Spike:
Red's somewhere in LA, alone; haven't been able to get the thought out my head all day. Feels like it's bloody echoing. I know she's an adult, and a plenty powerful witch, but I remember a scared little teenage girl who could barely levitate a pencil or speak to strangers, and that image overlays the reality. I make fun of Buffy for worrying, but I'm just as bad, really. Not like I'd admit that.
A workday at Wolfram & Hart is about what I imagine Hell is like. I get stuck up to my eyeballs in either freakish Hollywood types or dusty old books. Never thought I'd say it, but odds on I prefer the books. Least they don't try to grab my ass all the ruddy time.
Watcher Jr. isn't doing well; expect him to go bug-shagging any minute, have done since Fred…Anyway. Tried a few times to speak to him, but I don't know ‘em enough to figure what’ll help, and anyway help is the last thing he wants. Sitting across a table from him, translating what we can find on the Circle of the Black Thorn, I wonder if it wouldn't be a mercy to let him die. He's not a bad sort, and he's in pain, know enough to figure that.
"Hey, Watcher."
It takes a bit before I get a reaction, and then it's as though anything I say would be dreadfully tedious. "Yes, Spike, what do you want now?" Like I've been a bloody thorn in his side all day.
"Red's in town. We're having dinner later, and I figured you might wanna come along. Be fun. You could use some." Willow can help him far better than I. Don't want him to think I'm worryin’ about him. Would be bad for my image.
Wesley gives a tired sigh. "We have work to do, and I'm not about to tag along with you and your questionable friends for a night out. If I meant to spend time with demons, I'd stay here, thank you." His gaze returns to his book, so he misses my dramatic eye roll.
"Questionable friends indeed. That's no way to talk about Willow, now is it? Thought you liked the bird. I still say, it would be good of you to come with us." I return my own gaze to the pages before me, wondering why so many books on this particular topic come from the Middle East. S'pose it's not surprising; those sands seem to breed evil. Was a right nice place to visit, lots of mayhem before the humans killed off most of the demons.
"Willow? Willow Rosenberg?" I look up from the text before me to meet Wesley's frown. "Whatever are you doing meeting with her?"
I, of course, don't think before I respond. "She's in town meeting up with some Slayers, and we're gonna have dinner. I mentioned dinner, didn't I?" Then it clicks why he's looking at me like that. Andrew's little speech about us working for opposite teams, Giles and Buffy not trusting Wolfram & Hart. And, of course, Wesley has no idea I've been in touch with Buffy.
"'S not work related, if that's what's got you in a snit. Just an even' with an old friend. Not much chance I'll make it out of LA alive, when she called I figured I'd say goodbye." Yeah, that seems convincing. I can fill him in on the details later. "So, you wanna join us, or are you gonna sit here and wallow in your misery all bloody night?" I get up, glancing at the clock to confirm what my body already knows; sun's about to set. "Gotta be off in a bit, told Red I'd ring her 'round sunset."
I look back at Wesley, find him sizing me up like he's bloody well gonna make me a new suit. I'm trying not to be rash; we’re facing the end of the world, here, and I'd like not to get staked before I get a few shots in. Man's unstable enough for almost anything at the mo’. After a minute, I give up and turn for the door. Guess I'm on my own with Red. Hopefully she'll have at least one Slayer in her pocket.
"Spike." I turn to find the Watcher hauling himself out of his chair. "Actually, I would like to see Willow."
I fight the urge to smile, and just nod in his general direction. "Good. You could use a decent meal." I turn back for the door. "Let's go, then."
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I wait to call until we're in the car, to find that Willow's not back at the hotel. "Well, can I leave her a message, then?"
"Of course, sir. What would you like us to tell her?"
I frown, wondering if there's anything I can say that won't arouse suspicion in a normal person. "Tell her that Spike called, and that…"
"I'm sorry, sir, but I need your last name to fill out the message form."
I sigh, wishing I could reach through the phone and wring the too-chipper bird's neck. "Spenser. Look, just tell her I called, and Wesley's with me. Got that?" I know I'm being short with the lady, but driving in this bollixed traffic while talking on the phone has me agitated.
