agreed," Angel said. "Did you learn anything on campus?"

"Not really. Didn't see Dru at the bar I was told about or should I say bars since I hit so many, not on campus, nothing. Did she come back here?"

"Not so you could tell," Spike said. "And I didn't learn anything. I think Peaches should sing for Lorne."

"Not that desperate yet." Angel turned to Faith. "See if you can find a boy named Connor McGillycuddy. A source told me he's on campus and he might draw Dru's attention."

"Why?" Faith asked. "Is he special in some way, something Dru could use as a weapon?"

"I don't know," Angel said, not looking at her.

Faith didn't know why but she thought he was lying to her. "The kid who bought me pie was named Connor but on a campus that big there's got to be a couple Connors." Faith bounced up from where she had been putting lights around the bottom branches. "Too quiet in here." She turned on the TV flipping through the channels. "Which one is VH1?"

"Like I'd know," Angel shot back.

Faith paused on a newscast. "Shit, look at this!"

Angel and Spike turned their attention to the TV and the woman saying, in too cheery a voice for the details, 'three boys were found murdered in their dorm room this morning by their roommate.'

Connor woke up feeling light-headed and cold. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, realizing he was naked on top of his bed, 'how embarrassing.' He glanced around but his buddies all seemed to be asleep but the room smelled awful. That wasn't too uncommon after a hard nights' partying.¾ Connor stood, his body twinging as he did. He looked down, his eyes widening. He had a giant bruise on the inside of his thigh that reached all the way up to his groin. "Man, what did she do to me?"

Connor felt uneasy about last night. He couldn't remember anything past bringing Dru home. He knew he hadn't had much to drink last night and that had been on purpose. He didn't want to be sloppy drunk in case Faith showed up.¾ There was no reason he shouldn't be able to remember. He pulled on boxers and went to take a leak.

When he came back to his room, Connor paused surveying his friends. Something was wrong. No snoring for one, no sounds at all. Feeling chilled, like all his hair was standing on end, Connor had no idea why he should be so creeped out but he was. All three of his friends were in bed, covered and looked innocently asleep but all his senses were screaming something was wrong.

Connor stopped at Brian's bed first, seeing something brownish-red on his friend's pale lips. Brian didn't kiss girls so it was unlikely to be lipstick. Connor shook Brian's shoulder and his head flopped around. Connor jerked back. Brian felt dead cold and in his neck were two holes.

"Oh god!" Connor's legs shook as he went to Damien and touched his neck. Damien was just as cold with holes in his neck as well. Connor found himself on the floor, his legs unable to hold them. He rolled onto his stomach and vomited. He crawled backwards unable to take his eyes off his friends. He didn't find his voice until he had backed into the hall and the screaming started.

The dorm's RA called the police. Somehow Connor managed to disconnect from his emotions and mechanically called his parents. He couldn't reach them so he did what his dad always told him to do if he were ever in trouble, call his dad's firm and ask for his dad's lawyer. Mr. Gunn had gotten to the school just a little bit after the cops and before they could start questioning him.

Connor sat shaking in a room down the hall, dressed in the first things he could grab from his closet, with one of his other friends when Mr. Gunn arrived. Connor had his arms wrapped around his skateboard. He didn't remember going back into his room for shoes, clothes and his board but he obviously had. Connor couldn't help thinking the man looked too young to be a lawyer and his suit a little too cheap but he knew Wolfram and Hart had an excellent reputation. His dad always said so. Before the lawyer could talk to him, a tall stern looking woman with her red hair pulled into a tail came into the room.

"Mr. McGillycuddy, I'm Detective Ansen, I'd like to talk to you about what happened here," she said, pulling a note pad out of her pocket.

"I'm Mr. Charles Gunn, Mr. McGillycuddy's lawyer. My client has nothing to say at this time," Gunn said and Connor looked at him not shocked by it but at the same time he was. It made him sound so guilty.

