Let It Rain
An unfamiliar face crowded the entryway to Angel Investigations, but Spike did not let that slow him down.
The hotel had come to life at some point between his arrival and the evening’s deepened end. Amazing that a building that had looked to be abandoned could activate with all the general expectancy that coincided with the detective agency motif. It was broadened and had an effect that almost soothed. As though the string of normality so craved, despite the concurrence of recent events, was not far out of reach.
The only unusual aspect was the icy blonde woman lurking beside the entry. She was looking at them expectantly; gaze convicting them of a crime they hadn’t heard the charges to. He granted her a half-interested nod before turning his attention to the expectant eyes that immediately demanded for attention without saying a word.
“Evenin’, all.”
“Don’t ‘evening all’ us!” Cordelia snapped, though he could tell she wasn’t genuinely upset. “You have some explaining to do, mister!”
He arched a brow. “’S it about the pig’s blood? Well, luv, hate to break it to you, but a vamp’s gotta eat.”
Gunn was reclined comfortably against the front desk, his arms folded crossly athwart his chest. A snicker rumbled through lips, and he earned an inquisitive look in turn. “If only,” he said, chuckling in spite of himself. “Man oh man, are you ever in for it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you could sing like that?!” The irate brunette had graced his arm with several meaningful swats, and it didn’t look like she was calming down any time soon. “I used to have connections! You could’ve made it big!”
“Like that vampire from what’s-her-face’s novel,” Gunn added.
Spike rolled his eyes. “Sodding no. I din’t tell you ‘cause I don’ sing…often. Or voluntarily, less ‘s for somethin’ special.” Without prompt, he turned on his heels to usher in the guest, who passed the anonymous woman with a polite, if not uncomfortable smile. It was more than obvious that despite surroundings, he wasn’t entirely at ease with the set up. And that was reasonable. The walk back had been tedious and silent. There was some reluctant camaraderie; they were not going to go out of their way to be friends.
Reluctant associations. Spike was a tool for vengeance; Zack was a tool for leverage. And that was the way it was.
“Anyway, let’s make around the room with the introductions,” the vampire said, gesturing his companion forward. “Cordy…” He turned to the woman standing at the door and appraised her with another nod, “bint I don’ know, an’ Charlie—” Gunn offered a throaty cough at that, but he earned little more than a cocky smile in turn. “—meet Zack Wright. Bloke who wants me an’ all of my kind dead.” He nodded to Wesley, who was staring slightly agape. Wide-eyed and dumbfound. “Wager you two need no introduction.”
The former Watcher finally snapped back to himself and moved forward, steps colored with astonishment. “Well, I’ll be damned. Zachary! How are you?”
At that, the stern façade that had guarded the hunter’s exterior seemingly faded, and he offered a kind smile. “Wes. Good to see you.”
“What on earth brings you all the way to Los Angeles?”
A sigh rumbled through Zack’s throat and he fidgeted slightly. The sort of conduct that screamed an uncomfortable disposition. “I was dropped a lead a few weeks ago, about Darla.” He wisely ignored the telling and rather triumphant sparkle that overwhelmed the vampire at that. An answer without the obligatory pestering. “I had to come.” He stepped forward at that, eyes narrowing. “The last I heard, she was eating dust.”
“Yes, well…” Wesley glanced down self-consciously. “Wolfram and Hart have powerful means of getting what they want. Evidently, she managed to wheedle her way to the top of their list.” He nodded at Spike. “He’s all right. We have an…associate that has a way of seeing into the intentions of others.”
Spike arched a brow. “You chatted up Lorne ‘bout me?”
“Of course,” he replied. “We had to be sure. After all, we were taking a lot on faith.”
“An’ here I could’ve sworn that was your sodding motto. You are the goody good guys, right?”
“Ahem?” Cordelia said from her corner, waving a little. “Hello? You guys mind filling us in, because I really think we missed something.” She pointed to the hunter skeptically. “Who’s this and how do you know him?”
“I jus’ gave the introduction,” Spike grumbled. “Doesn’ anyone around here pay attention?”
“Zack Wright,” Wesley retorted, ignoring the undead houseguest. “A vampire hunter I met in San Antonio. This is the man who inspired me to engage in the practice of rogue demon hunting before I joined the Angel Investigations team last year.”
Gunn chortled. “That must’ve been a picture.”
“I’m afraid your arrival couldn’t have come at a better time,” the former Watcher continued. “We have a situation on our hands that—”
“Yeah, Spike told me.” Zack nodded professionally, dislodging his crossbow and bag to the floor. “The Order of Aurelius. And something about a…Slayer?”
