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How to Treat Your
Lover
by Tami
Chapter 44
Chapter 44: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 11)
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Angel was going through the business files again looking for expenditures and other monetary information. He had been flittering between the file cabinet and manager’s desk. It was starting to drive Cordelia crazy. He still wouldn’t say why Spike left before she came out of her coma. All she knew was that something came up and he went to take care of it.
“Angel . . .”
Angel raised a hand to stop her as he continued to calculate numbers in his head.
“Angel, what are you doing?” Cordelia asked.
“Business taxes,” Angel mumbled.
“One, you’ve never had to do taxes in your life. Two, tax season isn’t for another three or four months,” Cordelia said.
Angel glanced up at her and went back to his figures. “Never too soon to start is it?” Something wasn’t coming out right in his calculations. He got up with papers in hand and walked out the door. She followed him like an insistent gnat. “Wesley, is this right?”
Wesley glanced up from his many research books to see Angel standing over him with receipts in his hand. This was the first time he had ever seen the dark vampire express a keen interest in the monetary end of the business.
“You’re acting very strange. First, Spike left unexpectedly without an explanation as to why or where he went and now you have this unnatural interest in the accounting side of our business?”
“Weren’t you the one that badgered me about charging people to save them?”
“Yes, but --”
“We’re moments away,” Fred said from her spot at the reception desk.
Angel looked over her shoulder at the new website she had designed for Angel Investigations. Gesturing at the ‘No Case Too Small’ under the slogan ‘We Help the Helpless’ part, he said, “Ah, can you make that bigger? Bold . . . but, you know, tasteful.”
Fred hummed thoughtfully. “Tasteful. Sure.”
Ever since Spike left, Angel was driving everyone crazy with his maniacal involvement in every aspect of the business. He had rearranged the weapons cabinet three times: first, alphabetical, then by the year they were invented, and lastly by how much damage the weapon could inflict. He had read nearly all of the research books and even bought a few more books from Amazon.com, to brush up on his knowledge of demons, he said. Then, he started on the yearly taxes and was now telling Fred how to do her job.
“Angel, you’ve been like this for two weeks. I’m glad you want to pitch in and help with the everyday things around here. But, where is Spike? Did you two have a falling out? What happened?”
“Spike’s gone. He left while you were in a coma. He seems to have better things to do than be here and help us,” Angel replied.
“I know that. Why did he leave? There had to be something,” Cordelia said as she shadowed him.
“Look, I’m not the person to ask about Spike. He didn’t tell me anything. Maybe you should ask Gunn or Fred,” Angel said irritated.
“I’m asking you. You’re mated to him, right?” Cordelia asked.
“Only in deed apparently,” Angel snapped. “He still has the link shut down between us.”
“And whose fault is that?” Cordelia accused, walking away from him just as Gunn came in the door.
“Thank fuck,” Angel groaned. He finally had a reprieve from Cordelia’s third-degree interrogation. He turned to Gunn, “Well?”
“Well, we hired some guys. There are six thousand of these babies all over town,” Gunn said as he waved a handful of flyers excitedly. The paper read: ‘Angel Investigations’ with the logo on it and ‘We help the helpless. No case too small. Paranormal specialists. 333-555-0126’ underneath.
“Nice!” Angel said as he showed Cordelia a flyer. “I’d call me, wouldn’t you?”
Cordelia scoffed, still angry at him over the Spike issue, and walked away.
“Okay, the website’s up. We’re live!” Fred said. Angel and Gunn went over and looked at the website over her shoulder. Angel grinned as he turned the laptop around to show Wesley who joined them.
“There, beautiful. We’re online. We got flyers. We’re listed in the yellow pages. Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to a new era of Angel Investigations. All we have to do now is wait for that phone to start ringing and the money to start rolling in.” When nothing happened, Angel went on, “Yep, all we have to do is wait. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Just wish Spike was here to celebrate with us,” Gunn said offhandedly.
Angel glowered.
**************************
Somewhere in Los Angeles
A man ran through the pouring rain, glancing back over his shoulder every few seconds at something looming in the shadows. Scared out of his mind of the thing following him, he ran straight into a pile of trashcans. As he picked himself back up, he spotted one of Angel’s new flyers.
Flyer in hand, the man ran over to a payphone, dialed the number and listened to it ring.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
The group was waiting for the phone to ring as Angel promised it would . . . any moment now.
**************************
Somewhere in Los Angeles
The man continued to listen to the ring until he heard someone pick up and say, “Fabrizio’s Pizza!”
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Fred picked up the flyer and took a closer look at it. “Is this the right phone number?”
Everyone turned to look at Wesley who had created the flyers. He turned on his heel and headed back to the office to fix the mistake.
**************************
Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion
Spike sat up in bed and reached over to the nightstand for his cigarettes. Buffy watched as he lit one and took a drag. She never understood the appeal of smoking. Of course she wasn’t thinking about much at the moment as she was still reeling from the effects of her last orgasm.
She looked at him; mentally comparing the two vampires and what just happened with her first time with Angel on her seventeenth birthday. They were two entirely different experiences altogether. Angel was sweet, tender and loving. Spike was rough and tumble. Angel cared that she was satisfied first before finding his own release. Spike was more concerned with getting his end away than whether she had enjoyed it.