The look in Ansen's green eyes said she felt the same way. "Surely there's no harm in a few questions unless there's something your client has something to hide."

"It's my fault they're dead," Connor blurted out.

Gunn whirled on him, his eyes hot. "Don't speak to her."

"I don't mean that I killed them." Connor dropped his skateboard and wrapped his arms around himself.¾ "Look, they were my best friends and I want to help find who did this to them. I know I can help because I think I know who did it."

"I advise you against saying anything," Gunn said, sternly.

"If the boy wants to help, let him," Ansen said, eagerly.

"My client and I should confer before he says another word," Gunn said, putting a hand on Connor's shoulder. He squeezed hard.

"I brought the killer home," Connor said and Gunn's shoulders slumped.

"Look, if you're not going to listen to council, why did you ask for me?" Gunn asked, his voice low and dangerous as his fingers dug in harder.

Connor glanced up at him. "Because I know I'm a suspect. I'm the one who lived so I have to be the main suspect. And I know I should shut up and listen to you but I know I didn't do anything but not get killed."

"The RA said you were seen coming back with a dark-haired woman and she was observed leaving much later by a security guard," Ansen said.

Connor nodded. "Her name is Drusilla. I don't know her last name.¾ I met her the night before last. We danced a little, that's all you know. Nothing major. She turned up at the Belly Up To bar last night again."

"A little young to be in bars, aren't you?" Ansen asked, a predatory glint in her eyes.

Connor shrugged. "Yeah, well, whatever. We came back to my room and then I think I passed out. I did the night before, too. I woke up thinking she must have slipped me something because I can't even remember what happened after I left the bar. I didn't hear my friends return. I didn't hear her kill them. I don't know why she didn't kill me. I mean, she had the time. We were alone and all."

"I think that's enough, Mr. McGillycuddy. You have his statement, Detective Ansen. I'll be taking my client home now," Gunn interrupted.

"Just a few more details." Ansen held up her hand to ward off Gunn's protest. "As to where to contact Mr. McGillycuddy if we need to."

Gunn fished out a card, handing it to her. "You contact me."

"Do you know how she killed them?" Connor asked. "I saw the holes in their necks but no blood-like she stuck needles in them like for when you give blood."

"I can't talk about details," Ansen said. "So, your story is you brought a strange girl home and were too drunk-"

"He never said he was drinking. He said she might have put something in his drink," Gunn corrected.

Ansen nodded. "Fine. You were unconscious while she murdered your friends for reasons unknown and you woke up to find them dead."

"That's his statement, which is inadmissible in court since he was never read his rights," Gunn said.

"Spontaneous admission," Ansen countered.

"See if you can make that fly if it comes down to it," Gunn replied.

"I'm not sure the reasons are unknown," Connor said. "There was a private detective on campus yesterday. She said she was looking for a female killer because a victim's family didn't like how the cops were handling it. You have to know about this."

Ansen's face didn't reveal if she did or not. "What was the detective's name?"

Connor suddenly thought better of giving Faith up. He didn't like being grilled and didn't want to subject anyone else to it. Let the detective find out about the killer herself. He knew there had to be records, after all. He shrugged. "I don't remember her name. The agency had something to do with angel's."

"And that's enough for today. My client is traumatized," Gunn said, dragging Connor up and propelling him toward the door. "He's a young man who just found three of his friends slaughtered. He's going home now."

"We'd like Mr. McGillycuddy to stay in L.A.," Ansen said.

"My parents don't live here-.and I can't stay in the dorm." Connor glanced up the hall where people with CSU on their uniforms were working in his room.

"That's been taken care of. He'll be put up at one of the firm's hotels," Gunn said. "Any further questions, Detective Ansen, can be filtered through me."

"I don't have any clothes," Connor said, still looking at his room.

Gunn turned him and moved him down the hall. "We'll handle that. Your father has an account with the firm. You can use that to buy some new clothes."

