[Reviews - 11]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 1321 times

- Text Size +




Nothing was said for the rest of the elevator ride. Wesley stepped onto Angel’s floor, and Buffy and Spike followed a step behind.

“Something on your mind?” Spike asked, gently shaking their joined hands. “Slayer, I can see steam coming from your ears.”

“I’m just wondering why a fancy law firm like this has a greenhouse of people-eating, poisonous, and oozy plants. Not only is it bizarre, it’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“That sounds like a question best-suited for Angel’s right-hand man.”

“Angel hasn’t told you about Wolfram and Hart?” Wesley asked, looking over his shoulder.

“She’s asking now,” Spike said. “Come on, take the bait. We all know the Watcher in you can’t resist the lure of spouting off exposition.”

“Well, this isn’t your typical law firm,” Wesley began. He turned and stopped walking just outside of Angel’s penthouse. “We have many dealings here besides our legal work.”

“I read all of Carl’s brochure and it didn’t mention anything about harvesting evil plants in the firm’s CV. I didn’t know Angel was into gardening.”

“How about Interment Acquisitions? You know that’s just a fancy term for grave robbing? Found that out the hard way.”

Wesley cringed at Spike’s remark, but it disappeared quickly. “The plants are used in spells and as weapons. Cultivating new species is one of a wide range of activities sponsored by our Special Projects Division, along with hiring assassins, developing cutting-edge supernatural warfare, and so forth. Angel is doing his best to rehabilitate certain departments, but this is a firm, run by demons, that represents despicable clients from all walks of life. The agenda here is…colorful at best.”

“He really means it’s just one step above downright evil.”

“And you chose to stay at this place?” Buffy asked, side-eying Spike.

“Wolfram and Hart has existed since before the dawn of human history,” Wesley continued. “If we weren’t managing it, someone else would be, and I’d rather Angel be in charge, at least of the LA branch. We do good work here. Fred’s research laborites alone have made staggering progress. And we protect as many innocent lives as possible with the firm’s unlimited resources. Understandably, it’s led to the Senior Partners questioning Angel’s leadership. Therefore we don’t need his absence agitating them further.”

“I guess not,” Buffy said, frowning. “I’ve promised Mrs. Pratt that we’re safe. Are we safe here? I have very important people here, people that I love, and more are on their way. If we’re sitting on some kinda demon-law firm landmine… Cancel the wedding, because I’m checking out of this place so fast.”

“Pet, there’s no immediate threat,” Spike assured her. “If we were in any real danger, I’d know about it.” He waited a beat before saying, “Right, Wesley?”

“Angel’s meeting was rescheduled, if he isn’t sobered up by this afternoon…we’ll talk.”

“Oh, so there’s no pressure on us or anything.”

“All of it will turn out fine,” Spike said, squeezing her hand. “We’ve gone up against much nastier baddies than a heartbroken Angel with a hangover. And I’m sure Wesley has a backup plan if all else fails.”

“You mean other than us running for our lives?” Wesley asked.

“Spike.”

“Now that was a joke,” Wesley continued with a barely noticeable grin. “Mostly, anyway. You do know when our employees are fired, the Shareholders literally have them set on fire? Poor job performance is simply not tolerated.”

“Spike!” Buffy gasped, bugging out her eyes.

“What do you want me to do, babe? Smack him one? He isn’t joshing this time. I know it happened.”

“I just—Wesley, stay here,” she said, pointing next to Angel’s door. “I can only handle one cheeky British guy at a time right now.”

“Suit yourself, but if you need anything--.”

“We’ll know where to find you, especially since the Slayer’s put you in timeout,” Spike snorted. With his free hand, he tried to open Angel’s door. “Do we know where he keeps a spare key?”

“I believe--.”

Before Wesley could finish, Spike kicked the door in.

“I was about to say there’s an extra key on the top of the doorframe!”

“Well, isn’t that a case of shoddy security?” Spike shrugged, unaffected by the annoyed tone of Wesley’s voice. “Maybe we should change that once the door’s replaced, yeah?”