Buffy looked at her companion, a frown forming on her face. Why was she worried about whether she enjoyed it or not? Angry with the direction her thoughts had taken, she snapped, “Do you think Angel feels anything for you?”
Spike jerked around somewhat surprised that she was still there. “What are you on about?”
“Well, you’ve been around him a lot the last couple of years. You even managed to distract him from mourning me when I was dead. I just wondered if you thought he had any actual feeling for you. Has he said anything to you? ’Cause, we both know that I’m the one he really loved,” Buffy said snidely.
“What goes on between me and Angel is none of your concern, Slayer. What makes you so special anyway?” Spike asked gruffly, picking his jeans up off the floor by the bed and putting them on, secretly pocketing the underwear she had discarded on the floor.
“I gave him my virginity. We’re soulmates,” Buffy said as if that explained everything.
Spike looked up from fastening his pants and raised a brow. “You’re virginity?” he mumbled around the cigarette. He gave a dry laugh at that, exhaling puffs of smoke. “Do you have any idea how many girls Angel took their virginity from, even before he became a vampire?”
Buffy bit her lip, stifling a whine. But Spike could see he had struck a chord by the tears in her eyes. “But I was special. He gave me a ring.”
“To get you into bed,” Spike laughed. “Let’s not forget: you were an innocent seventeen-year-old just begging for it. I’m sure you were quite the conquest. You were probably the first lay he’d had in a century.”
Angry, Buffy got up and yanked her clothes on. “I really don’t know why I do this, any of it. You’re not special . . . to either of us. You’re just convenient!”
“I’m convenient?” Spike scoffed. “Oh please, Slayer, he’s mated to me. Need I remind you that it was you who came looking for me? You’re the one that comes to me, crawls into my bed. Angel should have told me that the only thing better than killing a Slayer would be fucking one.”
“What?!” Buffy outraged. He ducked the pillow she threw at him. “Is that what this is about for you, doing a slayer?”
“What else would it be, luv?” He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth to blow the smoke out properly. “Your charming demeanor? I wouldn’t be throwing stones or pillows, honey. You seem to be quite the groupie. Wonder what my mate did to tickle your fancy for fucking us? He is quite the thorough lover,” Spike smirked.
“Shut up,” Buffy said disgusted with him and herself.
“Just saying . . . vampires get you hot. Tell me, is it the stamina or the fact that we can stay hard for as long as you need it?”
“A vampire got me hot. One, but he’s gone,” Buffy said, trying not to cry.
She didn’t know why she was letting him get to her like this. For some strange reason she had been coming here for the past two weeks hoping for something. She wasn’t sure what it was yet. All she knew was that he did something for her, something she couldn’t put her finger on yet. She hadn’t been able to really concentrate on anything but slaying and whatever this was between them.
“Yeah, I know just where he’s gone and been,” Spike said nonchalantly with a withering glance in her direction. She looked ready to burst into tears. “You can act as high and mighty as you like, Slayer. But I know where you live now. I can see why Angel lost his soul with you. You were young and untouched. He always did have a taste for virgins. Virgins and nuns, that’s my Sire . . . bonus if they came in the same package, like Drusilla.”
“Dru is loony,” Buffy said.
“Yeah, how do you think she got that way, by the grace of God? Angel made her that way.”
“Not Angel! Angel would never do that. Angelus did that,” Buffy stated adamantly.
“Angel, Angelus. They are both the same person! Can’t you get that through your head?”
“Go to hell, Spike,” Buffy snapped as she grabbed her coat and weapons and headed for the door.
“Always the same, Buffy,” Spike said angrily as he followed her to the door. “You always run away when you hear the truth about your great Angel. He’s not infallible. He’s a vampire who happens to have a soul. Stop fooling yourself into thinking otherwise. I’m tired of this. Get your knickers in a twist and stomp off when it’s something you don’t want to hear. But then you’re back on my doorstep at nightfall, like every night for the past two weeks when you got an itch you can’t scratch. Well, forget it, slayer. I got better things to do than fuck you whenever you show up.”
Buffy whipped around, her hair swishing in the air. “You have to! Angel sent you here to watch out for me to keep me alive and that means doing anything I want,” she said petulantly.
Spike barked out a harsh laugh. “Is that what you think, that I came back to fuck you so you’d stay alive? I don’t give a damn about you. You’ve just made yourself available until I figure out what I’m going to do about Angel. Get off that elevated pedestal you jacked yourself up on. Angel’s pretty much over you. Our problems have nothing to do with you, no matter how you want to think otherwise.”
“You’re bent,” Buffy said, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.
“Yeah, made you scream though, didn’t it? I don’t know what Angel did to you to turn you on to us. But I can guarantee, you haven’t had an earth-shattering orgasm like you’ve experienced the last couple of weeks,” Spike smirked evilly.
“Ohhh, you’re disgusting!” Buffy said as she yanked the front door open, letting a beam of dawning gray through.
Spike flicked the ash from his cigarette onto the stone floor near the open door and reached into his pocket, producing the panties he had picked up earlier. “You might want to take these with you. You left them on my bedroom floor again.”
