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How to Treat Your
Lover
by Tami
Chapter 24
Chapter 24-A: Step 2 – Understanding (Part
7)
Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion
Spike was in hell. Angel left last night and went back to L.A. Spike sighed. Not only did he go back to L.A., he we went back to Darla. Not technically, but Darla was in the same city as Angel. She could very easily drive his Sire over the bend instead of around it.
He couldn’t forget the incredible sex. He was William the Bloody after all. His Sire taught him the pleasures of the flesh and being mated to Angel heightened his senses dramatically: touch, emotion, thought. Now that he was gone, Spike felt bereft. He was melancholy when he awoke in his bed alone after two days of Angel’s constant presence.
Spike wondered what Angel was doing now, if he was in bed or if Cordelia had gotten him up to work on mundane projects until dusk. He wondered why she had called to get Angel back to L.A. so quick. What was Darla up to as a human that she was making so much trouble? Not that it surprised him; his grandsire never did anything quietly. Where he was the loud obnoxious one, she strove to have the most impact.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite
Angel sat alone in his room sketching. There were pictures of Darla from his dreams and from the past. There were sketches of William and Spike. He hated leaving his boy in Sunnydale. As he drove away, he tried not to think of each mile that took him further from his mate. The hotel felt empty without him. Angel remembered the past summer when Spike stayed with him willingly. The blonde had no real complaints and never voiced his want to go back to Sunnydale. As far as Angel knew, Spike was content to be here with him . . . until Wolfram & Hart started using Darla to get to him. Then, his boy couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
Aside from the rifts over Darla and Buffy, he’d spent a couple of relaxing days and nights with Spike. Angel’s lips quirked up. They were very relaxing, very erotic days and nights. All he remembered of it was being buried inside Spike for hours and feeling satisfied. It wasn’t perfect happiness. He didn’t need that, nor did he care for it anymore. Spike grounded him. Those two days was time away from the hell that Wolfram & Hart was making of his life.
Angel put his elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his head on his hand as he continued to draw. The two people that were foremost in his mind since returning to L.A. were Spike and Darla. He doubted the contention between he and his childe was over concerning her. He had only managed to placate the blonde vampire for a couple of days. Angel was sure that knowing what he was returning to didn’t set well with Spike his mate or Spike his errant childe.
Wesley hesitantly stepped up to the open door behind Angel and looked into the room.
Angel didn’t bother to look up from the sketch when he asked, “What is it, Wesley?”
“It?” Wesley stammered. “There is no it.” Then, his voice faltered. “It’s nothing, really, just popping around to see if everything’s all right.”
“Fine,” Angel said distractedly as he continued to sketch.
“Oh, good,” Wesley said. “You’re certain?”
“Uh-huh,” Angel replied. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Wesley replied, but he didn’t move.
Angel could smell and feel him in the doorway. He stopped drawing but didn’t look up. “You’re still here.”
Wesley hesitantly stepped into the room. “Apparently. So, you’re sure there is nothing on your mind? That is to say nothing you’d like to . . . perhaps,” he looked over Angel’s shoulder to see a sketch of Darla, “share?”
Angel looked up at him for a moment. “No.”
Wesley looked around the room. “Really.”
Angel looked up and then looked down to see what Wesley was looking at. The floor of the room was littered with papers, some crumpled up, others not, drawings that were discarded for one flaw or another.
**************************
Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion
Spike sat on the couch, his bare feet propped up on the wooden side of the coffee table with a glass of blood in one hand, balanced on his knee and his cell phone in the other. His thumb danced over the keypad as he decided whether to call Angel or not. His Sire said he would call when he got to L.A., but it’s been twelve hours since he left. Spike wondered if it would make him seem overeager if he called now.
Personally, he wasn’t the type that cared one way or the other about Angel but now, was mated to him. Where in the Vampire Mating Instruction Manual did it say he had to worry about his Sire? Spike punched in Angel’s number and listened to it ring, hoping his old Sire knew how to answer the damn thing.