"Mr. McGillycuddy, we found some glass pipes and bong with one of you roommate's belongings," Ansen said in a tone that suggested she thought the whole thing might be drug related.

Connor looked over his shoulder and said, "I don't know anything about that."

He let Gunn lead him out of the building and into a waiting limo. They both got in the back. Once they were on their way, Gunn said, harshly, "Next time, you listen to me and you do exactly what I say. I'm making allowances for you being in shock but if you're not going to let me help you, then I'm not going to represent you, understood?"

Connor nodded. "Sorry-where am I going?"

"To the Hyperion Hotel. Wolfram and Hart is renovating it for use for our clients. It's mostly empty because the upper floors are being worked on. It's a little noisy but its good enough to put you up for a few nights until you can reach your parents."

"But the cops don't want me to leave town."

"And they can't stop you unless they arrest you and I don't think they're ready to just yet," Gunn said.

Connor slumped against the seat of the car, tears trickling down his face. He made no effort to stop or hide them.

"What really happened with your friends?" Gunn's voice was far more compassionate now than Connor had ever heard it.

"I wasn't lying to the cop. That's exactly what happened."

"And this detective, was she with Angel investigation's?" Gunn asked, deeply curious.

Connor wiped his face. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"They're a subsidiary of Wolfram and Hart. What was her name?"

"Faith. I didn't get a last name. There isn't one on the card she gave me either. If she works for you guys, maybe you know who killed my friends." Connor shot Gunn a suspicious look.

The lawyer shrugged. "I don't but I'll do what I can to find out what Faith knows. Where do you want to stop to buy clothes?"

"Don't care." Connor curled up on the seat and wept, not caring he had an audience.

He let Gunn decide on the store, grabbed some t-shirts and jeans then went back to the car without a fuss. He was surprised when they stopped at an old hotel. Maybe the name Hyperion should have clued him in that it was a¾ historical place. Inside, the lobby was haunting familiar but he couldn't fathom why. The place gave him the chills. Gunn went to the receptionist and said, "I need the key to Mr. McGillycuddy's room."

"Here you go, sir, room 209," she said, cheerfully.

Gunn led the way but Connor didn't need him to. He had been here before. He didn't know why he felt it but he did. Dþjš vu made his skin crawl. Gunn turned over the key once he opened the door and let Connor and his bags of clothes and skateboard inside. "Here you go. If you need anything, call me on my cellular." Gunn handed Connor a card.

"Yes, sir."

Gunn pointed at him. "And whatever you do, don't speak to the police."

"Yes, sir."

Connor threw himself onto the bed and waited for Gunn to go. He was shivering as he drifted off, thoroughly exhausted. He didn't nap long before he woke, choking down a scream. He didn't dream about his friend surprisingly enough. The hotel itself played in his nightmare, like something out of a slasher flick. He couldn't possibly spend the night.

Connor got his phone. It was something else he had rescued from his room. Funny how the mind works. He grabbed his most important stuff, his board, his phone his wallet and a full set of clothes. He dialed a friend from the Society of Conservation Biology at school. He had her key so he could feed her cat while she was on vacation since he was staying on a week longer than she was. He'd take Beggar to the pet hotel when he left and save Tamar some money.

"Tamar, it's Connor. You saw it on TV? Guess it's national news. Hon, can I stay at your place for a few nights? I can't get hold of my parents and the police want me to stay in town. I'm in a hotel but I'm going nuts here. Thanks, Tamar, I can't tell you what this means to me-yeah okay I'll be testing Beggar's ability to make someone feel better. I-I don't know anything about the funeral arrangements or anything. I can't call their families. Everyone probably thinks I did it. Thanks, it's good to hear someone doesn't think I'm a killer. I'll let you know if I learn anything."

Connor headed for his friend's apartment. Once there, with Beggar the fat black cat on his lap, he took out Faith's card and placed a call.

*
Exhausted from her work at Little Brother's home, Dru slept the sleep of the dead, dreaming of the fun she'd have when everyone was a family again.

Part Four