Buffy scowled and punched him. Smirking, he rubbed the tender area and watched her walk out before slamming the door shut.
“Bitch,” he mumbled as he went to clean up the bedroom from their last sex-capade.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, the Next Day
Wesley walked in with a handful of flyers. “That’s the last of them, six thousand new ones.” When no one acknowledged him, he looked over to see Gunn leaning against the desk, admiring Fred as she busied herself with dusting. His attention was momentarily caught when Angel came in. “I’m sorry about the mix up last night.”
“It’s not important,” Angel said with a dismissive wave. “But we can’t afford any more mistakes. Making mistakes costs money, and making money right now is our number one priority. Hey Lorne.”
“Hi Angelcakes, how’s that money-making scheme coming along for you?” Lorne greeted as he came down the stairs in a silk housecoat.
“Lorne, I need you to use your contacts to find out what Holtz is up to. He’s out there somewhere. We can never forget that. Finding Holtz is our number one priority,” Angel said.
“I thought you said . . .” Gunn started to comment.
“Finding Holtz and making money are our two number one priorities,” Angel corrected. Just then Cordelia walked up behind him and cleared her throat. “Helping the helpless, finding Holtz, and making money are our three number one priorities.”
“Oh, look! We got some hits on our website,” Cordelia said as she scrolled through Angel Investigations new website. At that moment, the phone on her desk rang.
Wesley picked it up, “Angel Investigations, may I help you?”
The phone on the reception desk rang as well. Gunn picked it up. “Angel Investigations, can I help you?”
The phone in the manager’s office rang. Fred dropped her dust rag and ran to answer it.
Angel smiled, “We’re in business.”
**************************
Los Angeles, Sahjahn’s Underground Lair
Justine sat at a small table with Holtz pacing behind her.
“You should be thanking me,” she said angrily.
“For disobeying an order?” Holtz asked.
“For dusting two vamps!” she replied.
“Two vampires of whom I told you to walk away,” Holtz reminded her.
“Guess I misunderstood,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Which is why we’re here,” Holtz commented nonchalantly.
“And speaking of here,” she said flippantly. “Would a couple of light bulbs and indoor plumbing kill you?”
“We are here to determine whether or not you have the commitment necessary for the work at hand,” Holtz said.
“At hand? That’s a joke, right?” Justine coughed out a bitter laugh.
“Why are you wasting my time?” Holtz asked, staring hard at her.
“What do you want from me?” Justine ground out.
“I just told you: commitment. Something you must now convince me you have,” Holtz replied. He looked down at the table where her left hand was pinned to the surface with an awl.
“So, I’ve explained why I’m doing this. Why are you?” Holtz challenged.
“Let’s just say: feeling something is better than feeling nothing,” Justine whispered.
“Take it out any time you like,” Holtz said congenially. “If you’re still here when I return, we’ll consider the next phase of our . . . partnership.”
Justine glared as Holtz walked out and the grate shut behind him.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
The lobby was filled to the brim with human and demon clientele. Lorne, Gunn and Wesley were occupied with schmoozing. Cordelia was at her computer inputting vital client information. Fred took a clipboard from one of the demons as Angel walked past her with new client folders.
“Welcome to Angel Investigations Mr. . .” She glanced at the clipboard, “Blee . . . Lee . . . Shushngrung . . .? Uhm, please have a seat and one of our associates will be right with you.”
“Hey, Lorne, non-human on deck!” Angel called out.
“Coming,” Lorne sing-songed. He excused himself from a discussion with three gray aliens wearing robes and silver facemasks in a language that consisted of mostly clicks, whirrs, and popping noises. Stepping up to Angel and Fred, he said, “The guys with the chrome faceplates, they’re called Nahdrahs. I speak their lingo, sort of. If I understand them correctly they’ve got a job for our leader and a great deal of money.”
“Oh,” Angel perked up at the sound of money. “Let’s not keep them waiting, huh?”
“Well, our leader in this instance being Wesley. They saw his web articles on DNA fusion comparisons in Tri-ped demon populations,” Lorne corrected.
Angel glanced over just in time to see Wesley exit the manager’s office with a group of people and flagged him. “Hey, Wes! Wes, talk to the Nahdrahs.”
Gunn shouldered up to Angel with a young blonde woman in tow. “Hey, is the office free? It’s kind of personal.”
“Yeah, go,” Angel acknowledged. As Gunn retreated, Angel cocked his head at Fred, “If this keeps up, we may have to incorporate.”
Cordelia overheard him as she sat at the reception desk with the phone in hand. “We’re getting stretched a little thin here, Angel. We need to either cut down on the caseload or get Spike back here.”
“Nonsense,” Angel scoffed. “We can handle it.”
“Really?” Cordelia asked with a brow arched in disbelief. “Well then, why don’t you handle it by picking up lines two, three and four?”
Angel shrugged and dropped the folders he carried on the desk to answer a line. “Angel Investigations, your problems are our problems. Okay. How urgent is it? Uh-huh. And what do you do for a living? That’s a good company. You own it? Okay, hold on.” He put the receiver down and motioned to Cordelia, “Pen, paper, quick.”