“Hello?”
Spike closed his eyes and his head dropped back on the backrest when he heard Angel’s voice, but he answered, “Hey, ponce, you said you’d call when you got back. What took you so long?”
“I missed you, too, Spike,” Angel drawled.
“What are you doing down there?” Spike asked.
“I came home and felt artistic, I’ve been drawing.”
“Anything in particular?”
“You,” Angel smirked into the receiver.
“Missed me so much you had to draw me?” Spike teased.
“Missed me so much you had to call me?” Angel countered.
“Knowing how you are with a cell phone, I didn’t think you’d answer,” Spike chuckled.
“Are you making fun of me because I hate cell phones? It isn’t my fault Cordy gave me a complicated model with voice mail that I can never access,” Angel complained.
“It’s not complicated. If I can figure it out,” Spike scoffed, “You should be able to.”
“Did you just call me to mock my dexterity with a cell phone or was there a point to this?” Angel asked disconcerted.
“Does there have to be reason why I – the Slayers of Slayers – would call my overbearing, unappreciative, Neanderthal of a Sire?” Spike asked.
“I can tell already that you’re about due for another punishment,” Angel commented.
“What would the reason be for that?” Spike asked innocently.
“Consider our history and choose an event,” Angel replied jadedly.
“Hey, if you have no problem using a cell phone, then why didn’t you call me when you got home?” Spike asked.
“I had things to deal with when I got back. The second I walked in the door, Cordy hit me with a case,” Angel said cryptically.
“Was it the Queen Bitch?”
“Who, Cordy?” Angel asked sincerely.
“No! Though now that you mention that, Cordy may stake you for insinuating that she’s a bitch,” Spike said.
“But, she is, or she says she is,” Angel said petulantly.
“You never learned finesse with women did you, Sire?” Spike asked teasingly. “I meant your former ball and chain.”
“Buffy?”
Spike chuckled. “Your ex-tumble?”
“What ex-tumble?” Angel asked.
“Darla, you irritating ape,” Spike yelled into the phone.
“Oh,” Angel commented. “What about her?”
Spike growled in frustration. “Nothing much other than she fucked with your mind, played with your dreams and nearly ripped us apart. Can’t think of a thing, how about you?”
“I’ll deal with her,” Angel said solemnly.
“Yeah, I saw how you did that. I can slip into your mind remember? How are you going to deal with her, Sire, a severe tongue lashing down her throat like last time?” Spike asked petulantly.
“That was a mistake. She seems to be still causing problems, so I will have to find out what Wolfram & Hart’s plans are in using her, won’t I?” Angel shot back.
“Yeah, while I’m stuck up here baby sitting the Slayer and trying not to kill her, ’cause Daddy said so, you’re down there making it with Darla,” Spike concluded heatedly.
“Spike! I’m not doing anything down here, aside from trying to keep my own sanity while Wolfram & Hart plays with my life. You don’t think I’d rather be up there with you or have you down here? I’m about as tied to you as any demon can be and I’m sorry that I let Darla kiss me, but I never touched her otherwise. Until I can figure out what the hell is going on between her and Lindsey McDonald, there’s not much I can do. I can’t stake her, she’s human again . . . somehow,” Angel ranted.
“You let her kiss you?” Spike asked.
“NO! I didn’t let her do anything! Spike, you gotta cut me a break here. I’m in the middle of some fucking evil law firm bent on making my life hell,” Angel growled.
“So, according to you I have no right to be upset that my Sire-slash-lover-slash-mate is in a different city getting macked on by his formerly-dusted-mystically-regenerated-into-a-human Sire?” Spike asked petulantly.
Not that Spike could see it, but Angel’s head dropped back against the chair and he groaned. “Yes, you have a right to be upset. But, my hands are tied about what I can do about it.”
“She’s bad news Angel. Blonde women have always been your downfall,” Spike pointed out.
“What about blonde boys?” Angel teased.
“Well, I don’t know about other blonde boys you associate with, but I’m good for you,” Spike said understatedly.