“Oh, they’re kinda like you,” Cordelia offered, moving forward intently, “only female and Chosen…and they have this super-strength thing going for them. And it’s a part of this larger thing… Anyway, Wes used to be in the mix, so he can fill in the blanks.”
The air filled with the crisp attention of an unfamiliar tenor; the same undoubtedly owned by the woman at the doorway. She didn’t look any less severe than she had upon first entrance, but Spike wagered that she had held back a little of her usual attitude and forwardness. “Excuse me,” she said, before immediately finding herself the center of attention. “Not that I’m not sure this all very important, not to mention interesting, but there are more imperative things right now. Cordelia, I—”
“Right, right,” the brunette agreed sharply. “Spike, this is Detective Kate Lockley. You’ll like her; she hates Angel. Anyway, she’s here on behalf of Wolfram and Hart.”
“Spike?” Lockley repeated, arching an incredulous vampire. There was no mistaking the note of distaste that colored her voice. “As in, one of them? More vampires?”
Zack pivoted sharply to her, his interest suddenly piqued.
The peroxide Cockney rolled his eyes. “Oh for cryin’…twice in one night. Yes, I’m a vampire. There, ‘s out. Everyone stop makin’ a big thing outta it. I’m a vampire. A bad, evil, scary, vampire—”
“Not really helping the cause,” Cordelia warned through her teeth.
“And I would reconsider the ‘scary’,” Gunn suggested.
Wesley stepped forward, intrigued. “You know about Spike?” he asked softly.
Kate nodded, her distrustful gaze never abandoning the peroxide vampire. “Yes,” she replied. “After the truth about Angel came out in all its deceitful glory, I spent quite a few days becoming very acquainted with his family tree.” She took a few bold steps toward the Cockney, accusing eyes refusing to falter. “I know all about you. William the Bloody, right? For impaling people with railroad spikes?”
A terribly flustered look overwhelmed him, and Spike backpedaled. “Erm, no. Tha’s where the nickname comes from. William the Bloody an’ all that rot’s a very dull, not-worth-mentionin’—”
“So, two nasty monikers,” Zack muttered distastefully. “Great.”
“The other one’s for butcherin’ somethin’ a li’l less human, mate.” He turned back to Lockley. “Not that it matters for rot now. I really don’ give a damn what you think of me, luv. You say you came ‘ere on behalf of Wolfram an’ Hart? ‘Ave you heard her? Seen her? Is she—”
“What are you talking about?”
Gunn snickered. “We never got to tell you. Spike here’s a little preoccupied with a heroic rescue mission. Seems your favorite vamp snagged his favorite Slayer. Trust me, you’ll have the full story soon. Damn Brit can’t talk about anything but.”
“I haven’t heard anything about a Slayer,” Lockley replied. “Only that you mentioned one a minute ago. What is that? Another demon?”
Spike rolled his eyes. “You did all your vamp homework but never bothered to look up the Slayer? Wow. A true note in investigative reportin’. Nice work, Detective.” He turned expectantly to Wesley. “Well, go ahead. This is your territory, right?”
At that, the former Watcher rolled his eyes and straightened. He looked like a schoolboy about make a recitation of a speech had long ago memorized and grown bored with. “In every generation there is a Chosen One,” he said monotonously. “She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer.” He shook his head. “God, I never realized how much that sounds like some deranged fraternity chant.”
“You actually have one in custody,” Cordelia said. “Remember Faith? The fugitive that Angel was harboring last year that you pulled a major wig over?” She paused at that. “Oh wait. You do that over everything. Anyway, never mind, she was a Slayer.”
Lockley frowned in confusion, gesturing to Wesley. “But he just said there’s just one in every generation,” she replied. “How—”
“Something about how Buffy died for like a second. It called the next Slayer, even if she didn’t formally kick it,” Cordelia explained. “It’s a screwy, flawed system. What can I say? Anyway, she and Angel had this torrid love affair that ended in general nastiness—”
Spike snickered.
“—so, naturally, as Angelus, she would be one of the first people he’d wanna target. Wolfram and Hart decided to take it a step up in that direction. They had Darla and Drusilla—you’ve read about Dru, right?—snatch her up from Sunnydale. Spike here has, for whatever reason, developed the major Buffy-boner, and—”
“Oi!”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Puhlease, Spike. You’re not fooling anyone.”
Gunn shook his head, smothering an arrogant smile. “You’re really not.”