**************************
Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion
Spike lay on the couch with a blind eye to the cheesy horror movie on television. He missed Los Angeles and Angel – the ungrateful ponce though his Sire was. But Angel’s first priority was Buffy. He had to watch out for Buffy. But when did looking after the Slayer include fucking her? Sure, he started it because he was upset with his Sire’s treatment of him. Not his mate’s treatment. Angel spent more time in Sire mode than Mate mode. If it was Mate mode, then Spike would be down in Los Angeles helping the team as an equal and not the bloody errant childe of the former Scourge of Europe. He swore that was how Angel saw him most of the time.
Which was why he was stuck in Sunnydale again: Number one priority was Buffy Summers, Slayer extraordinaire. Except for when she fell for the vampire and refused to kill him, and then finds out that she has another vampire guardian that she can’t kill. He had a little idea of the reason why Buffy came to him so readily now. There was the fact that she’d been dead and Spike was the only one around that knew anything about that. But another part of him felt that she came to him because he’s the closest she would ever get to having Angel back. He was mated to Angel and therefore the next best thing, according to her calculations.
And the sex was great. Not as fulfilling as was with his mate. But ‘doing a slayer’, as Buffy put it, was something to be fully experienced. Faith was right when she hijacked Buffy’s body and came onto him with that bit about having muscles that would squeeze him until he popped. Spike was surprised that when Angelus resurfaced after Angel had sex with her, he didn’t keep her as a sex slave. He’d known his Sire to keep a slave or two before killing them. Sure, he terrorized them, but they weren’t a project for Angelus like Drusilla was. They were mere playthings to pass the time until he became bored and killed them.
The reminder made his stomach rumble. Spike glared down at his stomach. He got up and went to the kitchen to get some blood. He had a fresh batch of it delivered from the blood bank last night. He had just taken the lid off the container and about to take a drink when the banging from his front door distracted him. He put the jar down and went to the foyer to inspect the noise. He shaded his from the bright sunlight flooding the entrance hall from the wide open door, but no one else was there.
Skirting around the light, he closed the door and gave the space a cursory glance as he called out, “Whatever beastie you are, I know you’re here and I hurt beasties.”
Spike carefully moved to the living room, looking around the corners and then turning in a circle trying to find the source. He could feel something in the room with him. He jumped when something grabbed his jean-clad ass.
“Hey, watch it!” Spike growled.
The noise from the TV suddenly stopped and the television switched off by itself.
Spike gave an irritated sigh. “A ghost is it?” He continued to search for the source. “Go and haunt the living like a good spook.”
He looked around confused. Maybe Angel found some magics to play a trick on him. His Sire was about due for a follow-up like every other time Spike left him before.
Suddenly, something grabbed his shoulder. He tried to grab it, but the invisible object spun him around by the arm and slammed him up against a wall. He gasped at the force of impact and tried to move forward but the imperceptible entity shoved him back again. Then, it ripped his shirt open and he stared down at his own bare chest.
Spike frowned at the turn of events then gasped in pleasure. In a tentative tone, he asked, “Angel?”
“Wrong answer,” Invisible!Buffy replied before yanking him away from the wall and flinging him onto the couch.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Angel walked into the lobby, which was deserted except for some papers strewn around and Cordelia and Fred sprawled on the settee. They were on a much needed break after the day they experienced.
“Is this country great or what?” Angel called out, excitedly waving a check in the air. “Five thousand smackeroos and all I have to do to collect five thousand more, is clean out a vamp nest downtown. Where are Wes and Gunn? I want to show them this before I frame it.”
“Out on a case,” Cordelia replied tiredly.
“There was a young woman whose dead boyfriend is stalking her,” Fred filled in.
“That’s terrible,” Angel said sincerely. “Did you . . .”
“I ran her credit. She’s solvent,” Cordelia cut in.
Angel nodded. Things were working out great on the business front. Now if his love life would just follow suit. He had tried the link between him and Spike many times but it was like hitting a brick wall. All he received for his troubles was a giant headache.
“Angel,” Cordelia’s voice broke through his thoughts. “I don’t think it’s such a great idea to be working on so many cases at once. I mean what if we’re all out making money and some poor devil stumbles in here and needs our help? It’s not like Spike’s here to pitch in since you drove him away.”
“I didn’t --” Angel started to deny her accusation when Lorne stumbled in the door.
“Bon giorno, everybody, bon giorno,” Lorne greeted drunkenly.
“Have you been drinking?” Angel asked, surprised at the empath’s stupor.
Lorne waved him off. “Never fear, angel food cake, I can hold my liquor. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for my firewater.” He burst into a fit of giggles.
“Aren’t they the same thing?” Fred asked.
“Hey, Fred-girl! No, this is special firewater, used to loosen the tongue of my Gar-wak snitch. They light the water on fire and there’s chanting and a bong, and look out, Houston!” Lorne said, waving his arms.
“Did you learn anything about Holtz?” Angel inquired.
“Oh yeah,” Lorne nodded. “He is really not fond of you. I’m led to believe that he and his Grapplar demons had plans to,” He gestured with a slicing motion of his finger along his neck, “you. Is my breath stinky?” He exhaled in Angel’s direction.
Angel leaned back and closed his eyes as he fanned the air in front of his face. “Yeah. Holtz is using the Grapplars as soldiers.”
