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How to Treat Your
Lover
by Tami
Chapter 37
Chapter 37-A: Step 2 – Estrangement (Part
4)
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Cordelia flipped through a magazine while Wesley read one of his ancient books and Gunn played with a Gameboy. That was how Fred found them when she came down the stairs. It was boring in her room and with no sign of Angel or Spike yet tonight, she decided to venture downstairs. She made her way down the stairs and over to the round settee. Cordelia jumped and let out a scream as Fred leaned closer to look at the magazine. Wesley jumped at the sound and looked at them, confused.
“Hey Fred,” Gunn said in greeting. He didn’t bother to look up from his game.
“Sorry!” she apologized. “Did I startle you guys?”
“No,” Wesley smiled genuinely.
“Only in the sense of shocking and jolting us,” Cordelia replied sardonically. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just taking a little stroll and . . .” Fred looked horrified at the magazine. “Why would girls want to look like that? I spent years in a cave starving. What’s their excuse?”
“Fashion,” Cordelia quipped.
A laugh bubbled up inside Fred. She stopped, sat down beside Cordelia and looked around the lobby. ‘So, everybody’s just reading and hanging out?”
“Angel’s upstairs,” Cordelia said casually. Fred always asked about Angel when he wasn’t around.
“Oh. He’s probably reading, too,” Fred said, stars twinkling in her eyes. There was a lovesick expression on her face. “He’s so deep, you know? Thoughtful. I’m guessing The Brothers Karamazov, Joyce, a little Goethe to round things out.”
“And here I was thinking he would be more interested in Spike’s anatomy,” Cordelia commented dryly.
The vampire in question appeared at the top of the stairs overlooking the lobby, a newspaper in his hands.
“Am I the only one who read this?” Angel asked excitedly.
“Read what?” Wesley inquired with a sense of disinterest.
“Charlton Heston! Double feature!” Angel nearly squealed as he galloped down the stairs. “At the Nu-Art. Soylent Green and The Omega Man!”
“Wow,” Gunn said blandly, his eyes still on his game.
“It’s two for one,” Angel said eagerly. “Did I mention: Charlton Heston? Who’s in?”
“What happened to Spike being attached at the hip?” Cordelia asked mockingly. “Aren’t you forcing him to go?”
“I’m not going to the soddin’ movies to watch something boring,” Spike replied as he swaggered down the stairs. He sat down on the couch near the wall.
Fred jumped up and raised her hand. “That sounds great!”
“Fred,” Angel said delighted. “Wesley?”
“I’m in the middle of translating Fassad’s Guide from the original Sumerian,” Wesley replied.
Gunn? Cordy?” Angel looked expectantly between them. They didn’t even look at him. He shrugged as he retrieved his coat. “It looks like it’s just you and me, Fred.” He shrugged his coat on. “Well, the worm certainly has turned.”
Fred giggled. “Y-y-yeah, the worm’s turning and . . .” She suddenly looked uncertain. “Am I the worm?”
“No,” he assured her. “You may not know this, Fred, but certain lovers, friends and co-workers have been known to accuse me of being the quiet, stay at home, sulky one.” Four sets of eyes stared at him. Spike scoffed at his Sire. “Some people just don’t know how to have fun anymore.”
“We can go back upstairs and I’ll show you a spot of fun,” Spike offered as he flipped through a Motor Trend magazine.
“Geez, Spike,” Cordelia cringed.
“Wot?”
**************************
Los Angeles, Elondria Hotel
A young man was in bed with two girls.
“Can we take a breather, stud?” the first girl asked.
“If you need one,” he smirked and turned to the other girl.
“Hey tiger, me too,” she said. “Just for a minute.”
The guy climbed out of bed with a sigh and poured himself a martini.
“Pace yourself, sweetheart,” the first girl teased.
He turned to admire his body in the full-length mirror. “Mm, it’s good to be young.” He walked back towards the bed. “So, ready for round four?” Suddenly, he hunched over in pain.
“You okay, baby?” the second girl asked, concerned.
“Oh,” he moaned. “It’s been fun.” Then, he started chanting, “Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota.”
A stream of red and white energy issued forth from his eyes and mouth. The stream stopped and the young man turned to look at the girls watching wide-eyed from the bed. They screamed as he began to steam and his body deflated into a puddle of skin on the ground.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Five Hours Later
Wesley sat at his desk working on translating his book with half an ear to Fred’s chatter about her trip to the movies with Angel.
“. . . And he opened every door for me and he paid for the tickets. And even bought a giant popcorn. And every few minutes he'd go like this,” she motioned like she was tipping a tub of popcorn towards someone and laughed. “Because he wanted me to know it was okay for me to have some.” She dropped into a chair, exhausting herself out by her own speech. “And he's so lonely because he's the last man on earth.”
Wesley glanced up from his book. “Angel?”