“Is that right?” Angel chuckled.
“Of course, ponce. I’ve gotten you laid so much in the last six months you don’t have time to brood and angst over your life,” Spike explained.
“Why does everyone think that sex turns me evil?” Angel complained.
“Maybe, ’cause the last time you did have sex, you turned evil,” Spike pointed out.
“That was an unusual circumstance and only happened once,” Angel said defensively.
“I can see how fucking a Slayer would be an unusual circumstance, and it only happened once ’cause you never tried it with anyone else after that,” Spike commented dryly.
“I’ve fucked you enough times,” Angel shot back.
“Yeah, but with our history and Angelus in your head, I doubt you have room for perfect happiness. You’re too bloody guilt-ridden,” Spike said.
“Spike, I swear the next time I see you, you’re going to get it,” Angel threatened.
“I hope so,” Spike teased.
“That’s not what I – never mind. I have to go, Cordy’s waving her arms like a traffic director,” Angel sighed.
“Fine, just leave me up here with hostiles!” Spike said, playing his hand at the art of guilt tripping.
“Spike,” Angel whined.
“Okay, bye,” Spike said resignedly.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Angel said just before he heard a beep signaling that Spike had ended the call.
“Damn it,” Angel said to himself.
He punched the button to turn his phone off and threw it at the bed where it landed on the mattress. Angel knew Spike wouldn’t forgive him so easily. Darla was back in their lives again . . . standing between them again. Back in the old days, she had done everything to drive a wedge between Angelus and his childe so that she could have Angelus all to herself.
Now that she was back, it seemed her very presence in the same universe was disrupting the fragile balance between Angel and Spike. It didn’t matter that she was human this time. She still had enough influence, as it were, to upset Spike.
Angel tried to think of how Spike would feel and concluded that he was afraid of losing his Sire to the competition. Could Angel blame him? First, Darla took Angelus attention away from William. Then, it was Drusilla on occasion. Back in Sunnydale, Drusilla and Buffy occupied Angel’s and Angelus’ time.
The boy’s upset with you, what did you expect? Angelus asked.
I know, but I can’t do anything about it, Angel answered.
Sure you can, just kill her and torture those lawyers and then get Spike back down here, Angelus suggested helpfully.
I can’t do that, she’s human, Angel said.
Hasn’t stopped you before, why should it now? Angelus asked.
I help people now, Angel growled.
But, it’s not a person, it’s Darla, Angelus pointed out.
Why are you on board with this? I’d thought you’d want to keep her around, Angel said.
Yeah, well, that was before we mated to Spike and when he’s upset and not freely giving of the sex even after our two-day session, then it puts a kink in my plans, Angelus replied.
A hundred years and it’s still all about you. You’re such an narcissist, Angel scoffed.
That’s the way of the world, Angelus said.
Your world maybe, the real world is radically different, Angel countered.
The real world can kiss my vampire ass, Angelus growled.
**************************
Angel sat behind his desk in what used to be the manager’s office. Wesley and Cordelia were sitting in front of his desk, while Gunn propped himself up with the doorframe behind them. After a half hour of arguing with his demon over the merits of the world vs. alternate-reality-according-to-Angelus, Angel had come downstairs to distract himself with work. Only work was ‘distraction-related’. The way Angelus was talking, if Angel didn’t clear up this mess with Darla, Spike was going to mutiny.
Cordelia raised her hand. “Am I the only one that thinks that this is just a really bad idea?”
Angel just stared at her. “We can’t just sit here waiting for Wolfram and Hart to make a move. It’s time we go ahead in the game.”
Cordelia looked skeptically at Angel. “This won’t involve kidnapping again, will it?”
Angel’s brows furrowed and he sat up in his chair. “All we are going to do is find her.”
“And this would be the same woman you didn’t notice was in your bedroom every night for like three weeks straight?” Cordelia scoffed.
Angel cleared his throat, perturbed. “That was different.”
Cordelia nodded jadedly. “Different in the sitting right on top of you sense, yeah.”