Lorne shook his head. “Not anymore. He poisoned them and he’s looking for replacements. Humans.”
“Do we know where he is?” Angel asked.
“Bro, I’m on it,” Lorne said. “I’ve got rats looking all over this town. Well, not actual rats – except two of them. Oh, God, I don’t feel so good.”
Angel noticed the Nahdrah’s walk in behind Lorne, clicking away as soon as they entered.
“Lorne? It’s all snap, crackle, pop to me,” Cordelia commented.
“These are the guys that wanted Wesley,” Angel filled in.
“Not anymore,” Lorne corrected. “Now they want Fred.”
“For what?”
Lorne clicked the question to the Nahdrahs then turned back to Angel when he got an answer, “Her enormous brain. They’re convinced she can solve the puzzle they want to give to their prince.” Addressing Fred, he said, “They weren’t offended by you before, they were impressed.”
“Really?” Fred asked surprised.
“Where would she have to go and how long would it take?” Angel asked anxiously.
Lorne had a clicking conversation with the Nahdrahs and then said, “They live on a barge, currently docked in the marina. And a day or two depends on how long it takes her to solve the puzzle.”
“Are you game?” Angel asked Fred.
Fred shrugged, “Sure.”
“You’ll have to go with her to translate,” Angel ordered. “Tell them it won’t be cheap. They’re getting two of our top employees. That’s salary, per diem, overtime . . .”
“Okay, okay,” Lorne said, holding up his hands in placation. He clicked Angel’s terms to the Nahdrahs. One of them lifted a metal suitcase up. Lorne translated, “They apologize for their paltry offering and hope you’ll accept,” The Nahdrahs opened the case to reveal bundles of cash. “FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!?!”
“Fifty . . .” Angel echoed.
“. . . Thousand . . .” Cordelia echoed.
“ . . . Dollars?” Fred finished.
Angel hurried to grab the suitcase before the Nahdrahs could change their minds. “We accept! Fred, good luck!”
**************************
Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion, Night
Xander knocked on the door even as he opened it. He didn’t like dealing with Spike on any level. Spike was no different than the vampires who had killed his friend Jesse. The only thing that made Angel palatable was that he had a soul, but only just. It wasn’t like he and Angel were ever best buds or anything. Personally, he didn’t see whatever Buffy saw in the blood sucker, no matter how spiky and gelled his hair was or how deeply brooding, chocolate pools his eyes were. He rejoiced openly when Angel left town for good. Spike was a necessary evil. The group had to deal with him when they needed the muscle, or when they lost a member of the team . . . like now.
Buffy had literally disappeared earlier. She was still in town, but invisible. She had left Xander and Anya to research her latest predicament. Then, Anya discovered that the road pylon that had been made invisible along with Buffy was disintegrating. Xander immediately went to look for her. Willow didn’t know where she was or even that she had gone “missing”. So, here he was at Spike’s mansion, hoping that the blood-sucking menace would help.
Upon entering the mansion, Xander looked around for Spike only to see the living room in disarray. The moonlight showing through the high windows revealed the couch cushions were askew. The coffee table was cockeyed. There was a disaster trail leading down the hall to Spike’s bedroom.
“Spike?” Xander called out.
The sounds of moaning and heavy breathing could be heard, the closer he came to Spike’s bedroom door. He pushed the door open a Victorian bedroom lit only by the lamp on the nightstand by the bed. In bed was Spike, his lower body covered by the sheet and he looked to be humping empty air.
“Spike?” Xander inquired, confused by the sight. The blonde vampire whipped around in alarm to look at him. “What are you doing?”
“What am I . . .?” Spike was at a loss for a response to that. He had to think of something quick and the only thing that came to mind was, “What does it look like I’m doing, you nit? I’m exercising, aren’t I?”
In demonstration, Spike turned back to the bed and acted out a couple of push-ups. There was a small, surprised squeak from Invisible!Buffy.
“Exercising,” Xander said skeptically, “Naked . . . in bed?”
Spike stopped, stood up on the bed and wrapped the sheet around his waist before turning to face Xander. “A man shouldn’t use immortality as an excuse to let himself go; got to keep fit for the killing. Otherwise you end up looking like Angel.” He sat on the end of the bed facing the boy.
“Yuh-huh,” Xander said skeptically. Gesturing to the door, he added, “Looks like you had a little trouble in the living room. Whole place looks like a mini-disaster area.”
Spike’s brows drew together in annoyance. “You came in here to criticize my housekeeping?”
“No, uh, not really,” Xander stammered before getting to the reason behind his visit, “I’m looking for Buffy.”
“Haven’t seen her,” Spike announced all-too-quickly.
Taken aback by the reply, Xander said, “Well, uh, you wouldn’t. Fact is: she’s come down with a slight case of invisibility.”
Spike looked appropriately surprised by that. “Yeah? How did, uh . . .”
“We don’t know that yet,” Xander replied with a strange look on his face as he watched Spike jump as if someone or something was trying to push him off the bed. “Anyway, she’s not at the house, and I really, really need to find her.”
By this point, Spike had started to fidget as if he were nervous. “Uh, tell you what, I’ll . . . take a peek around first chance I get . . .” He swatted at something near his head, “. . . And if we bump into each other, I’ll clue her that you’re on the lookout.”