“No!” Fred said incredulously. “Charlton Heston. The Omega Man? Omega being the last letter of the Greek alphabet, so it’s a metaphor.” She jumped up excitedly. “And he walks on the street side, not the building side. It’s old fashioned and kind of chivalrous, you know?”
Wesley raised a brow. “We’re back to talking about Angel?”
“Right,” she agreed. “And even though he didn’t talk a lot, it was still okay. It was comfortable. It wasn’t that awkward kind of quiet. You know that awkward kind of quiet?”
There was a moment of awkward silence before Wesley said irreverently, “No. That’s never happened to me.”
Angel sat in the lobby reading the paper. Spike stood a few feet away, leaned against the reception desk going through a weapons mail order magazine with Gunn. Angel used the opportunity to surreptitiously stare at his mate’s backside over the edge of the newspaper without seeming like he was ogling the tightest ass he’d ever seen.
“You need to talk to Fred,” Cordelia demanded as she stalked towards him.
Angel looked guilty for a moment, thinking Cordelia had caught him watching Spike instead of reading the paper. Clearing his throat, he asked, “What about?”
“About the big date you guys just had!” Cordelia said irritated.
“Whoa! Date?” Angel raised a brow. “It was just a movie.”
“That’s what you need to tell her. She’s in there going on and on about what a super time you guys had!” she ranted.
Angel leaned over to get a view of Fred waving her hands animatedly and talking to an unimpressed Wesley. He shrugged and went back to the paper. “She’s just enthusiastic. Don’t read too much into it.”
Cordelia pushed his feet off the footstool and sat down. “She’s got the big puppy love. I mean, who wouldn’t? You’re handsome and brave and heroic, emotionally stunted, erratic, prone to turning evil and, let’s face it, a eunuch.”
Spike and Gunn huddled together over the magazine, snickering at Cordelia’s description.
“I think someone’s jealous,” Spike chuckled which made Gunn laugh even more.
“I’m not jealous!” Cordelia said indignantly.
“I’m not a eunuch! I fuck Spike all the time!” Angel insisted.
“Way too much information for my ears, man,” Gunn said.
“Angel, it’s a figure of speech,” Cordelia said.
“Find a better one!” Angel growled which caused Spike to convulse into a laughing fit. Angel wadded up a page of newsprint and threw it at his head.
“I just mean that sex is a no-no for you,” Cordelia explained. “Because of the whole ‘if you know perfect bliss, you’ll turn evil’ curse.” She eyed him speculatively. “Really no cure for that, huh?”
“Hey!” Angel and Spike yelled.
“Listen, all I’m trying to tell you is, this thing with Fred, it’s going to go bad unless it’s nipped in the bud,” she said.
“Leave her be, Cordy. Let her have some fun. Nothing wrong with a little crush,” Spike said.
“Have you seen Fatal Attraction?” Cordelia retorted.
“Okay, okay.” Angel held his hands up in surrender. “Maybe a short talk.” He raised the newspaper again, hiding behind it as he asked, “So how soon can you do that?”
Cordelia stood up and snatched the paper from Angel’s hands. “Nice try, buster. It’s got to come from you.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him up out of the chair and into Wesley’s office. “Angel has something to say.”
The vampire nervously looked from Fred, who smiled brilliantly at him, to Wesley. As a distraction, he held up the newspaper.
“Did anybody else see this?” he asked, laying the paper down in front of the former watcher. “Police found the body of a twenty-six year old Woodrow Raglan in a two-bedroom suite at the Elondria Hotel. An unnamed witness said it was as if his inside had just . . .”
“. . . Collapsed,” Wesley finished as he searched for something. “You know, there was something else like that last week.”
Cordelia raised a hand. “Um, may I just point out that no one is actually hiring us to look into this and that we should be doing more important things?”
“Aha!” Wesley held up a newspaper clipping. “Ten days ago, a body was found in another hotel room under similar conditions.”
“What do you think?” Angel inquired anxiously. “A spell, a curse . . . serial demon? I’ll take a demon.”
“Tough to say,” Wesley shrugged. “It’s worth a closer look.”
“I’ll say it then. Cordelia, open a case file. We have to get on this right away!” Angel handed a file folder to her with the newspaper clipping and walked past her out of the room.
“Angel!” she yelled, hurrying after him. “You can’t ignore this.”
“I’m not! That’s why I’m heading out now. Early bird catches the worm and all,” Angel called over his shoulder as he grabbed a weapon.
Cordelia took a printout and joined the rest of the team at the reception desk. Angel was checking out the weapons, judging which was best to kill a possessing demon. Spike and Gunn were still in the same spot as before. Fred sat between Wesley and Gunn. Wesley had collected news reports with similar modus operandi as the victim in the hotel.
“There was a third victim five weeks ago. From the looks of it, they were all young, healthy males. They all died in expensive hotel suites,” Wesley said.
“Can you imagine shelling out all that money for a snazzy suite and then . . . kerplop . . . you’re a big bag of mush bones?” Fred asked in general then thought about it. “I guess it wouldn’t be good wherever that happened.” Wesley just looked at her. “Oh, please continue.”