“Cordelia has a point,” Wesley agreed.
“Finally!” Cordelia said, vindicated.
“The last time Darla emerged she wanted to be found. Now she is out there among six million other people,” Wesley reasoned.
Cordelia nodded. “She could be sitting on top of anybody.”
Angel slumped in his chair and watched them all and their unwillingness to participate. “Come on guys. We are a detective agency. We investigate things. That’s what we’re good at.”
“That’s what we suck at,” Cordelia corrected him. “Let’s face it: unless there’s a website called www.Oh-by-the-way-we-have-Darla-stashed-here.com, we’re pretty much out of luck.”
“It’s not going to be easy,” Wesley added.
Cordelia bolted up when an idea hit her. “Before, he said he could smell her. How about we cruise around with the top down and you take big whiffs?” When no one agreed with her plan, she shrugged. “Well, we’ll wait until after the sun sets obviously.”
“It’s a big law firm. They’ve got to have housing for the out-of-towers, right?” Gunn asked, gaining their attention.
“Out-of-towners? It’s not as if they flew her in from Miami. She was raised from the very depths of hell by an ancient and dangerous ritual,” Wesley explained, slightly patronizing.
“Yeah and . . .? They still gotta to put her up, don’t they? That’s an expense,” Gunn’s shoulders dropped in defeat when everyone stared at him as if he were speaking an unknown language. “You’re telling me these lawyers haven’t figured out a way to write that off?”
Cordelia and Wesley looked at each other before she hopped up and walked out the door. “I’m going to start digging into Wolfram and Hart’s real estate acquisitions.”
Wesley followed her as he suggested, “Not just primary holdings, but subsidiary as well.”
Angel sat up again with new interest and called out, “She’d want something with a view,” then, he said more to himself, “Darla always loved something with a view.”
**************************
Sunnydale Memorial Hospital
Spike entered the building through the sewers and a linen closet. Of all the sewer access tunnels, he had to end up in the most useless closet. He opened the door and stepped out into a mostly empty hallway. There were a couple of doctors at the end of the hall, but no one noticed him.
Spike rounded the corner and walked up to the reception desk. On the other side were two more doctors in a deep discussion while looking through a file. He leaned against the desk and watched them. Dr. Isaacs and a colleague were discussing the small anomaly they found on Joyce Summers’ x-ray.
“So, what do you recommend for something that is barely visible even on the x-ray?” the colleague asked.
Dr. Isaacs held the x-ray up to the light and examined it. “I wouldn’t call that quarter-sized dark spot barely visible, Dr. Thomas. I’ll suggest surgery to Mrs. Summers.”
Spike perked up at that. There was something wrong with Joyce? From his vantage point, it looked like a head x-ray. He tapped on the countertop to get the receptionist’s attention.
“Yes, may I help you, Sir?” the girl asked.
“What can you tell me of Joyce Summers and her condition,” Spike requested.
“Are you family, sir?”
“Yeah, she’s like a mum to me,” Spike answered with his most flirtatious smile.
The girl smiled brilliantly as he gave her a lascivious appraisal with his eyes. “In layman’s terms, Dr. Isaacs and Dr. Thomas found a shadow in her brain.”
“That’s too bad. Is she all right?” Spike asked genuinely concerned.
“She’s fine . . . aside from that. They’re saying she may have a small biopsy,” the woman offered.
“Can you tell me which room she’s in? I’d like to visit and check up on her,” Spike said.
“Sure,” the girl replied. She looked through the patient room assignments on the computer and said, “She’s in room 215.”
“Thanks, luv,” Spike said with a nod to her in thanks and walked off.
Spike liked Joyce. You had to respect a woman who wasn’t afraid to hit you with a fire ax. Joyce reminded him of his own mother. She listened to him when he came back after Drusilla left him for a Chaos Demon. He shuddered at that. He still couldn’t believe his dark princess left him for slime and antlers.