Xander looked at him, skeptical of his odd behavior. “After your . . . exercises.”
“Yeah, right,” Spike said as he continued to swat at something around his neck.
Xander turned to the leave the bedroom, but looked back. He shook his head again and walked out.
When Spike heard the slam of the front door, he sighed and looked over his shoulder, “That was bloody stupid.”
“What’s the matter? Are you ashamed to be seen with me?” Invisible!Buffy asked in a mocking tone.
Spike scoffed as he got up, tossing the sheet aside. It fell on top of Buffy, revealing the outline of her legs and hips.
“Come on,” she whined. “He had no idea I was here. This is perfect.”
Spike walked out of the room, naked. He returned a few minutes later with a tumbler glass in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. “Perfect for you, you mean.”
“Well, picture me confused,” Invisible!Buffy said. Spike shook his head at the lame joke before he took a drink and swallowed hard. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“No, it’s not what I want!” Spike yelled, angrily tossing his glass and shattering it against the stone wall. “What I want . . .” He let out an annoyed sigh. “What I want isn’t here. Don’t kid yourself, Buffy. We both know what we’re doing isn’t anything more than a sexual release. My life – or what I thought was my life – is in L.A. and I’ve been transferred here until my mate pardons me and lets me go back home.”
“Well, until then, you’re stuck here and we can have some fun in the meantime,” Buffy said airily.
“This vanishing act’s right liberating for you, isn’t it? Go anywhere you want. Do anything you want – or anyone,” Spike ground out.
Buffy was taken aback by his attitude. “What are you talking ab--?”
“The only reason you’re here is that you’re not here,” Spike pointed out.
“Right, of course,” Buffy said sarcastically. “As usual there’s something wrong with Buffy. She came back all wrong.” She shifted on the bed. “You know, I didn’t ask for this to happen to me.”
Taking a swig from the bottle, Spike commented, “Not too put off by it though, are you?”
“No! I’m not,” Buffy stated. “Because for the first time since . . . I’m free!” She tossed the sheet aside. Spike looked around trying to figure out where she was headed. “Free of rules and reports . . . free of this life.”
Spike raised a brow at that. “Free of life? I’ve got another name for that: Dead. Are you so gung ho about joining Angel that you’d risk your life for it?”
“You risked you’re life for being undead, why can’t I?” she asked.
“That was different. It was in a different time and place. Circumstances were wildly different. And when did you live your life according to my example anyway?” Spike argued. Damn Angel for making her fall in love with him. For that matter, damn Buffy for thinking the sun rises and sets on his Sire.
“Why do you always have to . . .” Buffy’s voice took on a plaintive tone. “I thought we were having fun.” She tried to wrap herself around him, but Spike grabbed her shoulders and held her at arm’s length.
“Yeah, now! But sooner or later your chums are going work out a way to bring you back to living color.” He released her. “You need to go. Get dressed if you can find your clothes, and push off. ’Cause I’ve got better things to do than --” He lost his train of thought and looked down to watch his dick disappear into nothing only to feel a warm, wet tongue. “Okay, that’s cheating.”
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Cordelia stood at her desk, counting the money they received from the Nahdrahs. “There are some things in this world that are so cool. Fifty grand is way up there on the list,” she said to herself as she added the stack of bills to the other money in the briefcase. “Just going to lock this up in the safe and . . . Right after this vision.”
Just then, the beginnings of a vision started. They had gotten easier to bear since she had become part demon. There were blurry images of Fred solving the puzzle that the Nahdrahs elected her for. The image shifted to that of the prince she was doing it for, and the laptop screen and finally of the knife coming at Fred.
“Oh God, Fred,” Cordelia said to herself, “Don’t solve that puzzle.”
Cordelia immediately called Wesley’s phone and then Gunn’s, but neither answered. She wished Spike was there. It was things like this where the blonde vampire could have been a real help. Something happened though and he left. Angel still refused to tell her what that was. According to Gunn, Spike had gotten a call to go back to Sunnydale; Buffy had done something stupid that required Spike’s attention. If it was a simple thing, then Spike should be back by now. But he hadn’t returned.
“Well, I’m just going to have to go down to the marina myself, return the money and explain that it was all a big mistake.” She hung up the phone, closed and locked the briefcase before heading out of the hotel with it.
**************************
Los Angeles, Marina
Fred slid the last piece of the puzzle into place and the glass pyramid she had formed lit up. The Nahdrahs around her clicked their approval and excitement. Fred blushed at what she could only assume was praise as she removed her glasses.
“Oh, it was nothing,” she said. The Nahdrahs took hold of her and pulled her along. “Oh, are we going to celebrate?” She asked hopefully even though she doubted they understood her. “Say, has anyone seen my friend with the horns? He wasn’t feeling so good and I’m a little worried about him.” Just then, they entered another room and Fred noticed Lorne lying on the floor, tied up. She became nervous at her situation. “And me now.”
“Yeah, I know. We’re in a bit of a situation here,” Lorne acknowledged.
The Nahdrahs pushed Fred down into a high-backed chair across from their prince and closed the clamps to hold her in place.