“Gunn, I was thinking you could interview the staff of the hotels where the guys died,” Wesley suggested. He looked at his watch. “I’m meeting a contact of mine from the coroner’s office in thirty minutes. See, what I can learn about these bodies.”
“They were all members of the same health club,” Cordelia announced. “The bodies, I mean – when they weren’t, you know, dead ones.”
Angel walked up behind her and looked over her shoulder at the printout. He pulled out his car keys. “Cordy and I’ll go check out the gym.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Wesley agreed.
Cordelia snatched the keys out of Angel’s hand and walked away. “I’ll drive.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Gunn asked.
“Everyone know what they’re doing?” Wesley asked.
“Haven’t a bloody clue, mate,” Spike quipped.
“Good,” Wesley nodded.
The team left, except from Fred who remained at the reception desk and Spike perusing a magazine. He focused on the reports of the dead men.
“I’ll just stay here and keep Spike company,” she said to the empty room, then laughed at herself. She went over and sat down at the computer. After a few minutes of pecking at the keyboard, she asked, “Spike? What’s Angel like?”
“Broody and overbearing,” Spike said casually, still reading the last report.
Fred looked skeptical at his bent head. “I never found him broody or overbearing. He’s big and strong, makes a girl feel safe and protected. You must feel much loved when he’s around.”
“Look luv, I am not a girl,” Spike said, stating the obvious. “I don’t need someone to protect me. We fight side by side, killing the big nasties together. That is what he needs, an equal.”
“I will never be that,” Fred said sadly, looking down at the desk. She fidgeted. “I mean you are heroes, helping the hopeless or whatever and I’m just a girl.”
Spike looked up at the tone in her voice. Putting the reports down, he walked around behind the desk and crouch down in front of her. “Hey, you’re heroic. You survived five years in a demon dimension, on your wits.” He reached out to stroke her hair. “You’re intelligent and beautiful and heroic yourself.”
A deep blush colored Fred’s face at the compliments. “I’m not beautiful. Cordy’s beautiful. She’s a princess and I’m nothing like that.”
“Here now, I don’t want to hear you say that, pet. You have good, strong qualities. You’re a survivor just like the rest of us. In my book, that’s worth more than just a pretty face.”
**************************
Los Angeles, Health Spa & Gym
“You can’t just keep ignoring Fred!” Cordelia said as she walked into the health spa with Angel. “You have to speak to her. You know, there is your business life and then there is your social life, and everybody knows that you keep those two things sepa . . .”
She trailed off as one of the buff male members walked by. “I’m going to go see if he knows anything.”
As Cordelia walked away, Angel spotted a health club attendant and walked over to him.
“Hi. I was just wondering if I could ask you a few questions. My name is Angel.”
The man shook his hand and tried to deal him a sales-pitch. “Angel. Good news, dude. We’re running our best offer ever! Okay, I can get you a six month trial membership right now for three hundred and fifty dollars.”
“No thanks. I’m looking into some guys that were members here,” Angel explained, pulling out a newspaper clipping and showed it to the attendant.
“Oh yeah,” the man nodded. “Woody. I heard he like . . . died.”
“He like . . . did. Along with others, all were members. So, I need to ask you, does the club condone steroid use?”
“No. No, no, no, a-a-absolutely not!” he insisted.
Angel nodded. “Then we should probably keep this between ourselves, don’t you think?” The attendant nodded. “I’ll just take a look at their records and I’ll get out of your hair.”
The attendant thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, yeah, okay.” He turned and led Angel back to the office. They passed Cordelia talking to two guys. The attendant handed Angel a folder labeled with Woody’s name.
“You know, I-I-I don’t see anything that connects the three of them,” the attendant said as he looked through another folder. “Except they were all in the evening Pilates class together.”
Angel looked up from his perusal. “Pilates, is that like Tae-Bo?”
The attendant laughed, “Yeah, if you’re living in 1999.”
The man showed Angel to a room. He walked in where a group of people were participating in an exercise class. Angel circled the room, stopping at the windows at the back of the room. Something caught his attention. A light reflected off a pair of circles in one of the windows of the building across the street. Even from a distance, Angel’s enhanced eyesight caught the sign in front of the adjacent building: Monserrat Retirement Community.
Cordelia was talking to four guys when Angel walked up behind her and leaned in close to her ear.
“There is a retirement home on the street behind us,” he whispered. “I’m going to check something out.”
“Bye!” she said agitated.
Angel glanced at the four men and started to leave, but turned back to Cordelia. “Maybe when you’re done with your work here, you can pick me up. Okay?”
When he left, she smiled apologetically to the four young men. “He’s just someone I work with. Anyway . . .”