"Mr. Spenser, yes. Ms. Rosenberg called and left a message in case you called. She'll meet you in the lobby, and two guests will be joining her for dinner." I pull the phone away from my ear to stare at it in confusion. Willow left a message for me. I'm surprised she bloody well knew my real name, let alone used it. I put the phone back to my ear and thank the bint before I hang up on her, then call and make reservations for dinner. Wolfram & Hart's buying.
"We're meeting with whom again?" Wes sounds bothered, so I figure I'd better start talking.
"Yeh, Red's bringing 'couple of people with her. Never met 'em." Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I see his expression darken. "Most likely they're the Slayers she came to recruit. I'd say old friends, but I doubt there are many left." I shrug and make an effort to look calm and unconcerned. I'd love to explain the whole plan, but I know how Evil Inc. works, and the chance is too great that the car is bugged. Bugger this; we should've taken a bloody taxi. The big guys 've gotta have tracking on this thing.
As soon as I think that, I get the mental picture of little Red kidnapped and tied up by yours truly a while back, and shudder. God, I'm turning into a bloody gigantic ponce. Time was a little danger wouldn't have upset me a bit, now I'm fussing over the witch like SHE was my girl. Before I can stop myself listenin' to the 'protect Red' instinct, I'm pulling into the parking lot of a different Hilton. Wes follows without a word, and I send up my own version of a prayer to whoever might be listening that I managed to ditch the car without it becoming an argument.
We get a taxi in front of the hotel, with Wesley studying me once again. I think he's been spending too much bloody time with Illyria. "I was just thinking, all things being equal, it would be foolish to trust anything from the motorpool." I murmur, trying to move my lips as little as possible.
He nods, but I can still feel his eyes on me, and on top of my nerves about the upcoming battle and about Red it's too bloody much. Once we're on our way I turn to him. "Look here, Wes, the girls are going to help us. Well, I bloody well hope they are. Red's in our camp, willing to do whatever we need."
"Giles sent us some help?" Wesley looks faintly surprised, and maybe a bit cheered.
Bloody buggering hell, I hate to tell him this. "No, the Slayers we're gonna meet don't work for the Council, Red's on holiday trying to hire them. She and I worked this out." Not going to mention Buffy until someone else does; if Nancy-boy here runs off and tattles to the great pouf, at least he won't be able to get into this…thing we're developing and muck it all up. Angel would just confuse the situation. I've been keeping her phone calls and e-mails to myself; I'll share her once we get out of this Wolfram & Hart business.
Wes nods, and mutters something about getting Willow's help sooner, then falls silent as the car weaves through LA traffic, which is just as bad as it was earlier, despite night having come full on.
When we get to the hotel, I spot Red waiting on a couch across the lobby with a little brunette girl. Not that it's a surprise, but I feel the Slayer right away, and the feeling's different than being around Buffy, or even Faith, yet similar enough. Reminds me just what being in Buffy's presence feels like. I have the newbie pegged for Nibblet's age, but as we move closer to them I notice details that say older, more like 20's or early 30's.
Red looks up when we come to what'd be shouting distance in a place like this, and I can't not grin at her. After Buffy and Dawn, this was the one I worried about the most. We've had a strange relationship; just like with Buffy, I went from trying to kill her to living in the same house. I've missed her, I realize.
Red does a double blinker, and bolts suddenly off the couch headed straight for me. If I breathed, she'd have knocked the wind right out of me launching herself into my arms like that, but damn does it feel good. I gripe at her a bit to get off me, since Watcher's there and all.
When she lets go we're both a little watery, but I'm bloody well not mentioning it if she's not. She flashes a big smile and bounces up on her feet a bit. "Congratulations! On being corporeal, I mean."
I chuckle, her enthusiasm is catching. "You look bloody smashing, Red. Good to see you've stayed in one piece."
She pulls away to greet Wesley, and I'm left looking at the unnamed Slayer before me. She's tiny, shorter than Buffy, and a bit round. Her hair is short and curly and held back with little plastic bits, which is likely what gave me the teenager impression. She's eyeing me cautiously, and I try not to look threatening since we're gonna ask for her help.
The witch and the Watcher turn toward us. "Spike, Wes, I'd like you to meet Meredith Cunningham, Watcher and Vampire Slayer." She motions toward the other girl. "Merry, this is Wesley Wyndham-Price and William Spenser."