“Oh God!” Fred cried. “I don’t have to marry him, do I?”
“In fact, no, and that’s something we can be grateful for,” Lorne assured her.
“What are they going to do?” Fred asked anxiously.
“Well, it seems the prince’s head – or heads, I should say – wear out every so often, and they uh . . .” Lorne started to explain.
“Cut off someone else’s and give a new one?” Fred finished for him.
“Uh, ah . . .” Lorne stammered as he craned his neck trying to see what was going on.
When one of the Nahdrahs raised a machete threateningly at Fred, she screamed, “Lorne, help! Help!”
A high-pitched whistle stopped all motion. Everyone turned to see Cordelia standing in the doorway holding the money.
“Hey! I’d just like a word here,” she said calmly.
“Oh-ho-ho,” Lorne said excitedly. He’d never been so happy to see anyone in his life. The feeling caused him to heckle his captors, “You guys are so going to get your butts kicked!”
“Lorne!” Cordelia snapped agitated.
He nodded. “Sorry. I yield the floor to the person not tied up on it.”
“I need you to translate. Tell them that there’s been a terrible misunderstanding. I know you’re men of honor and I know we can make a simple exchange – in a-a civilized manner.”
When Lorne just started at her, she glared at him and nodded towards the Nahdrahs. Lorne immediately started to click away to the alien race. Cordelia set the briefcase on the floor at her feet.
“We return your gracious gift and you give us back Fred. Sorry about the confusion, but we kind of need her head at work,” Cordelia said.
“Firmly attached to her body,” Fred added.
“That goes without saying,” Cordelia agreed. When Lorne just stared at her, she hissed at him, “Say it!”
“Oh, uh . . .” Lorne turned to the Nahdrahs and clicked the translation. They replied with raised weapons. “I told them what they had to do, and then told them what would happen if they didn’t do it.”
“Lorne, we’re in no position to be threatening these nice people,” Cordelia chastised Lorne with a tight smile.
“Oh, sure we are,” Lorne said. “Angel, Wes, and Gunn can take ’em! I can’t see them from down here. Where are they anyway?”
“Out making money,” Cordelia replied through clenched teeth.
Lorne gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, so when I told them that they were surrounded by killer warriors, I was stretching the truth a little?”
Just enough to get us all killed,” Cordelia said with a big smile. “Lorne, do these guys have groins?”
Fred glared at Cordelia. “Is that really important right now?”
“Work with me here,” Cordelia replied.
“I think so. I never knew one intimately,” Lorne said.
Cordelia stepped forward and kicked one of the Nahdrahs between the legs. There was a metal clanging sound and Cordelia let out a silent scream from the painful connection of her foot with the metal body. She hopped back on one foot, falling backward through the curtain. A second later, she was rushed back in, braced by Wesley and Gunn, who proceeded to attack the Nahdrahs.
A Nahdrah standing close to Fred held the blade of his machete against her throat and she screamed at the top of her lungs.
“Fred! Help her!” Cordelia barked.
Both Wesley and Gunn popped up out of the fight and cried in unison, “Fred!”
Gunn grabbed a metal rod while Wesley grabbed the suitcase of money. The hurled both at the Nahdrahs. The rod knocked the Nahdrah wielding the machete backwards, away from Fred. The suitcase decapitated the aging prince before it burst open upon hitting the wall. Everything came to a stop as the Nahdrahs stared at their headless leader.
“Well, I guess when you cut off the snake’s head . . .” Gunn trailed off.
All the Nahdrahs started to click and raised their weapons.
“You piss the other snakes off,” Wesley finished.
Suddenly Wesley and Gunn went down under the attack. Then, the skylight broke and Angel dropped in on them, joining the fight. While Angel fought the Nahdrahs still working off the anger he built up over dealing with the last case he was on, Wesley and Gunn worked on freeing Fred.
Cordelia joined Angel, fighting back to back. In the melee, Angel said over his shoulder, “I should have listened to you!”
“Well . . . yeah,” Cordelia agreed.
“I should have never left you guys like that,” Angel continued as he punched out the last opponent.
“Well, yeah,” Cordelia agreed again.
Wesley and Gunn helped Fred out of the chair.
“If you can keep your head when those around you are losing theirs, I guess you’re pretty lucky,” Fred quipped. “I could kiss you both.”
Wesley and Gunn were about to take her up on the offer when Lorne cleared his throat. They all looked down at him.
“Uh, still tied up down here,” Lorne said. The three of them proceeded to untie him.
Cordelia and Angel stood back and watched until Angel had a moment of realization. “Guys, can I say something?” He glanced at the pile on money on the floor. “Money’s important, but it isn’t everything. I got . . . I got carried away. I just,” He glanced at Cordelia standing beside him. “I never had friends and human lives dependent on me before. But that’s no excuse.” He looked at the money again. “Where was I?”
“Money’s not the most important . . .” Cordelia said.
“No, it’s not,” Angel reaffirmed more for himself than the others. “What’s important is family . . . and the mission.”
After a beat, Cordelia said, “They tried to cut Fred’s head off. We earned every penny.”
