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Chapter Three Angel's head whips round towards Fred. "She's changing now? In the daytime? Without the full moon?"

Fred nods, looking wretched. "The Mannika venom has given the werewolf autonomy over her system. It doesn't need the moon any more."

On the bed, Nina strains against the chains. Her breath is coming in low, raspy grunts and her head is whipping from side to side. On exposed areas of skin, there's a light covering of downy, green-grey fur.

Chase moves to touch her, but Fred puts a hand on his arm. "I wouldn't," she says softly. "There's nothing else you can do for her now, and she might - she might hurt you."

Angel's mouth sets in a straight line. "If her change isn't controlled by the moon any more - does that mean - " He looks over at Fred, who can't seem to return his gaze.

"Yes," she says quietly. "It means there will be nothing to make her change back. She'll never regain her human form."

Into the silence that follows comes a sudden beeping sound, and Angel jumps. "What the hell is that?"

"It's, uh, it's your cellphone," says Fred looking a little embarrassed. She leans over and pushes a button on the glove of Angel's suit.

"Angel?" says a slightly tinny voice. "It's Wesley. Can you hear me?"

Angel stares at Fred accusingly. "You built a cellphone into this thing?"

"Well, um, yeah. You just keep losing it, otherwise."

"Angel? Are you there?"

He sighs. "Yeah, Wes. I'm here."

"How is it going? Did you find Nina?"

"We did, but - it's not over yet."

"The spell didn't work?"

"No. Fred thinks the Mannika venom and the werewolf had a face-off, and the Mannika lost. She's going into wolf form, and it's looking like she might be stuck that way."

There's a pause. "I'm sorry. I'll do some more research, see what I can come up with."

"Yeah. Thanks, Wes."

"Oh, and Angel - is Fred with you? There's been a delivery for her today - a bit of a strange one. We're not too sure what she wants done with it."

"Yeah, she's here. What is it?"

"According to the documentation, a sarcophagus."

Angel turns to Fred, who looks confused. "A sarcophagus? For me?"

"You sure it's for Fred, Wes? She's looking blank."

"That's what it says. Okay, don't worry about it. I'll check it out."

As Angel presses the wrist stud to end the call, Vogler suddenly steps forward, shouldering Spike out of the way. Spike glares at his back, his nostrils flaring. "This guy," he says, "is really starting to piss me off. And he sure wears a hell of a lot of cologne." He sniffs again. "Bad cologne."

Vogler doesn't spare him a glance. Instead he plants himself firmly in the middle of the room and stares at Angel. "This has gone more than far enough. I want you people out of this room, and out of my hospital. Leave the girl, and get out of here. Right now "

Angel turns slowly, seeming to notice Vogler for the first time. "Who the hell are you?"

Vogler draws himself up to his full height. "I am Edward Vogler," he says in a voice full of quiet menace. "And I am Chairman of the Board of this hospital. Which means, to all intents and purposes, that I own it. Now get off my property."

"Vogler," says Angel slowly, his eyes narrowing. "As in Eastbrook Pharmaceuticals?"

Vogler inclines his head in agreement. "I thought that might get your attention."

"You know, I don't think we've been properly introduced," Angel says, taking a step forward into Vogler's personal space. "I'm Angel, CEO of Wolfram & Hart. I know all about your impressive company, Mr Vogler, and your even more impressive wads of cash. And you may well be a real big fish in a nice big pond who's used to everyone turning into frogs when you say 'jump', but let me tell you right now that you don't scare me. And you don't tell me what to do."

There's a long moment of tense silence as Angel and Vogler stare at each other. Across the room, Spike pulls over one of the visitor's chairs and sits down. "Now this could be interesting," he says. "I don't say this often, but - go Angel!" He looks round. "Anyone got any popcorn?"

Vogler's hands have clenched into meaty fists. He raises his chin. "And what, exactly, do you think you're going to do about it?"

Angel leans in towards Vogler until the faceplate of his helmet is almost touching the other man's nose. "Why don't I show you?" he says.