“After you, Slayer,” he said, holding the door open for Buffy. “Let’s get this over with.”
***

Angel’s penthouse was nearly identical to Spike’s, only Angel’s living space was a mess. Books, paperwork and empty bottles covered the tabletops along with most of the floor.

“Looks like a tornado hit this place,” Buffy said, scanning the dark room. “God, what’s that smell?”

“It’s booze, love. Surely you remember that distinct aroma from our night of kitten poker, where you got completely hammered?”

“Ick, don’t remind me. I’ve had two hangovers in my life, and that one went on for days. I was so mad at you.”

“Me? Who am I to refuse a lady when she’s itching to drown out her sorrows?”

“Do you think that’s what Angel’s trying to do here?”

“Yeah, too bad the booze will only magnify his woe-is-me state,” Spike answered, narrowing his eyes. He stayed close and kept their fingers securely entwined. “I should know; I tried to drink away Drusilla numerous times.”

“How’d you get over her? Wasn’t she the love of your undead life?”

“You have to ask? I moved on. I became fixated on you. She means nothing more than squat to me now. If I were in Angel’s shoes, I’d--.”

“What would you do?”

Angel emerged from the dark bedroom with a bottle hanging from his fingers. He was dressed for bed, but he looked exhausted, as if he’d been awake all night.

“Bloody hell, man. Put a shirt on, will you? We don’t need you prancing about like some drunken Chippendale.”

“It’s nothing Buffy hasn’t seen before,” Angel replied, leaning against the doorframe lazily. He leered at her and took a long drink, draining his bottle. “Don’t keep us waiting, William. What would you do if the girl of your dreams was snatched up by the biggest pain in your ass?”

“You mean like when you stole Dru from me for the umpteenth time back in Sunnyhell? Sure, I drank my share, but I kept my wits about me. I teamed up with the Slayer and we sent you to a miserable hell dimension. Remember that, peaches?”

“Didn’t you abandon Buffy in the end though? Hey, maybe I should send you to a different dimension?” Angel suggested cheerfully. “One word to the Senior Partners and that’ll take care of William the Bloody once and for all.”

“No,” Buffy said, breaking her silence. “If you touch him, or send him anywhere…”

She trailed off, too irritated to finish. “You will not do anything to Spike. I’m sorry you’re upset. Angel, I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He ignored her, focusing only on Spike. “You know what she told me in Sunnydale—right after she kissed me? Hold on, she reeked of you then, were you two dating at the time? Oh, but you never dated, you just fucked.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Buffy stomped forward, but Spike held her back.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we did share a bed those last few nights. We did nothing but sleep. You see, the Slayer and me, we’re more than sex, but you can’t get that through your thick skull. If I couldn’t ever make love to her again, I wouldn’t bail on her. Unlike you, I’d stay with her, because I love her--.”

“I love her too!” Angel roared. He threw the bottle at the wall behind them. It wasn’t close enough to hit anyone, but Buffy and Spike ducked anyway. “She said she wasn’t done baking yet! She said I had to wait—but lover boy doesn’t have to? I wait patiently while he’s eating cooking dough? Now you’re talking marriage? To him? Damn it, Buffy, does this mean you’re cookies?”

“Oh, you’re actually talking to me?”

“It isn’t fair, Buffy.”

“And neither are your tantrums. Knock it off and sit down. Now,” she said when he just started at her.

“Buffy--.”

“On the couch,” she demanded, her voice icy. “Spike, you might as well join him.”

“What? No—but why? What’d I do?”

“Nothing. You don’t have to sit next to him, just stand over there. Please?”

Spike reluctantly released her hand. On his way to the other side of room, he flipped on the lights and smiled when Angel hissed and covered his eyes. “The Slayer wants us to pay attention. Listen up.”

“When Angel gave me that amulet, he asked me questions that I wasn’t able to answer. He wanted to know if you were my boyfriend, and—well, it didn’t sound right. So I told him you were in my heart,” Buffy said, looking at Spike.