**************************
Los Angeles, Monserrat Retirement Home
Angel looked up at the window of the retirement home where he last saw the reflection. He walked into the building, nodding to a few orderlies until he stopped at room 316. The nameplate read: Marcus Roscoe. He rapped his knuckles on the wood panel. An old man wearing big, round glasses slowly opened the door.
“Mr. Roscoe? My name is Angel,” Angel said as he handed him one of his business cards.
Marcus held up the card and squinted at it, reading, “Angel Investigations.”
“Would it be all right if I came inside and asked you a few questions?”
“Well, it’s ah, pretty late,” Marcus said uncertainly.
“It shouldn’t take long,” Angel assured him.
Marcus shrugged and walked back into his room, leaving the door open. Angel shifted uncomfortably but remained outside the door. Marcus looked back at him curiously and motioned him in.
“Come on if you’re coming.”
Angel carefully stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him. He looked around as he walked around, ending up at the window.
“Nice to have a view,” Angel commented. “I bet you, ah, spend a lot of time enjoying it.”
“Not that much . . .” Marcus started to say when Angel held up a pair of binoculars he found on the window sill. “Uh, well, I don’t see any harm in looking. That’s about all I can do anymore. Uh, what is it you want?”
“Your help,” Angel replied, replacing the binoculars and pulling out some news clippings. “I wonder if you’ve seen either of these men across the way in the gym.”
Marcus flipped through them before saying, “No. I don’t think so. I’m more of a girl watcher if you know what I’m saying? Jeez. They all died? How?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Angel said.
“You work for the police?” Marcus asked.
“I’m a private investigator. I work with a team.”
“Hmm, sounds nice,” Marcus said. “I was a salesman. I worked alone for fifty years.”
Angel gave an acknowledging noise when he spotted a shelf holding various pottery items. “Nothian herb jar?” He picked it up to examine it. “That’s a pretty exotic item. Did you, uh, deal in the occult?”
“Occult schmuccult,” Marcus scoffed. “I traveled a lot, picked up some trinkets.”
Angel put the jar down and glanced at the coffee table. He noticed some extreme sports magazines scattered along the surface. He went over, picked up a magazine and leafed through it.
“Do a lot of bungee jumping, Mr. Roscoe?”
“More than you might think, Mr. Angel.”
“It’s just Angel,” the vampire clarified.
Marcus removed his glasses and put them in the breast pocket of his shirt. Then, he took a couple of steps closer to Angel. “I’ll remember that.” Looking squarely at the man in front of him, Marcus started reciting an incantation. “Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota.”
Angel chuckled humorlessly. “You might want to think twice about trying to cast a sp . . .”
Suddenly, a red-and-white light flowed from Marcus into Angel while a blue-and-white light flowed from Angel to Marcus. When the light disappeared, [Angel] looked around and shrugged his shoulders, becoming accustomed to the new body. [Marcus] stared at him, his eyes squinted.
“You are me,” [Marcus] said, mystified.
[Angel] grabbed [Marcus] by the shoulders and head-butted him to knock him out for a while. He lowered the unconscious old man into a chair.
“That’s gonna smart later,” [Angel] said to himself.
A little while later, [Angel] walked out the front gate of the Moserrat Retirement Home and started to saunter down the sidewalk. He was brought up short with a feminine voice.
“Uh, hello!” Cordelia said irritated.
[Angel] turned and saw a gorgeous, dark haired woman in a convertible parked near the sidewalk. He chuckled as he walked over and leaned on the top of the windshield.
“He-llo,” [Angel] said in a flirting manner.
“So, what did you find at the old folks home?” Cordelia asked.
“Uh,” [Angel] shrugged. “Nothing, it didn’t pan out. How about you?”
“I got a two month free trial membership, and I made some new friends . . .” she said optimistically. When [Angel] just stared at her, she deflated. “All right, I got nothing.”
“Well, it’s pretty clear we’re barking up the wrong tree here, huh?”
Cordelia gave [Angel] an odd look. He was acting stranger than usual. “Yeah, well, get in. I’ll take you back to the hotel.”
Angel acted even weirder when he grinned at her as he got in the car and put his arm on the back of her seat. Angel and Spike were flirtatious to a fault, but they’ve been solidly together for nearly three years now. Not even a spatula could wiggle between them. So, why was [Angel] like this?
“All right! You and me are going back to the hotel, nice huh?” [Angel] said.
“Are you all right?” Cordelia asked.
“Honey, I’ve never been better,” [Angel] assured her.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
[Angel] followed Cordelia into the lobby of the Hyperion.
Spike was in Wesley’s office going through the reports of the dead bodies. Fred had gone back upstairs to her room an hour ago. Wesley had called in to leave a progress report, as well as Gunn. He got up with a clipping still in his hand and walked out of the office to see who came back.
“Nice!” [Angel] commented. When she walked around the reception desk to meet up with Spike, he asked, “Are you supposed to be back there?” He leaned on the desk and hit the bell a couple of times, whistling. “Slow night huh?”