As he walked through the hospital to her assigned room, he passed a gift shop. Spike wasn’t one to spend his own money. Sometimes he forgot he had any, with the stealing what you want that goes with being a vampire. He bought a bouquet of lilies and inscribed the card from him and Angel. The ponce would never know and he wasn’t the sentimental type to call Angel up and tell him that he owed half on a bouquet of “Get Well” flowers. It would ruin his Big Bad image. When he got to the lobby near Joyce’s room, he saw Buffy and that tin soldier of hers, Riley Finn, hugging each other.
“How’s she doing?” Riley asked her.
Buffy turned to look at the door of the examination room. “Well, she just had a CAT scan. I was about to go in and find out. Will you . . . sit with Dawn while I talk to Mom? She's in the waiting room.”
Riley’s expression became grim. “Yeah, yeah, you got it.”
As Riley turned to go to the waiting room, Buffy sighed, turned away and ran into Spike holding the flowers that seemed out of place with the black duster and apparel.
“Spike! What are you doing here?” Buffy asked warily.
“I came to get more blood. Angel and I pretty much holed up in the mansion and I’m a little low.” He looked around the hallway as if appraising the hospital and then back at her. “I heard your mum was here and wanted to stop in and see her.”
“I don’t want you anywhere near my mother,” Buffy said ominously.
Spike’s expression saddened. “Your mum and I got along real well Slayer.”
“She hit you with a fire ax,” Buffy pointed out.
“Yeah,” he drawled, “But, after that, we were chums. She makes the best hot chocolate with little marshmallows.”
“Spike, what are you doing here?” Riley asked as he stepped up behind Buffy.
Spike rolled his eyes. “We’ve already been over that part, Cardboard. I’m here to see Joyce.”
“She doesn’t care for your kind,” Riley said irately.
“From what I’ve seen, she isn’t too fond of you either. At least she likes me; she and I have had nice little chats. What’s the most she done with you?” Spike sneered.
Riley puffed his chest out and was about to lunge for him when Buffy’s hand stopped him. Spike just stared at him, unmoved.
“What are you going to do to me, soldier boy?” Spike provoked.
The vampire and the former Initiative soldier stood toe-to-toe, silently squaring off in the hallway with Buffy off to the side wondering what was going to happen and who she would have to beat down first. A tick in Spike’s jaw started working overtime as he and Riley glared daggers at each other.
“I heard Angel kicked your ass all over the alley last year when you two met,” Spike said with a smirk. “That must have been quite a story to tell your buddies back in the barracks. You got beat down by a souled vampire. What’s it feel like to know she let a demon have her first? Did she tell you that she fucked the soul right out of him?”
“That’s it!” Buffy yelled, grabbing Spike by the lapel of his duster and pushing him back. “Get out of here Spike before I stake you.”
“I’d like to see you try, Slayer,” Spike antagonized her. Then, it dawned on him and he smirked. “Oh, wait. You never told white bread here that you and Angel got it on? That’s a great start to a relationship, Slayer: lying by omission.”
“Go, Spike,” Buffy demanded.
Spike thrust the bouquet at her and said ominously, “I can smell you, Slayer. Last night is still fresh in my mind. We’re not through. Now, that Angel’s not here to buffer, I’ll have myself a real good day.”
Spike nodded to her and walked away. Riley stood behind her watching the vampire leave.
“What did he mean by that? What were you two doing last night?” Riley asked.
“I was doing research,” Buffy said, leaving the first question unanswered.
She turned and walked into the darkened examination room with the bouquet still in hand. Inside, Joyce and Dr. Isaacs were in front of a set of highlighted CAT scan images. When she entered, they turned in her direction.
“May I come in?” Buffy asked.
“Of course,” Joyce smiled and motioned her over. “Where’s Dawn?”
“Uh, she’s with Riley. They’re watching TV in the waiting room.”
Dr. Isaacs nodded to them. “Excuse me; I’m just going to check on the status of the OR.”
When he left, Buffy looked at her mother, concerned. “The OR.?”