“Hell,” Zack offered, grinning broadly now. “I’ve only known you for an hour and I could tell that right off.”
“Other than the fact that I told you right off,” Spike retorted. Then he was sulking. “Right. ‘S not like the lot of you have to rub it in.”
In an odd moment of synchronicity, the three locked gazes and marked their objection. “Yes we do,” they decided.
“Regardless,” Kate interrupted, dragging everyone back into hindsight. “Lindsey didn’t tell me any of this. All he said was that Angel had turned and that I should—”
“Lindsey told you as much as he could without incriminating himself,” Wesley clarified slightly. “I know he’s being indicted for warning us before Angelus could tear us apart. Bringing you in is not going to help him, and Wolfram and Hart does not tolerate negligence on the company line.”
“He’s doing as much as he can without getting himself sacked,” Gunn agreed. “And that’s the literal sort. Sacked and dumped somewhere.”
Spike sighed, caressing his brow with the foreknowledge of an impending headache. “So, this bloke din’t mention Buffy?”
“The Slayer?” He nodded. “No. Just that…I should come here.”
“Well, that was right considerate of him.”
“How are you hoping to get close to her, anyway?” Cordelia asked. “It’s not like you can walk in there and say, ‘Oh, by the way, you know that blonde that you snatched from Sunnydale? Well, we’d really like her back, if you don’t mind.’ Honestly, have you thought this through at all?”
His eyes widened. “’ve done all I can! Came to you sods, let you drag me to some demon pub, bloody sang, an’ nearly waved goodbye to my dusty bits ‘cause I thought it’d be of some sodding use. What was that? A bloody rouse? I’m not used to playin’ a white hat! This is the best I can do. A li’l help would be appreciated.” An irritated string of profanity perturbed the air, and he began pacing. “God, this is all so buggered up. ‘F I ‘ad jus’ kept my big mouth bloody shut in SunnyD, I could’ve gone with ‘em an’ gotten her out that way. But oh no. Darla the Fucking Herald has to mention that li’l diddy after she’s so bloody sure I’d decline an’…God, I wanna rip her innards out.”
A shadow flickered over Zack’s face. “Get in line,” he said quietly.
“Can’t you just contact them and say that you’ve changed your mind?” Cordelia wondered.
Spike’s gaze narrowed. “Yeh, ‘cause that won’t look suspicious at all.”
“Well, sorry! I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“Wait,” Wesley said, stepping forward. “Angelus’s pattern is to torture his victims extensively. If Buffy has been in his hands this long, it is safe to consider that she has already—”
A very still, very cold note rang through the room. Spike’s hands formed fists at his sides, his bumpies threatening to emerge on the very thought. The look he delivered was sharp and dangerous, and everyone in the room, regardless of disposition, was suddenly very grateful for the chip. “Finish that sentence,” he growled, “an’ I’ll make you wish you were never born.”
Zack’s brows arched skeptically.
Cordelia was quieted for the moment, but decided to go for broke anyway. Her voice was considerably softer than before. Meek and, if possible, frightened. “Gee Spike,” she said with a slight titter. “Cliché much?”
It was silent for another long moment.
“Okay,” Gunn said loudly, snapping everyone back into place as he rubbed his hands together. “And we’ve established that Spike can still be scary. All opposed? All right. I stand corrected. Either way, man, chill. It was nothing personal. I think Wes was just trying to make a point.”
“I was,” the former Watcher agreed. “Admittedly, I have never encountered Angel in his…darker state…I don’t believe that he would have…” He glanced up hesitantly, but the vampire’s eyes had softened even if his glare had not. “I don’t believe he would have killed Buffy, despite the consistency of habit. With a Slayer, I believe he would…”
“Make it as painful as possible,” Lockley voiced from her corner. She earned a glare for her observation, but matched it all the same. “And that means as long as possible. Right?”
“Precisely.” Wesley nodded before turning back to the platinum vampire. “But you wouldn’t know that. If you approach the Order now with the front that you seek penance for your…transgression without Buffy involved, then—”
“Why would they believe that Spike wouldn’t know this Slayer chick is alive?” Zack demanded. “I’d think that a vamp that knows them as well as he does would have figured all this out sooner than two people who’ve read up on it.”
The peroxide Cockney pointed to him appraisingly. “The boy’s gotta point. Theory doesn’ fly, Wes.”
“Because you know Angelus’s mannerisms better than anyone.”
“’E’s not gonna be too keen on believin’ me as it is. Last time I was face-to-face with the Great Poofter in all his evil glory, I tried to knock his head off with a crowbar.”