“Yeah, Ange,” Spike said, looking up from the paper to address Cordy, “You didn’t happen to run into Wes or Gunn on the way back?”
“Nope, but maybe they had better luck than we did,” Cordelia said.
“Wes or Gunn,” [Angel] said to himself. He noticed the display of Angel Investigations business cards on the counter. There were some with Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, some with Charles Gunn, some with Cordelia Chase, Senior Associate and others with Spike, Freelance Specialist on them.
“They’re a great part of our investigating team,” [Angel] said quietly. “And they work with us in this old abandoned hotel.” He picked up one of Cordelia’s cards. “Cordelia . . .” She looked over at him and was rewarded with a smirk. “Have I ever told you that you are a very beautiful woman?”
Cordelia returned to sorting through papers on her desk looking for something to help Spike’s research. “Ha, ha, very funny. I know you never said anything that tacky or overt to Fred. But, you’re still going to have that talk, whether you want to or not.” She handed a page to Spike and walked around the counter to confront [Angel] about the Fred situation.
“Talk . . . with Fred,” [Angel] repeated, sounding lost.
“Yes! Just keep it simple,” Cordelia suggested. “One: you’re not like other men. Two: there is no room in the workplace for romance.”
“Romance . . . with Fred,” [Angel] repeated, sounding even more confused. “So, I’m a . . .” he looked down at his clothing style as if that could explain anything and apparently it did. “Obviously.”
Cordelia grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “Get some rest. See you tomorrow.”
Spike was still looking at his Sire as if he had grown two heads when it sank in that Cordelia was leaving. He put the papers down and rushed after her, catching her at the door.
“Hey, what the hell went on out there?” Spike hissed softly.
“What do you mean?”
“He was fine when you left. Now, he’s all . . .” Spike twirled his finger around his temple. “Did you guys run into something that knocked him for a loop?”
“He seems a little . . . spacey, but I thought that was just an Angel trait,” Cordelia looked back at [Angel] perusing the papers Spike had abandoned. She shrugged and walked out the door, saying, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Spike.”
Spike watched her leave then looked back at [Angel]. His Sire’s broad back was to him. The demon behind the desk looked like his Sire and smelled like his Sire, but something was off. The uneasiness in his blood made his skin itch. Not having to dust a Sire before, he couldn’t place the feeling.
“So, you gonna talk to Fred about this crush? ’Cause, you know how well you handle emotional things like that,” Spike asked.
“Huh?” [Angel] said, looking up. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’ll do it later.”
Spike walked back to the reception desk. There was still an unsettling feeling. The Sire he knew would have been on him the second Cordelia walked out. This version barely looked his way when the door closed.
“Angel, you sure you’re all right, mate?” Spike looked at him, his brow furrowed in concern.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? Just working on this case here,” [Angel] said, holding up the pages.
“Huh,” Spike said slowly. “Anything from your investigation of the premises helping, you know, out in the field and all that?”
“Yeah, went to that gym and thought I saw something at the place next door, but didn’t turn into anything useful,” [Angel] said.
Spike felt strange, similar to the feeling one gets when they bite into ice with sensitive teeth. He still felt mated, just not to the thing standing in front of him. The demon was there, still connected to him. But the personality was nonexistent. Spike sniffed the air. There was a soul detectible, but not that of his Angel.
**************************
Los Angeles, Monserrat Retirement Home
[Marcus] woke up in his chair with a headache. He groaned as he looked around. He tried to get up, but didn’t make it. After a few more tries, he put his hands on the arms of the chair and levered himself to his feet. He walked over to look in the mirror but only saw a blurry shape of a man. Putting on his glasses, [Marcus] watched his reflection become clearer. He opened his door and quietly snuck out of his room. He crept through the lobby to the receptionist desk. Then picked up the phone a dialed the number to the Hyperion.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Spike had excused himself and left the room. Only he didn’t go farther than the kitchen in lieu of getting a glass of blood.
[Angel] leaned back in Wesley’s chair behind the desk in the manager’s office, looking through papers. The phone rang, but he let the answering machine get it. Cordelia’s voice echoed through the lobby and then a beep.
“Cordelia? Are you there? Spike? Pick up!” an elderly man’s voice demanded.
[Angel] hurried to pick up the phone. “Hey Angel, how’s my head? Hope you got some ice on it. Sweet deal you’ve got going on here, pal. Love the hotel. And Cordelia – whoa! That’s how I spell w-o-m-a-n!”
“Where is she?” [Marcus] demanded angrily.
Spike quietly moved back to the doorway, staying just out of sight of the thing possessing his Sire and listened to the conversation.
“You don’t have to worry about anything except eating some nice soft foods and staying out of Ryan’s way,” [Angel] said mockingly.
Spike’s eyes widened when he guessed what had happened. His Angel went to the nursing home and some old warlock did a spell to switch places. That’s why the human bodies resembled a puddle of skin. This guy was working a mojo on the patrons of the gym across the street and using their bodies up to gain some extra time on his life. And now he had Angel’s body and life. Angel’s eternal existence!