“Dr. Isaacs says I’m . . . . lucky there’s one available on such short notice. Some people wait for days, sometimes, weeks,” Joyce said reassuringly.
“What did they find?” Buffy asked softly.
Joyce smiled sadly. “A shadow. I’ve got a shadow.” She looked at the highlighted x-rays. “Somewhere . . . over there . . . he showed it to me, but . . . they have to do a biopsy to find out exactly what it is.”
Buffy expression turn distressed and she hugged her mom. “Doctor says it’s too early to be concerned.”
Buffy swallowed, trying to compose herself. “Right.” She pulled away to look at her mom. “No concern.”
“Just a shadow,” Joyce said smiling bravely.
**************************
Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, Blood Bank
After his run-in with Buffy and her super-boy, Spike stalked to the wing that housed the blood bank. Angel was in L.A. dealing with his bitch of a former Sire and Spike was stuck here baby-sitting the Slayer who refused to cooperate and wouldn’t let him see her mother. He liked Joyce and that bloody bitch wouldn’t let him visit her. Spike thought about it a moment and shrugged. He walked up to the desk and drummed his fingers on the countertop.
“Hey Spike,” greeted a red haired man as he walked out from behind some shelves.
“Hey, Cleave, I need a refill,” Spike said.
“Okay how much this time?”
“Whatever you can spare, mate. Angel decided to visit this past weekend,” Spike said by way of explanation.
“Oh, how’s he doing?” Jack Cleaver asked as he collected the blood bags. He propped his magnifying glasses on his nose as he scanned the labels.
“Saving puppies and lollypops,” Spike said sardonically.
“I heard he moved to L.A. Seems like a lost cause to fight the good fight in a place like Tinsel Town,” Jack commented.
“You know Angel, bloody ponce likes a challenge,” Spike said.
Jack came back to the counter laden with blood bags. “Ah, here you go. Do you think this will last you awhile?”
Spike glanced at the dozen bags of blood. “How long will this keep? I’m a vampire not a horse.”
“You have a fridge right?” Jack asked teasingly with a raised brow.
“Of course I got a soddin’ fridge,” Spike scoffed.
“Then, they’ll keep; just don’t wait two months to drink them. I’m told outdated blood isn’t all that healthy for vampires,” Jack shrugged and started packing the bags up in a small cooler.
“Thanks mate,” Spike said, taking the cooler.
He left the blood bank and exited the hospital the same way he entered, through a sewer tunnel.
**************************
Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, Waiting Room
Dawn was curled up asleep on an armchair. Riley draped his jacket over her and crouched beside her. Across the room, Buffy sat and watched them, noticing the caring her boyfriend was to her sister. Riley stood up and went over to sit next to her. She put her head on his shoulder and he kissed the top of her head. Suddenly, Buffy saw the doctor approaching. She stood up and walked over to him, leaving Riley behind.
“Everything went fine,” Dr. Isaacs assured her. “They’re moving her into recovery now.”
“Do we have the results yet?” Buffy asked nervously.
“Let’s, um, sit down over here for a minute,” Dr. Isaacs suggested as he directed pointed to a chair.
“No!” Buffy said aloud. When she realized she had nearly yelled, she said more quietly. “Excuse me, no, I . . . I don’t mean to be rude, I just, I’ve been sitting for hours, I don’t want to sit. I just . . . tell me, please.”
Dr. Isaacs nodded and went on to explain his findings. “Your mother has . . . the term is low-grade glioma. It’s a brain tumor. The clinical name is oligodendrogliomas. It’s in the left hemisphere of the cerebrum. In your mother’s case, the tumor seems to have started there. In other words, it hasn’t spread from another part of the body . . .”
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Angel, Cordelia and Wesley were researching their latest problem: Darla. Having spent 150 years with her as a vampire, Angel was coming to realize he knew everything and nothing about her. He knew she was a prostitute from Colonial Virginia as far as her human years, but outside of that, after all the years he was with her, he knew very little of her life. Only what she wanted him to know. At this point, he knew more about Spike’s life as William the shy poet.