The bird shakes hands with Wes first, then turns to me. I'm working hard not to pay any mind to Red's use of my full human name, or the strange look Wes' giving me. "Ah, Willow, you do know he's a bloody vampire, right?" I'm a bit surprised at the accent since Red's pickin' her up here an’ all, but I'm sure I'll hear all about her later.
Willow and Wesley assure her that they do, in fact, know I'm a vampire. Wes even tells her a bit about ensouled vampires, much to my dismay. Hate that they think everyone needs to know that. She offers me her hand, and I'm pleased she's cautious but not terrified. "Pleasure to meet you."
She tilts her head at me, frowning a bit. I'm not really interested so I turn back to Willow. "Hey Red, when you said two guests for dinner, I hope you weren't countin' Research Boy here, I made reservations for five."
Willow rolls her eyes at me. "No, Spike, I wasn't counting Wesley, or did you miss the part where I left my message first." I smirk and she shakes her head in response. "And by the way, can I just say how weird it is that you made a dinner reservation, and just shook hands politely? This week has totally got to be the strangest week since I left the Hellmouth." I think Red must have just realized she'd gotten off topic, because she stops to think for a bit before she goes on. "Oh, yeah, so, I have another Slayer on the way. She should be here already, but she's on her way from LMU, and we're not hopeful on the traffic front."
"Yes, I've noticed that driving in Los Angeles is akin to driving in Katmandu." Wes nods as if he's agreeing with someone else's statement, and Willow smiles.
"Ah, this is the Wesley I remember. The super-dorky one." I smile at his discomfited look and open my mouth to join her snarking at Watcher Jr. when I get a new Slayery tingle at the back of my neck. This one's more like to the way Faith felt, more familiar than the feeling I get from little Merry. What the hell kind of name is Merry, anyway? It's a bloody adjective, not a name.
"Red, think your other Slayer just showed up." I turn towards the door, and almost fall flat on my face. The Powers-That-Buggerall seem to be playing a great bloody cosmic joke on me. She looks a helluva lot like Dru. It's bloody eerie, actually; she's even pale, and has the long curly hair.
The new Slayer smiles when she spots us and hurries over. As she comes closer the shock wears off a bit, and I force myself to notice the differences rather than the similarities between her and Drusilla, so the questions don't drive me mad.
When I've sorted myself a bit I turn toward the rest of the group to find Willow and Wesley's attention fixed on the approaching Slayer, and little Merry's eyes fixed on me. I arch an eyebrow at the wench, my best 'tell me what you're bloody looking at or kiss off' look on my face, and she grins. No answer, just a smug little smile I'm highly tempted to knock off her. Our stare-off is interrupted by the new Slayer, who screams Wes' name and grabs him.
When I turn, her face is buried in the crook of Wes' neck. Willow shoots me a confused look and I shrug. Fuck-all if I know what's going on; I though she'd be able to tell me.
When they pull apart, Watcher and Slayer are both sporting huge stupid grins. "Oh, my God, Wesley, I thought you were dead. I'm so happy to see you." Her smile is big enough to split her face, and it gets to me. I'm trying to keep blank, but an old friend, possibly an old flame, seems just the thing for him. P'raps if he's cheered up, he'll be more useful. Can't help it if that cheers me up, too.
"Jezebel? What in the name of God are you doing here? I'd thought you were at the Council." Wesley's face shifts from awe to pleasure as he looks at her. "You're alive! Oh, thank heavens." He pulls her close again, and I notice Red's smiling. Never knew he had it in him to bag such a beautiful bird. My estimation of the Watcher has grown by leaps and bounds.
When they finally pull apart, the Slayer's gaze redirects to Red and me, and her eyes narrow. Watcher keeps his arm wrapped around her as he introduces us. "Jezebel Neves, may I introduce Willow Rosenberg and, er, Spike."
She's polite to both of us, even she seems to be sizing me up a bit closely. Wonder what she's thinking when she looks at me. If I didn't know better, I'd say she knows exactly who and what I am. Must just be because she bears such a resemblance to my dark princess. Poor sweet, daft Dru; I wonder where she is now, if she's all right.
Once we're all introduced and friendly-like, it gets a bit awkward. I catch Red's eye, and nudge her a bit. "Ay, Red, we about ready to go, or did you have something else to do here? We have 'bout an hour to get to dinner."