There was still a few hours of darkness left. Spike decided to make the most of it and go out to see if he could get to Angel and find out exactly what happened. He cautiously moved toward the back entrance to the hotel and slipped out unnoticed.
**************************
Los Angeles, Monserrat Retirement Home
“Ryan?” [Marcus] sounded confused as an orderly took the phone from him.
“You wouldn’t think that we just talked about this!” Ryan said irritably as he hung up the phone. “There go your phone privileges for the rest of the month.”
Ryan put his hand on [Marcus’s] shoulder and walked him back to his room.
“You know you’re not supposed to be out of your room at this hour,” Ryan admonished.
“I was stretching my legs,” [Marcus] lied.
Ryan put a hand over his name tag and asked, “Who am I?”
“You’re Ryan.”
He chuckled. “At least you’re not having an episode. My advice, Marcus: if you start thinking you’re a twenty-four-year-old stud or a famous skateboarder, keep it to yourself. Unless you wanna wake up in isolation restraints again, copy?”
[Marcus] pointed to himself. “I know who I am.”
“Then let’s get you back to beddy-bye.”
A few feet away, Spike picked the lock and snuck into the home through a back door. He quietly made his way down the hall and around the corner just in time to see Ryan walking [Marcus] back to his room. Staying at a safe distance, he followed the two men. He watched [Marcus] go into his room and Ryan leave.
Spike waited until the coast was clear before he knocked on the door he’d see the old man pass through. It was labeled Marcus Roscoe. A few seconds later, the door opened a crack and the elderly man peeked out.
“Marcus Roscoe?” Spike inquired.
Suddenly, the door opened wider and Spike found himself with [Marcus] plastered against his body.
“Angel, you might wanna get off me!” Spike said. Arms tightened around him with the strength of a human and not that of his Sire. “You’re humping my leg here. Get off me.”
“Sorry,” [Marcus] said gruffly, releasing the blonde vampire and stepping back.
“Gonna invite me in, pet or do you want to talk out here?” Spike raised an inquisitive brow.
[Marcus] grabbed his hand, tugged him inside the room and shut the door. Spike watched with interest as the elderly body Angel currently inhabited made its way to a chair very slowly. He knew his Sire wanted to be human and all, but was this really what he wanted to become when he finally fulfilled that prophecy?
Watching [Marcus] slowly sit in the chair, Spike asked, “Angel, what the hell happened to you?”
“The real Marcus was the one using all those men. He would watch them with the binoculars over there,” [Marcus] gestured towards the window, “and then do some kind of transference spell.”
“So, how does the human life suit you? Still want to be one?” Spike teased. “Bet you’re missing the great aspects of being a vampire now, hmm?”
“Spike, stop it. You made your point.”
[Marcus] cringed at the thought of what the warlock could be doing with his body. When they transferred, he was still Angel in a different body. That meant . . . his demon was still in his own body and a warlock resided in it. What if he did something to trigger Angelus’ panic snap?
What if the real Marcus wasn’t able to control Angelus? If the demon got out and was in control of his body, he could destroy the team. There was no doubt about it. Angelus would do it in a minute just for the pleasure of seeing what would hurt Angel the most. Even if he hadn’t extracted a promise from Angelus to take care of Spike, the blonde vampire could handle himself. What about the others?
“Think of the damage that he could do in my body. What he could do to the team? We have to get me back in my own body, Spike.”
“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s already doing damage. It’s like watching a hound dog going after every woman in sight,” Spike said.
[Marcus’s] eyes widened. “Cordelia and Fred! They aren’t safe. We have to fix this.”
“I think Fred is in the most danger. Cordelia would just hit him over the head with one of Wesley’s books.” Spike chuckled at that image in his head. “I need to get back to protect Fred and see what I can do to get you back.”
“You’re right,” [Marcus] agreed. “There’s no telling what he will do to Fred if he thinks she has a crush on me.”
“Yeah, Cordelia’s getting pushy about that talk you’re supposed to have with Fred.” Spike held his hand up. “Leave him to me. If you get your body back with a few bruises then he hurt Fred.”
“That I can deal with, just as long as it hurt him more at the time,” [Marcus] said. Then, he looked at Spike intently, or what he hoped was intent. “In fact, Spike, hurt him.”
Spike nodded and left as quietly as he arrived.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Cordelia walked into Wesley’s office to find [Angel] asleep, slumped over the top of the desk with papers littering the whole room.
“Angel!” Cordelia exclaimed at the sight of the disaster.
[Angel’s] head jerked up at the sound. The paper he slept on was still stuck to his face.
“What happened?” Cordelia asked looking around the room shocked.
[Angel] pulled the paper off his face and took a quick glance around. “Uh . . . hey, doll. I, ah,” He stumbled over his words as he put some papers in an open file. “I was working on the case. I must have dozed off.”