Angel knew Angelus was in it for the pain, but only now did it dawn on him how little time he took to get to know his family. What they were really like, not just what they could reflect on his own greatness. He felt Angelus wince as that thought revealed a chink in his character. He closed the book. “He must have given it to her. I didn’t even know her real name.” He turned to Wesley. “Any luck?”
“Not yet, no,” Wesley said grimly. “I’m working on it.”
Angel rubbed his eyes. Wesley and Cordelia had been making him work as a way to get his mind off Darla, which was laughable when the case they were poring over concerned Darla. He’d been at this ever since he got off the phone with Spike. The last few times he and Spike parted ways had been arguing over one blonde or the other.
Can I blame him?
You left him in the company of a Slayer to deal with a human version of Darla, Angelus reminded him.
You and he both know I didn’t want to leave him. Do you want him nabbed by Wolfram & Hart in the middle of this mess with Darla and have them experiment on him in God knows how many ways? Believe me he’s safer dealing with Buffy.
Is he? What’s to stop him from following through with his threat to go after her? Hmm? You’re preoccupied with your other family member, Angelus pointed out.
They can take care of themselves. Spike isn’t helpless and neither is Buffy, Angel said irritated.
So then, how are you going to find Darla? Angelus asked.
“Something will come up,” Angel answered aloud.
“Yes. That’s my fear,” Wesley said apprehensively. “Angel, you must admit that your record when it comes to Darla has been . . . spotty at best.”
“I killed her Wesley. I staked her and she came back,” Angel stated flatly. “They brought her back and now I need to know why. I mean why like this: why human?”
Reasonable as always, Wesley said, “Perhaps human was the only way Wolfram & Hart could bring her back and hope to control her with any degree of success.” He looked at his boss concerned. “Angel, I don’t supposed it occurred to you that this might be why they brought her back? You have all your attention focused on finding this one woman.”
“So you think Wolfram and Hart went to all this trouble just to keep me distracted? Take me out of the game?” Angel inquired as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the desk.
“It is possible, and if that’s the case . . .” Wesley said, leaving it open.
“It's working,” Angel finished as he rolled his eyes and looked at Wesley.
**************************
Sunnydale, Hell’s Gathering
Spike sat at the end of the bar nursing a bottle of blood, still thinking of Angel. Maybe he was going about this Darla thing the wrong way? Though, he’d barely trusted her when she was demon and now that she was human? He trusted her less. Little, blonde, human girls were his Sire’s weakness. He was baby-sitting one of them right now. Well, not currently, but it was implied.
Spike snorted and took a swig. He had a right to be angry. He was stuck here in Sunnyhell looking after a Slayer instead of killing her while his Sire – whom he was mated to – was in Los Angeles ‘dealing with’ his human former-Sire. He was a century old, and Angel was twice that. When did their lives go from maiming and killing across continents to ‘baby sitting’ humans?
Spike pulled out of his reverie and looked around the room. It had gotten more crowded since he arrived an hour ago. He gazed down the bar and his expression hardened when he saw the Slayer’s superhuman boyfriend, Riley Finn, sitting at the other end talking to a brunette female vampire.
Spike smirked at the irony. Captain Cardboard spent last year preaching hatred toward demons and now he was sitting in a demon bar chatting up a female vampire trull. Well, wasn’t life grand? This wasn’t the type of bar the Slayer usually frequented to get her information. Spike doubted Buffy knew what her boy-toy was up to while her back was turned.
He watched as the girl sat down next to Riley. The tin soldier’s reaction confused him a little. All this time, the commando said how evil, soulless demons – and some with souls – should be killed. Yet, here he was talking to some bottom-of-the-barrel vampire that made Drusilla look sane. Spike kept his eye on the couple as he swigged the blood. His eyebrows rose when the girl asked if Riley wanted to come with her and the soldier looked like he was considering the idea. Spike scoffed at the hypocritical bastard.