Spike leans forward in his seat while Fred and Chase take a step back. The guy in the trench coat and bandages waves his hands. "Now, now, kittens. This is all very attractively alpha male, but we're in a hospital. It's not the place for violence."

Chase leans across to Fred. "Is that guy okay? With the bandages, I mean. Does he need me to take a look?"

Fred smiles and pats his hand. "Oh, no. That's just Lorne. He's fine, he just has - uh, a very individual fashion sense."

Angel grins. "Who said anything about violence?" Then he leans back and yells, "Gunn! In here, now."

House, who's been leaning on the back of Spike's chair, nods appreciatively. "Going for the lawyer. That's low. I like it."

After a few seconds, Gunn comes running. "Angel? What's up?"

"Eastbrook Pharmaceuticals," says Angel. "Do we know anything interesting?"

Gunn glances at Vogler, looking him up and down. "Probably. But if we don't, and we need to, I'm sure that won't be a problem."

Vogler frowns, looking from Gunn to Angel. "What are you talking about?"

Gunn smiles. "I have people - well, employees, anyway - in just about any field you care to name. Accounting. Tax. Contracts. Medical research. Share dealing. Ethical review boards, the police, the IRS. If you've ever cut a corner you shouldn't have, or even so much as dropped a gum wrapper and not picked it up, Mr Vogler, I can know about it within ten minutes of making a phone call. And I can make life very, very interesting for you and your company."

"Are you threatening me, Mr Gunn?"

"Absolutely not, Mr Vogler. When I threaten people, I tend to do it with an axe. I'm a traditionalist that way."

House leans down to Spike. "He's good, isn't he."

Spike grins. "You should see him with the axe. Thing of beauty, it is."

Vogler is almost vibrating with rage. "Get out," he says, low and dangerous.

"Oh, I don't think so," says Gunn. "I think -"

Fred cuts in. "I think so."

They all stare at her. "I think we do need to get out of here," she says, then looks down at Nina. "I think we need to get her out of here. Away from - from people." She looks up at Angel again. "She doesn't have much time."

Nina makes a sound that really could only be described as a roar. When she opens her mouth, there's no mistaking the fangs this time.

"Shit," says Gunn.

"Okay," says Angel. "We need to move." He points at Vogler. "You. Good news, you get what you want. For now, anyway. Now get out of my way. You - " he turns to Chase, Foreman and Cameron - "can you give her something? Knock her out, or at least calm her down?"

House looks over at them. "Isn't this the point where one of you should say 'I'm a doctor, not a vet?"

Foreman shakes his head. "You really are a piece of work, aren't you?"

House shrugs. "I'm watching my patient turn into a werewolf. I think that should cut me some slack when it comes to the use of inappropriate humour as a coping mechanism."

"Huh," says Spike. "Inappropriate humour as a coping mechanism. I like that. Remember that for me, willya Charlie? I'm sure I can get some mileage out of that."

"Can we please just focus, people?" snaps Angel.

"I don't think you should be moving her," says Cameron. As she reaches across the bed, Nina snaps at her hand. She gives a little shriek and pulls back. "Okay, maybe you've got a point."

"We're going to need confinement facilities," says Fred. "There's no way we've got time to get her back to L.A." She checks her gadget again. "We've got maybe half an hour at most."

Angel looks at her. "Fred - is there any way we can stop this happening? Anything we can do?"

She doesn't respond, but her face is enough of an answer. Angel sighs. "Okay. Then yeah, we need somewhere to take her. Somewhere that'll hold her." He looks around, with an expression that isn't really hopeful. "I don't suppose you have a cage on the premises?"

House shakes his head. "Budget cuts," he says. "You know what it's like."

Chase clears his throat. "I know a place."

Everyone looks at him. "Well, aren't you the dark horse?" says House.

Cameron takes a step backwards and folds her arms. "You have a cage?"

"No, no. It's not mine. I just - I know someone who does. She has a, uh, a dungeon. Cage, manacles, that kind of thing. You know."

"Can't say I do," says Cameron.

"Your loss," says Spike, getting out of the chair. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go see the Doc's dungeon-master." He glances over at Chase. "Her name's not Drusilla, is it?" He pauses. "Or Buffy?"