“I wasn’t sure if any of us had futures, so I was completely unsure of what was happening with our relationship. I wasn’t ready to deal with our Dawson’s Creek-style love triangle that night either. With the First and Caleb, and the world about to end… So I said I was cookie dough,” she said with a shrug. “I was baking: learning, finding myself. I thought it would be a long, drawn out process, but being with Spike, fighting by his side, and loosing him? And then missing him, mourning him…getting him back.”

She took a deep breath and finished softly, “I’m not unsure anymore. I was miserable without him. I’m still learning about myself, but Spike—he makes me better. And he tells me that I have the same effect on him. I can’t ignore that. I know I said I needed to bake…” She trailed off with a quiet laugh and rolled her eyes. “I can’t wait. What I feel for Spike is real and intense and—and good. If you can’t accept him or our marriage…”

“Buffy. Sweet, calm down.”

Suddenly Spike was at her side. She wanted to tell him she was completely calm, but she realized her face was wet once he slid the pad of his thumb under her eye.

“You alright? You don’t have to continue if you think we’re not getting through. Fuck him, pet, especially if he’s making you cry.”

“It isn’t him, these are tears of the happy kind,” she said with an embarrassed grin. “I just got carried away. Where was I anyway?”

“I think you were about to give him an ultimatum.”

Buffy turned back to Angel. All the anger seemed to have drained from his body. “I’ve been working so hard,” he said. “Pursuing prophecies, soul searching, constantly fighting—who is it all for now?”

“How about doing it for yourself, mate?”

“Oh, that’s fucking rich, coming from you.”

“What other choice do you have?” Spike continued. “Unless you get off on setting yourself up for failure and disappointment? Let’s say you continue your good deeds, all in her name. She’ll probably continue to love you for it, but only as a friend. Guess you could wait around until we break up, but I’ll tell you now, I’m not letting her go without one hell of a fight. We aren’t just playing house, we’re in this for keeps.”

“We aren’t looking for your permission,” Buffy added. “But I need to know where we go from here. Can we be friends? If it’s too painful—say the word, and we’ll get out of your hair. But I’m hoping I won’t have to loose you. You mean so much to me, but if I have to choose, I’m choosing Spike.”

The room became eerily quiet. Angel just stared ahead.

“Angel?” She took a step toward the couch. “Are you still with us?”

“Watch it, he’s known to have hellish mood swings when he’s sloshed. Give him an inch, he’ll start throwing shit again.”

“No, he won’t.” She caught Angel’s eye and joined him on the couch. “He’s too smart to do something like that. I just need know what he’s thinking.”

“He’s thinking that you deserve someone better than him,” Angel answered finally.

“Angel--.”

“It’s insane, but if he truly makes you happy… Damn it, Spike, you’re a lucky bastard. I don’t know how you managed to pull this off.”

“He never gave up. He was patient and loyal and--.”

“Okay, I get it: Spike’s great. Spike’s super. He’s so freaking fantastic, my head hurts just thinking about it.”

Buffy watched, slightly amused as Angel held his head and rubbed his temples. “I detect no lies on the Spike front, but I doubt he made your head ache. I mean, really? Don’t you think you drank a little too much last night?”

“And this morning,” Spike added.

“No,” Angel grumbled. “I’ll play nice for you, Buffy, but I’ll always blame him.”

“For what?”

“Everything.” Spike and Angel answered at the same time. Where Spike was smirking, Angel had a grimace on his face.

“At least you two can agree on something,” Buffy remarked with a laugh.

“He loves pestering me.”

“That, I do. I live for it. Well, that and you, babe,” Spike added after a beat.

“You’re sure about this guy?” Angel’s eyes met Buffy’s. “He’s the one? You realize he’s an ass, right?”

She nodded, a smile pulling at her lips. “He isn’t the only one to luck out here. He’s been sure about me when I wasn’t sure about myself. I almost made a huge mistake by not really accepting his proposal—thank God, I woke up. I love him.”

