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Wordsmith
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They lingered over dinner. It seemed more intimate wedged around the table
in the back booth than the long table had the night before. Though their number
wasn't diminished much the conversation flowed more around the large circular
table. Cordelia didn't seem to mind Lindsey coaxing Fred into the conversation
as much, although Wes was keeping a sharp eye on the ex-lawyer. Willow had pointedly
not sat next to Riley but overheard the young man apologizing to Spike. Hearing
him admit to Hostile 17 that Xander had been right and that Spike's intervention,
regardless of the motivation, had saved his life went a long way to dissuading
her from the whole shovel concept. Although, she reflected, she would like to
know what he had been referring to when he mentioned something regarding the
'fake stake'. Unfortunately,
that conversation had ended upon Xander returning from the men's room.
Lorne's club was close enough for them to walk to in the warm summer night. Cordy had said something about the neighborhood being dangerous but judging how Angel was shadowing her Willow was willing to bet she couldn't be safer. Squeezing Tara's hand and sharing a smile, she tried to put her concerns about Angel's curse out of her mind. She tried to appreciate a rare slaying-free night without an apocalypse to abort where she could just show off her girlfriend and relax with her favorite people.
Wes took Fred back to the Hyperion. He was going to join them later. Fred had had her fill of crowds and chose to call it a night rather than go with them to meet Gunn at the karaoke bar. She offered to wait for Stephanie 's mom to drop off Dawn and make sure she was safe.
Walking down into Caritas was like stepping into some old movie, except everything wasn't in black and white. Actually, Willow thought it was quite colorful; not only the decor but the patrons were vivid and memorable. There was a six-armed woman with two mouths singing close harmony with herself to "Mama He's Crazy" on stage . Lorne's attention was on the performer but a sleek, silver, androgynous demon, slightly taller than Xander, greeted them at the door and silently, with a nod, escorted them to a reserved section with three tables pushed together.
Angel took their order up to the bar. Cordy whispered to Willow that he had
an ulterior motive and was bypassing the waiter so that he could check with
one of his informants. It was nice that she and Cordelia had outgrown their...
well, it hadn't been a rivalry. Willow was just relieved that now that all the
forced structure of high school was gone that she and Cordy could treat each
other like adults. The harder part was admitting she had been as much to blame
for the roles they played as Cordy. Willow knew she had let her geeky insecurity
trap her in the role of research girl. It had been so easy then to blame Cordelia
for putting her there instead of admitting that being homework helper and book
study girl had made her feel
safe in their very scary high school - even before they knew about the Hellmouth.
When she thought back to her reaction to Xander and Cordy dating she realized
she had been the one who was obsessed with labels and panicked when Cordy had
stepped out of the stereotype. Deep down she had known she would never lose
Xander's friendship but had told herself that was why she had reacted so badly.
The truth was uglier. She hadn't been ready to take off her mask and if Cordy
was willing to admit that there was more to Queen C than a vain, shallow beauty
queen, people might have wanted Willow to look behind the computer nerd on the
honor roll.
Shopping with the bitch queen of Sunnydale had been eye-opening. Cordy had known every resale shop and bargain basement in the metro area. She could assess the store with a glance and had pulled them out of a couple before Willow had seen more than the inside of the door. But she had found a lovely jacket for Tara in the perfect color.
Willow was a little in awe of how independent Cordy was. She couldn't have imagined doing what Cordy had done. The thought of picking up and relocating to a different city, getting an apartment alone . Well, sure, there was Dennis, she thought, which was probably nice when you heard a noise in the middle of the night, but Cordy paid all the bills. It seemed so grown up, more so than it had when Xander had gotten his own place. Willow was kind of dreading graduation, and not just due to crispy mayor flashbacks. If they kept up their course load, what with all the summer work, she and Tara would be graduating in the spring. She wasn't sure she was ready to start interviewing and, gasp, working. Tara read her mind, like always, and squeezed her hand under the table.
Cordy had been full of tips that, oddly enough, no longer sounded like put-downs. She had found several plain silk knit tees in Willow's size. When Willow pointed out that they weren't her style Cordelia said, "They're washable silk. First, silk wears like iron and the colors do not fade like cotton. Second, these have no style, they're a staple ,like flour. You build your style around them. You can wear them with jeans or a skirt and go casual or under a suit jacket. You should start building a professional wardrobe now, slowly, so you get just what you want. You'll need at least a week or two's worth of clothing to start a job, and the chances of your first paycheck covering it are slim. Use your accessories to personalize your style. You buy if an item meets three requirements and only then; if the fit is perfect, if the color is flattering and if it has classic lines. Nothing dates clothing faster than froufrous. Trust me, it kills me to think how much I spent on trendy crap that I can't wear because it's so out of style."
Cordy had sighed wistfully over lattes before they headed back to the hotel to get Xander. Tara had been talking about an internship she had applied for in a holistic healing center just outside Sunnydale. Willow didn't know what had surprised her more, Tara pausing mid-story and saying to Cordelia, "You can always go part time," or Cordy's sad headshake. It was easy to forget how well Cordy had done in school - she had always hidden her intelligence - and college, although always treated as a given, had been more of a social event in the brunette's plans .
Cordy sighed again now as looked around for Angel and their drinks. She had only ordered a mineral water and Willow wondered if she were impatient for its arrival because she wanted to take something for her headache. Tara seemed to have warmed to the outgoing brunette and in an uncharacteristic burst of stubbornness, while they had shopped, had refused to take one more step until Cordelia sat down and rested. Cordy had tried to brush it off, but had finally admitted how much pain the visions were causing her and how scared she was.