Spike watched them talk. When the girl got up to leave, Riley stood and followed her out of the bar. Bloody git is gonna get himself killed. Spike thought about going outside and saving Riley, but then he shrugged, turned his barstool around and finished his blood.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Angel stood in front of the desk and read an address for a motel on the highway.
“Based on this,” he held up the notebook, “we think that the search is over? Is the property owned by Wolfram & Hart?”
“Annapolis Olive Oil Import/Export, a corporate client of Wolfram & Hart,” Wesley read off his own notes.
Angel grimaced. “That’s pretty slim.”
“It has a view,” Cordelia pointed out.
“That’s not enough,” Angel countered.
“And Berber carpeting,” Cordelia added.
“No, we need to narrow it down further, keep looking.”
As Angel walked out of the office, Cordelia called out, “And my sister is living in Unit 319!”
“You don’t have a sister,” Angel yelled back.
“Sure I do! My older, way older – like 400 years older – blonde sister Darla, no last name. I’ve been desperately trying to find her because Mom and Dad are in a coma.”
Angel looked as her skeptically as he walked back into the room.
“Sue, the property manager was very helpful.” Cordelia smiled at Wesley. “She even cried.”
Angel rushed over to the desk, ripped the page with the address out of the notebook, and started towards the door. “Let’s go.”
He was headed out of the room again when Wesley blocked his path. “Perhaps it would be best if you let me contact Gunn and he and I can check this out.” The watcher tried to take the paper with the address, but Angel wouldn’t let go. “We could do the reconnaissance, give you a full report and we can all decide how to proceed . . . as a team,” Wesley explained as he tried to take the paper again.
“That’s probably a good idea,” Cordelia chimed in. “Since it's 1 o'clock in the afternoon and that address is in Sun Valley.”
Angel immediately let go of the paper and Wesley walked out. “Right,” he chuckled, “the sun.”
“Actually I was thinking Valley. I mean why go there if you don't have to,” Cordelia corrected him.
**************************
Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion
Spike stayed in the bar for another hour before going home. Yes, he furnished it and decorated it, but after two days with Angel, it was just a big, drafty mansion. It was lonely. He poured himself a glass of blood and popped it in the microwave.
As he watched the glass rotate, he thought about the last time he drank human blood. Tara MacLay, when he proved she wasn’t a demon. He’d gloated about it to Angelus, but Angel never brought it up, which could only mean that Angelus didn’t bother to tell him or he was saving it for later when he knew it would trouble Angel the most.
When the microwave dinged, he took the glass out and went to the living room. Settling on the couch, he grabbed the remote control and flipped through the channels. It was about the only thing he used his own money for. If he let Angel pay for cable, he’d be watching some documentary network all the time. A demon has to have variety or his post-life would get boring.
Murder, She Wrote on A&E, some John Wayne war movie on AMC, noir on Bravo, CNN was depressing; Spike had killed enough people in his life that he didn’t need to see it played out all over a 24 hour news channel. Discovery had something about Gorillas, which made him chuckle, considering one of them kind of resembled Angel, if Angel were big and hairy. ESPN had NASCAR; Emeril Lagasse on the Food Network; the other side of the coin on Fox News, Hallmark Channel was showing reruns of MASH; HGTV had Gardening By the Yard; History Channel had something on World War II. Spike passed that channel since he lived through it. Lifetime had some movie about a battered wife. Sci-Fi was showing reruns of Stargate SG-1, TLC had some woodworking show, TNT had Terminator with limited commercial interruptions, USA had golf, WGN had a commercial, WTBS had Audie Murphy movies, HBO had Roxanne, Cinemax had some erotica movie, and Showtime had a Sylvester Stallone marathon.
God, it was boring when you weren’t allowed to go out and terrorize your own neighborhood.
Spike flipped over to the local NBC affiliate and found a soap opera called Passions. He watched a few minutes of it and became engrossed in Timmy the talking doll. It reminded him of Drusilla with Miss Edith. He shrugged, tossed the remote aside and watched it. |