“You were too tired to go up to your room?” Cordelia asked with a raised brow.
My room! Right! Which I have upstairs. Well, you know me: always giving a hundred percent.” He got to his feet and looked through the mess. “Now, what did I do with the damn case file . . .”
Cordelia looked at him strangely. “You gave it to me yesterday.”
“Ha! Must be getting old,” [Angel] gave her a lopsided grin. He reached for the folder but Cordelia dodged his hand and put it behind her back.
“Not until you have that talk with Fred,” she insisted.
Just then, Wesley walked in carrying an old English teapot. “You know there is something about brewed tea that you simply cannot replicate with a bag.” He stopped short when he saw the mess. “What happened here?”
[Angel] started shuffling papers together. “I was just looking for something. Uh, I’ll clean it up!”
“Don’t avoid the talk,” Cordelia said as she walked out of the room.
“I know. I know,” [Angel] said to himself as he walked around the desk, picking up papers and looking over the mess. “Hey. How’re you doing?”
“All right,” Wesley drawled. “Well . . . – you?”
[Angel] pulled up a chair on the other side of Wesley’s desk and sat down. “So, we gotta talk. The thing is: I’ve got nothing against you personally. It’s just . . .”
Wesley looked up to stare at [Angel] who shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The vampire avoided eye contact with him. “O-ho, this is going to be harder than I-I thought. I just don’t know how to spit this out.”
Wesley walked around the desk and perched on its edge facing [Angel]. “Angel, whatever it is, you know I’m here for you.” He stretched a hand towards him, but the vampire hurriedly scooted his chair back.
“Yeah, that may be the problem,” [Angel] chuckled uncomfortably. “I mean, whatever we . . . had – whatever we . . . did. I just think that we should keep that behind us and start from scratch. You know, two men working side by side. But, none of that . . . funny stuff.”
Wesley frowned as he stood up. Something didn’t sound right about this conversation. Before, he could analyze it, [Angel] offered his hand.
“Shake on that?”
Wesley stared at him for a moment. “I guess.” He took [Angel’s] hand and received a hearty shake.
“Hey, all right. Give me a hug.” With that, [Angel] pulled a flabbergasted Wesley into a big hug with half the strength [Angel] would normally use.
“Wesley, food’s here,” Cordelia called from the lobby.
“Okay,” Wesley answered, still bound in the hug.
[Angel] jerked back from him, holding him at arms length. “Wesley?”
“Yes?” Wesley said, still surprised by the hug.
“Do you know where Fred is?”
“Um, up in her room I’d expect,” Wesley replied.
“Her room, right,” [Angel] nodded. Then, he was distracted by the smell of food. “Somebody say something about food? I could eat a horse.” He turned and walked out of the office.
Gunn stood in front of the counter with a carton of cups and fast food.
“Breakfast burritos all around,” he announced.
[Angel] grabbed one of the burritos and stuck some money into the breast pocket of Gunn’s jacket. “Thanks, bro. Keep the change on that.”
“Okay,” Gunn replied, clueless.
Wesley had pulled Cordelia aside and was talking with her. “Where is Spike? Angel is a bit huggy-feely for my liking. Totally out of context . . . and really, not his brooding self.”
“Oh you think?” Cordelia replied sardonically. Then, she thought about it for a moment. “Oh no . . . he’s not Angelus, again?”
Wesley shook his head. “Oh, no, he’s just emotional. Angelus would be playing mind games and undermining us by now. This is something different.”
They broke a part, and not two seconds later, Gunn pulled her aside. “Where’s Spike? Angel’s been acting really weird.” He reached into his coat pocket for the money [Angel] had given him. “He tipped me with a c-note.”
“So, both of you have notice something off about him?” Cordelia whispered back. “I don’t like this.”
“Did you find anything, Gunn?” Wesley asked as a distraction.
[Angel] sat at his little folding desk munching on the burrito as he looked over at Gunn and Wesley.
“Yeah, I did. All these guys ran up huge service bills, mostly alcohol. Well, at least they went out partying. Oh, and I got copies of their telephone bills too,” Gunn reported.
“Hey, isn’t that illegal?” [Angel] asked with his mouth full. “I mean, don’t these guys deserve a little privacy?”
They all turned to stare at [Angel]. The vampire always committed shady acts to get the job done.
“What?” [Angel] asked confused as to why they were staring at him.
“Why are you eating?” Cordelia asked.
“I’m hungry,” [Angel] replied simply.
“Looks like they called the same number,” Wesley said, looking over the sheet of phone numbers.
“Yeah, saw that too,” Gunn said. He pulled out a paper and handed it to Wesley. “Check it out: First Class Escorts, La Brea and Sixth.”
That peaked [Angel’s] interest. He got up and moved over to the counter beside Wesley.
“Escorts? Oh, you mean hookers?” Cordelia surmised.
Gunn took the paper out of Wesley’s hand. “I should probably interview them right away while the trail is hot.”