All of a sudden everyone but Cordelia was gathering the money off the floor and stuffed in it their pockets.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
“I’m just suggesting that we get a boat . . . a yacht,” Cordelia said as she followed Angel into the hotel with Wesley, Gunn and Fred
behind her.
Angel had the briefcase full of money that Cordelia and Fred had repacked in the car on the ride back. A few bills had flown out the window once or twice. Angel stopped the car and made one of them get out and collect the stray greenback.
“No. This is to pay our bills and the mortgage on the hotel,” Angel said.
“Fine, we’ll pay our bills and the mortgage and then put a down payment on the boat,” Cordelia amended.
“We’re not getting a boat,” Angel said.
“Why not? They’re fun,” Cordelia wasn’t giving up.
“Because they’re expensive and when would I go on this boat, hmm?” Angel said as he locked the money in the safe.
“Moonlight sails,” Cordelia offered. “I bet Spike would find it romantic.” Angel glowered at her. She threw up her hands. “Okay, pay the bills and then rent a ski condo in Aspen.”
“A ski condo?” Angel raised a brow.
“There’s got to be some kind of fun in our lives,” Cordelia pouted.
“Hmm,” Angel thought about it. The image of Spike impersonating a snow bunny in the ski condo popped into his head. A naked Spike in the ski condo by a roaring fire. “I like a ski condo.”
“Well, sure you would. Snow, trees . . . chipmunk robots on ice,” Cordelia said.
Angel was still imagining naked Spike spread out on the rug in front of the fire inside the ski condo. He barely caught the mention of . . . “Chipmunk robots on ice?”
Cordelia gave him a huge grin that reminded of the girl she used to be when he first met up with her in L.A. Shaking his head, he said, “Excuse me guys. There’s something I have to do.”
**************************
Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion
Spike was in the process of cleaning up the latest disaster from Buffy’s last visit when his phone rang. He let it ring as he righted the couch, the cushions and the coffee table before he answered it.
“Hullo?”
“Spike?”
“Yeah, pouf, what’d ya want?” Spike asked as he continued to clean up while balancing the phone.
“I . . . well, I just,” Angel stammered then admitted quietly, “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Well, you heard it, now get off the line. I might be expecting a phone call or something,” Spike commented sardonically.
“Please Spike, just for a few minutes?” If Spike didn’t know any better, he’d think Angel’s voice had a desperate tone it. “Maybe you could catch me up on how things are going there? Everyone’s okay here. Fred kept her head and everything.”
That got Spike’s attention. “What do you mean ‘Fred kept her head’? What’s going on down there? Why is it that whenever I leave, you put the girls in harm’s way?”
“Uh,” Angel sounded a little guilty about what happened with Fred. “It was nothing we couldn’t handle. It was just some stuff with a demon clan needing her to figure out a . . . a puzzle. You know, math and stuff.”
“Yeah, well she’s good at that kind of thing,” Spike replied.
There was a long pause. Spike thought Angel would never speak again, just stay on the line with him. He fell back on the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table, getting comfortable. If he was going to be on the phone all night listening to Angel not breathe into the receiver . . .
“So, pouf, talk: how are things in L.A.?” Spike prompted.
“About the same, you know? Killing demons, making money,” Angel replied.
There was another pause, longer than the one before. He could hear Angel shift uncomfortably and then there was a beleaguered sigh. When it seemed like Angel wouldn’t be forthcoming, Spike spoke.
“Listen Angel, it’s been great catching up with you. But if you don’t have anything more to say then I’ve got better things to do than sit here. Do you need something? Is there a new demon that needs researching? Course you got Percy and Fred there to take care of that stuff.”
“No, nothing like that,” Angel assured him. “The weather is pretty nice here though. You know, sunny and all – except at night, when it’s dark, you know?”
“Okay, that’s it! I’m hanging up,” Spike replied. He was about to push the power button on his phone when he heard Angel’s outcry.
“Wait, Spike! Don’t hang up yet.”
“Then, start talking, Angel,” Spike sounded irritated.
“I, uhm, I just wanted to tell you that I miss you, a lot,” Angel said softly. “That’s it. I just miss you.”
“Yeah?” Spike inquired. “I guess I sort of miss you too. That is if I admitted that sort of thing. But, it’s only sometimes, when I’m not busy with my babysitting schedule. She’s a handful these days with being back from the dead and all. She still hasn’t accepted it completely. I can’t afford to be mushy. It goes against my Big Bad image.”
“Me neither I guess,” Angel conceded. “Maybe if things stay quiet down here I could come up to see you? Or you could come down here.”
Spike smirked into the phone. It sounded like a stumbling attempt at Angel trying to apologize to him. “I suppose. If things stay quiet that it might be okay. I’ve have to check the schedule and make sure there aren’t any apocalypses and the like planned, you know? Clear my calendar.”
“That’d be nice,” Angel said optimistically. “I guess I should hang up now. See you soon, Spike.”
Spike smirked as he hung up. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that phone call was Angel’s way of apologizing for what happened between them. Of course, he wouldn’t say anything to his Sire. Can’t have the old man thinking Spike would forgive him that easily. Things could be looking up, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath over it. He’d have to see how it worked itself out.
Spike put the phone on the end table beside the couch and turned the TV on. For the first time in weeks, he felt calmer.
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