She nods. "Yeah, I mean no, we're just meeting here, so now that we're all here, I guess we're ready to eat. Or, you know, to head to the restaurant, anyway. So I guess we should go, because if we just stand around here we're going to be late, and then we might miss our reservation, and then we'll be hungry."
The rambling and her slight uneasiness is reassuring, reminds me of Buffy and my Bit. Kinda hope Red never outgrows it; the twittering for no apparent reason is one of those things that made Sunnyhell feel like home, even if I'd never say it to another soul. Bloody hell, not only am I becoming a Nancy-boy, now I'm thinking in bleeding sappy songs. Someone stake me now.
"Alright, Red, take a breath; you're liable to lose your jaw it keeps flapping like that."
Red whacks me one. Just hauls off and smacks me in the arm, and she's not strong enough for it to hurt, but I jump because it's more Nibblet's style, not Red's. "Watch it, mister tough guy, or I'll start telling embarrassing Dawn stories." She's giving me that 'do what I say or die' look I've seen her give Harris a million times, and I'm surprised to find it works on me as well.
"Awright, Red, no need to get violent." Of course, I get a big evil smirk from the witch, who then turns to the assembled Slayer-Watcher group and ushers them out of the hotel.
"So, Jezzie, how do you know Wesley?" Merry's nosy, I can see that right off. She's been dying to ask that ever since those two recognized one another.
"We were in Watcher training togetha'." She responds, grinning back at Wes. I refrain from commenting that she seems far too happy 'bout that.
"Yes, we spent rather a lot of time together at one point. Jezebel was a frightfully impressive student." That look he's giving her implies she ain't bad at other things, either.
She rolls her eyes, and Merry snickers. "Please, Wes, my academic record was nowhere near good as yours. And, I'd been in unofficial training for years at that point, so I had a slight advantage."
"Yes, well, I wasn't raising a child and taking classes at the same time; I still have no earthly idea how you kept it all together, let alone as well as you did."
Watcher's laying it on a bit thick, I think, but she seems to enjoy it. There's a faint blush to her cheeks, and her eyes are bright and happy as he fauns all over her. Good show to him. I'll have to pump him for information later, there's a lot of history here.
"Oh, you have a baby?" Willow's looking all excited. Wonder if she's picked up baby fever somewhere.
"Well, she's not a baby anymore. Laurie's sixteen." Jezebel smiles benignly, oblivious to any reaction she might get from Red or I. I think we're both trying not to give one.
Now, I discarded most of the conventions of society soon’s I became a vampire. In my unlife, humans' ways of doing things changed a lot, and mostly in ways I approve of. The one little smidgen of Victorian morality I've held onto is an abhorrence for unwed motherhood. Might as well leave the little buggers out for a vampire snack, that's how little chance of a normal life they get.
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"Laurie's not actually hers." Why Merry feels the need to explain, I have no bloody clue, but seeing as I'm trapped in her back seat, I listen. "Mary Alice, another potential in New York who worked with Jezzie's Watcher, was Laurie's birth Mum. Mary Alice took off when the baby was 3, and her parents wouldn't take Laurie, so Jezzie raised her."
Willow nods. "Wow, I can't imagine going through high school with a baby. And then she went into Watcher school."
"Yeah, well Jezzie was home schooled, so by the time she went into Watcher Academy she was mostly done with university." Merry sighs. "I really hated that; when she just had to spar, or study demonology or something, and I had to do all of that plus my real schoolwork."
I laugh, I can't help it. To add to the irony of a Slayer who looks like a vampire, she's a genius Slayer who looks like an insane vampire. Red shoots me a look, and I try to calm down, but the idea is so bleeding priceless I can't. I can't have been the only one who's noticed; Red was staring at her earlier, too. Then again, Red might just have been looking at her tits, never really sure with her.
"Care to explain what's so bloody amusing?" Merry asks, and I crack up all over again.
Don't remember the last time I laughed so hard. And I have no idea how to explain this to anyone. I finally calm down enough to say, "The Powers That Be have a buggering nasty sense of humor."
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Timeline - Imagine that there was an entire day between when the gang left Angel's office at the beginning of the ep, and that first meeting in Spike's apartment. Hey, if I can, you can.