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“The hotel officially closed its doors on December 16th 1979. On that morning the concierge, Roland Meeks, made his morning wake-up calls with a twelve gauge shotgun, room to room. It's been empty ever since.” Wes took a quick bite of his lo-mein before gesturing with his chopsticks towards the large pile of papers he had retrieved from his apartment. “According to city records it was declared a protected historical landmark. The Property Management Company that owns it has been trying to unload it for ten years. No buyers, which is not that much of a surprise. Even a cursory inspection of these records indicates a storied legacy of murder of mayhem dating back to the hotel's construction in '28, when a roofer leapt to his death taking two coworkers with him."
“Okay our dream home has a Steven King vibe, figures.” Buffy said spearing a piece of broccoli with her chopstick, only to have it fall back into the container. Pouting, she looked at Spike, giving him the wide puppy eyed look that she already knew made him melt. “Help, I don’t get this eating with sticks thing.”
Chuckling, he walked over to the side table and dug around in the drawer before he found the pocket sewing kit. Pulling out a good bit of thread he walked back over to Buffy and plucked the sticks out of her hand. Tying them together, he placed them back in her hand and with his hand over hers, showed her how to use them properly.
Wes watched them, completely fascinated at how they interacted with one another. It was like everything else in the world faded away and they became the only two people in the room. He had thought that she and Angel had that same sort of connection but everything he had seen between them in Sunnydale paled to what he was witnessing now. Buffy and Angel had been devoted to one another, of that he had no doubt, but Spike and Buffy moved and flowed together as a single being instead of two separate entities. He could almost imagine the way they would look fighting along side one another; it would be akin to watching a force of nature unleash its wrath.
“It’s a mite funny to be teaching a Slayer how to use pointy sticks.” Spike said as the humor of the moment dawned on him.
“If I was trying to kill the veggies this would be easy.” Buffy muttered darkly, as she tried to repeat what Spike had just shown her. “Go on Wes, you chopstick master you.” Buffy said giving him an encouraging smile. She liked this new improved version of Wes and he was getting bonus points for taking her relationship with Spike in stride. Not once had he been rude to Spike or acted outraged or disgusted by their relationship, which they both appreciated. It was clear he was curious but as long as he was neutral, she could see him becoming a part of their lives.
“Yes, well it’s not often I am better skilled than you Buffy.” Wes said and it would have had a bigger impact if he hadn’t knocked the files off the coffee table with his knee.
Without comment, they all bent down to gather up the papers and photos when Spike let out a low whistle. “What do we have here?”
Taking the photo he held Buffy looked at it a moment before handing it back. “All I see is a bunch of old guys and gals, so if that means something to you, feel free to share.”
Inwardly thrilled that she hadn’t noticed, he smirked at her. “Actually luv, I was talking about one ‘old guy’ in particular whose standing near the back, skulking in the shadows like usual. Don‘t know how you two missed that enormous forehead of his.”
Both Buffy and Wes leaned over and stared at the photo, finally seeing an all too familiar figure in the background. “Okay, that answers that.” Buffy said with a deep sigh.
“Feel free to share luv.” Spike said tossing her earlier words back at her.
“There was probably a girl, naturally one in trouble and he tried to play a mysterious hero only to once again run out when things got rough, leaving some big nasty to cause trouble over the next couple of decades.” Buffy said with a wry grin, without any real heat. “Actually I always wondered if you could take a photo of a vampire and apparently you can.”
“You’re first theory might actually be accurate.” Wes said handing her a news clipping he himself had looked over several times in his own research. “That photo was taken in 52’ and coupled with that clipping it might give us something to go on.”
Buffy read the headline about the search being called off of a wanted fugitive before scanning the brief article detailing the robbery. Buffy looked at the picture of the woman and recognized the same grim reality that she had seen in her own eyes on several occasions. “So let’s say Angel meets this girl, she’s either innocent or she has a really good reason for doing what she did. So since they never found her, he either helped her escape or she’s got something to do with our unwanted house guest.”
“How do you figure that luv?” Spike asked smiling at her like a besotted fool but unable to help himself. It was clear she still cared about Angel, seeing as how she was giving him the benefit of the doubt about this bint but she certainly wasn’t acting like a forlorn lover. She was at ease, even making a snide little joke, which meant that she really had put Angel firmly in the past. Sure she had told him that herself but even though he believed her there was still that tiny thread of doubt and now that he’d seen the truth with his own eyes that last worry was gone.
“I was by the stairs when you and Wes were getting acquainted and I swear I smelt perfume. It was faint but it was there.” Buffy said easily, absently using her chopsticks perfectly as she brought a crisp carrot to her mouth.
“I didn’t notice that and I have been there several times.” Wes said, trying to gather his own impressions of the place. “I can sense whatever it is, because every time I walk inside I feel all the joy and confidence being leached out of me. Which supports the pattern I found in my research. Some force was residing at the Hyperion over the last decades, affecting staff and residents. I just fear there is no real way to..."
“It’s probably a Thesulac.” When they both just looked at him, Spike elaborated. “Paranoia demon. It whispers to its victims, feeds on their innate insecurities until they pick up some homicidal tendencies. Dru and I ran across one in Prague, nasty little blighter, it‘s the reason that sodden mob came after us. They take over places and you have to force it into its corporeal form to kill it. Dru figured it out but before we could do anything, the mob attacked and it we were running to save our skins.”
Wes looked at Buffy to see how she was taking the mention of Spike’s old consort but to his surprise, she didn’t seem concerned at all. It was possible that she didn’t know about their relationship but for some reason he didn’t think that was the case. From what he had seen, they seemed to have a completely open relationship that seemed to suit them both to perfection. He was glad to see Buffy looking so completely at ease; she had always seemed tense, even when there wasn’t a threat to be faced. Yes, he definitely preferred the more relaxed yet mature Buffy Summers, especially since she was treating him with the kind of respect he had all but demanded in Sunnydale. It bolstered his own sense of self worth to have her offer it to him freely, instead of just giving it to him because it was expected. More than ever he longed to know what she had been through this past year. “I’ll research the ritual; I have a contact at an Occult shop in downtown Hollywood so if they have the needed ingredients we can possibly deal with this matter as soon as tomorrow night. So since there is nothing more we can do tonight, perhaps you can tell me about what you‘ve done since leaving Sunnydale?”
“Alright but first tell me what you know.” Buffy asked just as curious about Wes, as he was about her.
“After you failed to resurface, the others went to your home where Joyce told them that you had departed. I was in injured in the attack and was at the hospital at the time and by the time I was released, I checked in with the others. I offered to assist training Faith to which they made it clear my help was not needed or wanted. So I left.” Wes said, doing his best not to sound bitter.
Deciding she’d rather not know if he had offered to help her, she told her own story, staring with Whistler and ending with their trip back to the states. “So, that’s why I’m not obligated to fight the good fight but since it’s something I’m good at, I figured why not.”
Neither man believed that, knowing full well that released from her fealty or not she was still very much the Slayer. Wes could understand how it could mean more to her now that she was the one choosing this path and more than anything he was thankful that she had offered him a place at her side. They wouldn’t be doing it because it was a job they would simply be doing the right thing because they wanted to use their skills to help others. “Thank you for trusting me with this Buffy, I won’t let you down again.”
“Sure you will Wes.” Buffy said with a bright smile. “Just like I’ll let you down a time or two but don’t worry, I won’t kick you out this time around. Just like Spike and I, you look like you're trying to have a fresh start, so we’ll just have to help each other along the way.”
“I rather like the way that sounds.” Wes said returning her smile.