Angel looked between them with a frown. “I can’t change your mind?”

“Nope, but you can continue paying the tab on our big day though. Your money’s being put to good use already by the way, on napkin rings, party favors and those little bite-sized corndogs.”

“Spike,” Buffy scolded. “Angel, we’ll pay you back--.”

“No.” He leaned forward and before Buffy knew what was happening, he pulled her in for a tight hug.

“Oh, hey,” she said, patting his bare shoulder. “You might want to hold off on the PDA, mister.”

“If I can’t change your groom, Buffy, let me perfect the rest of your wedding. Consider it a gift.”

“How heartwarming, a present and an insult all rolled up into one. Thanks, ever so.” Spike said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now if you’ll kindly release my bride-to-be, you can gift us further by pulling yourself together. Stop drinking, clean up, and do your bloody job.”

“Wesley’s preparing for another apocalypse if you miss this meeting,” Buffy said once Angel returned to his corner of the couch. “Why is it so important? Do you always jump through hoops for these Shareholder-Partner guys? Wesley filled me in somewhat, but he didn’t say what this meeting’s all about.”

“That’s because he doesn’t know. The Senior Partners are big on confidentiality. They’re interested in keeping their secrets, and finding out yours. They have spies—telepaths planted throughout this building.”

“Will you be reaching the point anytime soon?” Spike asked, growing impatient. “Buffy already feels uneasy here. Why egg it on? What’ll you say next, that they’ve got our rooms bugged? Don’t be a fear-mongering idiot.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed then he said, “They know about Anne. Why else do you think I wanted Willow here with that spell? Anne was a vampire. She died. Somehow she’s managed to come back from the dead, as a human, with no recollection of dying--.”

“So you’ve pointed out before. And spies told the bigwigs this, and about my mum…? You sure you aren’t interested in using the spell yourself in one last pathetic attempt to steal Buffy away? Next you’ll say you drank yourself silly to stall your meeting with the bosses. Because you can’t just be the jealous sod you are, right? You can’t own up to it. There has to be a courageous ulterior motive.”

Buffy let Spike’s words sink in. She turned to Angel and asked, “Is he right? Would you do that? Angel, it’s okay to be hurt, but--.”

“No!” Angel snapped, jerking away from her sympathetic touch. He stood up too fast; he lost his balance and fell back against the couch with a curse. “Spike doesn’t know everything! He’s so—he’s completely out of line! Believe what you want, but he’s wrong!”

“Told you he’s a mean drunk. Even his golden-boy soul can’t change that.” Reaching for Buffy’s arm, Spike nudged her toward the door. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this, love.”

She nodded, startled by Angel’s outburst. “We’ll come back when he’s sober.”

Before they could leave the penthouse, she heard Angel say, “Don’t bother. Just plan your stupid wedding.”

Swiftly, she turned on her heels to scowl toward the couch. “I think that’s exactly what we’ll do, because we’re done here. You’re not yourself. You’re upset. You’re hurting. I don’t know if you’re drunk or if you’re having a hangover—I don’t even care, but I understand. We’re not trying to flaunt our relationship, I just thought… For the first time, in a long time, I know what I want and I’m happy. I’m getting married.”

“I’m not stopping you. I’m giving you money. Go, marry the guy.”

“I don’t want your money--.”

“But we’ll take it,” Spike interrupted only to flinch when Buffy glared at him too. “Well, it isn’t even his dosh, pet! He’s only a puppet for Evil, Incorporated! If we don’t spend their money, they’ll just spend it on more evil!”

Buffy took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. “Just tell me: Angel, are you going to your damn meeting?”

“I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Good, then our job is done here.”

Grabbing onto Spike, Buffy stomped out of the penthouse.

“He’s all yours,” she said to Wesley as they continued down the hallway.

“How’d it go?”

“I’m not talking to him again until he’s sober.”
***





You must login (register) to review.