Cordelia’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Remember that whole Acathla thing? Yeh. Pulled a truce with Buffy then, too.” Spike snorted. “For the ‘good of human kind.’”
“You didn’t have a thing for her then, did you?”
His eyes widened, appalled. “Of bloody course not!” came the vehement denial, followed irrefutably by a sea of unconvinced gazes. “Well, it wasn’ what I feel for her now. More like mutual admiration as well as raging hatred for my mortal enemy, all right? Sure, I woulda…” He trailed off and cleared his throat. “Truthfully, I sided with her then to get Dru back. Dru din’t take kindly to that. An’…well, the rest isn’ important.”
Wesley pursed his lips. “My point was this,” he continued. “If you call or contact Angelus, Darla…whomever it is that you would…to see if their offer still stands, and presume a façade of surprise when word of the Slayer is mentioned, then—”
“They’ll still find it suspicious, mate,” Spike retorted. “Trust me. No one makes for a sudden change of heart of that bloody magnitude. Not where they’re concerned. An’ I was much too forthright with my…feelings for the Slayer when Darla chatted me up, ‘cause I’m a right wanker.”
“How forthright?” Cordelia asked.
“She mentioned Dru was attackin’ Buffy, an’ I bolted from my crypt.”
“Wow,” the brunette commended, brows arched. “You’re dumb.”
“To say the least.” Then he frowned. “Oi!”
Zack ducked his head to shadow the grin that instinctually claimed his lips.
“Regardless of plausibility,” Wesley continued, holding up a hand. “Does anyone here have a better proposition? If we cannot get Spike to work from the inside, then getting Buffy out and to safety is going to take a measure of cunning that she might not have time to sit around and wait for. In spite of Angelus’s altered mode of operation, he will eventually tire of her.” His eyes focused intently on the flustered peroxide vampire. “Won’t he?”
There was nothing to say to that. Spike’s silence spoke for all the things that he could not.
“If Darla refuses to adhere to her offer, then we need to know now,” the former Watcher decided firmly. “Else, we are simply wasting time…and that is something that Buffy cannot afford.”
A beat of reflective silence settled through the lobby. Calmly tense in some incongruous respect. Spike turned away, afraid his eyes would betray the weight of his concern—something that, despite whatever jokes had been made at his expense, had only been explored in the quantity of the iceberg’s tip. A fraction of what awaited in a sea of uncharted feelings. His plethora that insisting on maintaining a safe, steadfast distance.
The wrong decision could cost the Slayer her life.
And he would never recover. Never forgive himself.
Too much was riding on a simple yes or no.
“Spike,” Wesley said softly. “If this fails, we will find another way. I promise. We’re going to put up a fight…we just need to know where we stand.”
And that was that. The vampire nodded, realizing for the strike of no particular epiphany that he truly wasn’t alone. A notion that struck deep—engorged firmly in his gut in a way that was unsurpassable to any sense of belonging that he had ever felt with the Scoobies. The dawn of new reason.
These people were going to help him. Trust him. Because they wanted to.
“Right,” he agreed, closing his eyes as he reached the end of his proverbial tunnel. One of them. The first of many. “So how do I go ‘bout this? Waltz into Wolfram an’ Hart an’ schedule an appointment with the Great Poof between torture sessions?”
“Call Lindsey,” Cordelia offered. “He’s our best bet right now.”
“Great. Leave it in the hands of the lackey.”
“He has a thing for Darla. She trusts him.”
“Even with all the runnin’ around behind their backs that he’s done?”
At that, Lockley spoke up. “I don’t think they know about that. From what McDonald told me, the firm is trying to keep the Order as secluded as possible from their outer dealings. They want them at their disposal if and when the time comes…but Darla had set the grounding that they’re not going to be working for the firm; the firm would be working for them.”
Zack bristled and turned from the crowd. “Some things never change.”
Spike extended his arms in open welcome of advice, brows quirking as he surveyed the room for the first taker. “All right then. Into the bloody belly of the beast it is. Anyone ‘ave any sodding suggestions that might mark a scale on the helpful side? I’m all ears.”
There was a beat of silence and the exchange of several blank glances.
“I have the number to McDonald’s private line,” Lockley finally offered, stepping forward and digging out a business card. It was to the dry-cleaners, Spike noted with some amusement, but the extension to Lindsey’s line was scribbled on the back. “He wanted…well, he wanted me to keep in touch. In case things got out of line.”