Wesley snatched the paper back. “Ah, I’ll take this one. You interview the hotel staff. It’s only fair if we divvy it up.”
Gunn took the paper back. “Yeah, but I figured it out.”
Cordelia grabbed the paper out of Gunn’s hand. “I’ll interview the hookers. Are there any men who aren’t just dogs?”
“Not very many, I’m afraid,” [Angel] replied. He leaned in close to Wesley. “You know a woman is more than a piece of meat. I’m sorry, that’s just how I feel.”
Just then, Wesley’s beeper went off and he checked the display. “Ah, that’s my contact at the coroner. I can see one of the bodies. I should go.”
“Gunn can go with you,” Cordelia offered.
“That wasn’t the kind of body I had in mind to see,” Gunn cringed. Cordelia just looked at him. He held up his hands in surrender. “We’re going, we’re going.”
[Angel] watched as they left and Cordelia followed them. “Hey, you know what? That’s a great idea. I’ll just stay here, hold the fort, and keep an eye on the evidence.” He crammed a big bite of burrito in his mouth.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, a couple of hours later
[Angel] was in Wesley’s office, shredding the newspaper clippings of the mysterious dead men. With that done, he sat back with a sigh, put his feet up on the desk and picked up a martini glass to take a sip.
“What are you doing?” a shy feminine voice asked.
[Angel] saw Fred peeking around the door and grinned. “Well, hey there, sweetheart. Where have you been hiding?”
Fred flustered at the endearment. “You know, up in my room. Everybody keeps saying ‘Fred, you should get out more’ and well . . .”
“Fred, mm,” [Angel] mused. He took a sip from his glass then stood up and walked around the desk to stand in front of her. “Have I ever told you that you are a very beautiful woman?”
“Um, no?” Fred said uneasily.
“Do you like olives?” [Angel] asked as he pulled the toothpick with the olive out of his drink and offered it to her. She ate it out of his hand, smiling.
Just then, the phone rang. [Angel] put his drink down and excused himself to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Don’t go all night stalker on me,” Lilah said without as much as a greeting. “But, I’ve just done you a favor.”
[Angel] didn’t know who the woman was on the phone, but she sounded like she could go a few rounds with him. This Angel person surrounded himself with beautiful women. This Angel Investigations gig was looking like a good prospect. The woman on the phone sounded like she was as beautiful as the women Angel worked with. That decided, he poured on the charm.
“And what can I do for you?”
“We both agree that business with Cordelia was just business, right?” Lilah asked.
“Sure.” [Angel] had no clue what she was talking about, but played along anyway.
“I have all the certifications for your hotel that you need, earthquake safety, statement of asbestos level compliance, all of it. How about I bring them by and drop them off?”
[Angel] was silent, thinking of the best way to address this new matter. Apparently, it was too long a wait for the woman on the other end.
“I’m not playing you here,” Lilah said. “It’s not about you. It’s about Gavin. He thinks he’s so smart.” When he still didn’t say anything, she pointedly added, “You’re welcome.”
That got his attention. Thinking fast, he knew he had two balls in his court: Fred, who turned out to be a girl, and the woman on the phone, trying to seduce him with her voice. “I’m sorry. Thanks. I’ll tell you what, let’s meet somewhere for the exchange.”
“O-okay,” Lilah agreed.
[Angel] hung up and smiled at Fred. “Why don’t you go on upstairs and put on something pretty and we’ll go out on the town?”
“Really?” Fred said excitedly.
[Angel] tipped her on the nose with the toothpick, making her giggle. “And that’s just for starters.”
“What about Spike? Is he going with us?” Fred asked.
“What about him? I’m sure he’ll understand the need for you to get out and enjoy yourself,” [Angel] replied.
“Okay, I’ll just – I’ll go and – okay,” Fred stammered and ran out of the office.
[Angel] shook his head. “Hoo!” He sat back down at the desk and whistled as he continued to shred paper.
When Fred came back down the stairs, [Angel] was ready to take her out. He suggested they go for a walk since it was a nice night. Fifteen minutes into the walk, [Angel] started touching her intimately: a caress of a finger on her cheek, brushing her hair back, putting an arm around her shoulders.
It wasn’t until he tried to feel her up with the suggestion that they find another hotel, that Fred started freaking out. As far as she knew, Angel and Spike were devoted to each other. They were mated and as much as she adored them both, she honestly couldn’t see Angel cheating on Spike.
“Angel, no, as much as I want this and have for a long time, I can’t do this,” Fred said.
“Why not?” asked [Angel].
“Because, there’s Spike to consider,” Fred said.
“What about him? Why does he have to come between us? I know you want me Fred. I can smell it from here,” [Angel] said lewdly.
Fred looked at him strangely as if she didn’t recognize him anymore. She scoffed, shrugged away from him and ran back to the hotel.
[Angel] watched her leave, yelling after her, “That’s okay. I’ve already got a date set up.”
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