"Uh, no. It's Emma."

Angel glares at Spike. "Buffy?"

He gets a smug grin in return. "You never knew her, did you?"

"Buffy," says House, in a nostalgic tone. "Now there was a woman."

Angel's glare swivels towards him, quickly joined by Spike's.

"Kidding," says House, holding up his hands. "It was just too tempting."

"Top tip, sweetpea" says Lorne, leaning in. "Don't tease the vampires. They get cranky. Especially about Bu - about she-who-must-not-be-named."

"Okay. No more Buh, I promise. But it does sound like there's a good story in there."

"Yeah," says Spike. "Maybe I'll tell it to you when it gets to be bedtime."

"I think I need some help here," says Chase, hesitating near Nina's bed with a syringe in one hand. She's thrashing so wildly the whole bed is shaking. Angel catches one arm while Spike holds down the other, and she snarls in fury.

Chase injects the drug, which seems to have no effect whatsoever. He shakes his head. "I can't risk giving her any more. That was already a higher dose than I'd normally dare use. I don't know what it might do."

"Bugger all, by the looks of it," says Spike. He takes a half-step back, then punches Nina square in the face. Her head snaps to the side, and she's still.

"Sorry, pet," he says. "But we're on a deadline here and there's no time for playing nice."

Angel growls and reaches over the bed, grabbing the collar of Spike's coat in one gloved hand.

"She's out," says Chase, checking her breathing. "But I don't know how long for. I'm not saying I approve of his choice of anaesthetic but we might as well make use of it. So I think you two need to put your issues on hold while we get her out of here."

"Thank you," says Spike, pulling his coat out of Angel's grip and smoothing it down. "At least someone appreciates a bit of efficiency."

Angel hesitates, but finally throws up his hands and turns to Chase. "Okay. Let's do this. Get her up, chain her hands and feet and get something to use as a gag. And we're going to need someone's car."

"More than one," says House. "We'll take Chase's and Foreman's."

"Oh, will we?" says Foreman.

"Well, Cameron's little girly number is too small to be any use and we're not taking mine - I have a strict 'no pets' policy."

"What makes you think you're even coming with us?" asks Angel.

"She's still our patient, and I'm not letting her leave this hospital without knowing she's still going to have medical care. Whatever mumbo-jumbo you've got in mind, you're still going to need a doctor around. And there's no way I'm going to miss out on seeing Chase's dungeon."

"Emma?" says Chase into a mobile phone, one finger stuck in his ear. "It's Rob. Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Listen Em, I need to use your place." He pauses. "Now. Like, right now. We'll be there in ten minutes. What? Well, you'll have to tell them it's double-booked. We'll pay you more." He looks over at Angel, who nods. "Trust me - money's not a problem, Em." He pauses again, then gives a short bark of laughter. "Yeah, yeah, bad day at the office. You could put it like that."

He hangs up. "It's sorted."

"Cameron," says House. "You're Command Central, okay? You stay here and keep an eye on things."

Her mouth falls open. "What? You're leaving me behind?"

"I have a duty to look after your moral welfare. Can't go leading you into a den of iniquity, now can I? I'd never forgive myself if you got all corrupted."

While Spike gives him a disbelieving look, Cameron sinks into a chair with a frustrated sound. Angel pulls a business card out his pocket and hands it to her. "This is the private line of the guy I was talking to earlier - Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. He's a friend of mine, and he's a good guy. If anything bad happens, call him."

Cameron takes the card, looking suddenly wary. "Is something bad likely to happen?"

Angel hesitates. "It just never hurts to be prepared."

He walks back to the bed, lifts Nina up and heads for the door, cradling her in his arms.

Fred pats Cameron on the shoulder as she goes past. "Thanks for everything," she says. "You were great. Really. You just handled the whole, you know, situation, so well."

Cameron sighs. "Yeah, well, I guess I'm used to working for a monster. Makes the disbelief easier to suspend."

"She loves me really," says House to nobody in particular, and Cameron throws him a sour look.

"Okay, boys and girls," says Spike, throwing a blanket over his head, "let's go."

TBC...