“What were you gonna do?” Cordelia demanded skeptically. “Throw stones at Angel? Hon, he’s not exactly gonna be a pushover. The only reason you got close to him in the past was because he was Angel. Angelus is a completely different matter.”
Spike nodded but snatched the proffered number up anyway. “Yeh,” he murmured. “Luv, you can read up on us all you bloody well want to. Din’t do much good for Zangy over here.” He gestured to Zack, who looked both confused and slightly affronted at the brandishing of a random nickname, but everyone else seemed to follow without hindrance. “’m not the bloke I’m depicted to be throughout history—though some of the stuff they’ve jotted down is right complimentary. I did a lot of badness, but I wasn’ as…” The vampire stopped again when he realized he was the center of several pointedly accusing glares and held out his hands again. “All right, I was a mean, nasty bastard. But Angelus? Much as I hate to admit it, you can’t confine what ‘e did to others to paper an’ expect any degree of accuracy. The stuff I’ve read up on him for laughs paints a monster, but not a legend. An’ that’s what he strove for. The bloody legend. Had to be the best at everythin’. When it came to bein’ a nasty bugger, he beat out the lot of us.”
“I think the best option is to call Lindsey,” Wesley maintained. “Establish contact. Claim that you have rethought your position, and now wish to rejoin your family. If they don’t buy it, at least we know where we stand.”
There was a heavy breath of concession. Spike’s eyes found the ground, evidently fascinated with an unmoving spot etched across the marble. When he spoke again, the tenor of his voice had dropped several degrees. Nearly compassionate; the closest to human anyone had ever seen him approach. It wasn’t prompted—it was just. And that made it all the more real. “I’m hesitant to do anythin’,” he admitted softly. “’m…what ‘f they jus’ kill her? ‘Cause of me?”
A note of respected silence flittered through the air.
“It’s a bad situation,” Lockley finally said. The statement in itself was more than obvious, but her observation of its existence was somehow soothing. Even if the line of sincerity was difficult to draw.
“They’re not going to wait around for you to make a move,” Wright added. “It’s not like they know you’re in town.”
Cordelia arched a brow. “Actually, they probably do. It’s hard for a pin to drop in this city without Wolfram and Hart being all over it.”
“But that doesn’t mean they’re relating the information to Angelus and Darla,” Wesley continued. “Chances are, if Lindsey is in charge—”
“—I don’t know that he’s in charge,” Lockley interceded sharply. “He’s just the one who contacted me.”
“Be that as it may, I don’t believe he would have gone out of his way unless he thought that things were slipping from the firm’s control. Wolfram and Hart might be a powerful, deadly force, but the Order of Aurelius has older blood working at its side. Darla is four hundred, and her sire was the oldest in recorded history.” The former Watcher stroked his jaw in thought, breaking into a segmented and more sedated pace that mimicked Spike in stride if not in speed. “Lindsey’s warning to us came out of civility. It wasn’t because he thought that the situation had exceeded their control. His move to use you, Detective, as a bargaining tool, solidifies his status. He doesn’t want to be directly implicated. If his pattern has shown anything, it’s that he is deliberately taking baby steps, attempting to keep Angelus from the loop of what is going on in the corporate office.” He stopped and glanced up. “And in doing so, I believe they will try to keep Buffy alive as long as possible.”
Zack frowned. “Why?”
“To keep them occupied,” Gunn concluded.
Spike shook his head, unconvinced. “I still don’ see how tha’s gonna amount to rot. ‘F Peaches finds somethin’ he wants done, ‘e does it. Sod the wankers in charge an’ all that. An’ yeh, she’ll keep him busy for a while. Doin’ things…to her…” He stopped once more and his eyes went dark. It didn’t take as long as expected. Rather, the platinum vampire drew in a deep breath and nodded after a few seconds. “Right. Right. ‘S better to know now where we stand. ‘F they touch her, I’ll—”
Everyone immediately tensed again at the sign of an impending tangent. Gunn seized initiative; stepping forward sharply and placing a neutral hand on the vampire’s shoulder. “Save it for the baddies, man. I think I speak for everyone when I say, we know what you’re going to do them isn’t pretty.”
“Yeesh,” Cordelia agreed, nodding emphatically. “I can only imagine. Have I told you recently that you’ve got it to a degree of bad that I thought couldn’t be achieved before?”
Spike snickered but didn’t reply, turning instead to Lockley. “Right then,” he said diplomatically. “Looks like I got me a phone call to make.”
To be continued in Chapter Fifteen: Ashes…