Just as Cordy started to stand, Spike said, "You stay with your mates,
Princess, I'll find the bloody tosser." He stood in his seat, which was
behind the table and against he wall, and vaulted the table in a powerful
jump. Landing perfectly in the aisle he bowed to the smattering of applause
and crossed the crowed lounge, heading for the bar.
~~~~~~
Buffy was wide-eyed with panic. After running out the strange room into a richly
paneled corridor, she found herself at the far end of a hallway lined with locked
doors. She wrapped the sheet tighter around herself and forced the lock on the
closest door. It was an office. The room she had been in before seemed like
a private home or a hotel, but once she had reached the corridor it had seemed
like the same building she had tried to get out of before. She didn't remember
anything about her last escape attempt after
reaching the ground floor. Failing to find a door which lead out she had just
reached the point where she was going to throw something though one of the thick
glass-like walls and suddenly, bam, she was laying naked while a little blue
demon gibbered and jumped up and down on her back. The door opened on a dim
spacious office with a wide view of the L. A. skyline. As she frantically bolted
to the phone on the desk, she thought about the demon who had been with her
when she appeared in the room. She wondered if he had
teleported her from the atrium to that room and if there were any more of the
little blue creatures. She hadn't meant to hurl him through one of the windows,
just to get him off her. Of course, it could be lucky she had slayed him before
he spit something icky or stabbed her with some hidden poison. Maybe he worked
for the big dog-headed guys with the swords.
She dialed home and was startled to hear that the line was no longer in service. As she wondered what had happened to the sword she had taken from the guard demons, her eyes strayed to a page-a-day calendar on the desk. August 31, 2001. Shit. Giles, she thought, I have to find Giles. There was no answer at Giles' home number and the magic shop line was busy. Willow wouldn't still be in the same dorm room, and then she thought, Xander. Buffy dialed the familiar number and almost screamed when his machine picked up after three rings. What the hell was the etiquette for this? Should she say 'Hi, not dead. Yeah, I know its been like, six months, but could you come get me? I'm in some demon-infested high rise in downtown L. A. and I really need a ride home - and a shower 'cause some creepy blue guy had his toes on me.' No, that would send him into full-out babble mode when he got the message. Speaking of message, this was just weird. Xander's voice said, "This is the Xand-man. If you want anything to do with Luther Construction, contact Abby at the site during normal business hours. If you need anything to do with the COTH," and there was an awkward pause, "er, gaming group, contact Jonothan at the magic box or his pager. If you want Spike, too bad, he's mine. But feel free to leave a message anyway. We'll be out of town until September 7th. Oh, and if you're planning on robbing my place, my best friend's a witch and you'll be turned into a potted plant, which won't get watered because, hey, I'm going to L. A."
She started to dial the magic shop's number again only to morph into Glorificus. Glory shrieked as she tore the sheet from her body. The receiver of the phone crushed under the power of her delicate fist. When she jumped up and down, the floor of the building shook. She shoved the desk and it crashed halfway through the opposite wall. She whirled as Lilah entered the office, "You. Said. He. Was. Gone!"
~~~~~~
Spike sidled up to Angel and said, "Pet, you should have sent the drinks on over, your little girl smells of pain."
Angel whipped his head around to look at Cordelia. Before he could start over to her Lorne said, "Torsten, honey, chop chop. Can't have our guests wasting away now." The silent silver demon bowed with a smirk and carried a try far too large and heavy for a human to lift over to the VIP area. "So, muffin," Lorne addressed Angel, "just here to wow the out-of-town family or looking for info on that prophesy you mentioned?"
"Actually, I was wondering if you had heard anything on that story that Bennie was telling when I got here?" Angel said.
"What about how a 120 lb blueberry splattered on to the pavement outside of everybody's favorite evil law firm? Granted, Noxxians tend toward the lighter side of darkness, but anyone working upstairs would have been screened. Still, not their usual way to dispose of the hired help. Why?" Lorne lounged against the bar as he spoke and lifted his wrist to shoulder level. He held his empty hand in the shape of a glass and didn't so much as glance at it. After a moment his red eyes narrowed and he turned his head just as Torsten returned and slipped a Sea Breeze into his waiting hand. The smirk was back as the silver demon slipped behind the bar.
Ignoring the bartender, Lorne said to Spike, "That's a lovely necklace. I don't recognize the stone, what is it?"
"Silicon," Spike said flatly, draining his glass and nodding to Torsten for a refill.
Angel was torn. He wanted to find out what Lorne had heard about the incident over at Wolfram and Hart, but he wanted Cordelia to enjoy her time with her friends. She had always been surrounded by people in Sunnydale, and though she had made quite a few acquaintances during her arduous auditions, the nature of their work isolated her almost as much his demon did Angel. He wanted her to have a chance to just be a normal young woman visiting with her old chums and not drag her into yet another life-or-death situation. Surely whatever was going on could wait until the Scoobies returned to Sunnydale. Spike was obviously not happy about being reminded about the chip, although he had been frighteningly reasonable about Angel taking in two of the commandoes who had captured him. Angel suspected that Spike was keeping close tabs on him to make sure that his humans didn't get dragged into any local animosity centered around the agency.
After how well the dinner had gone last night he hadn't been prepared for Willow shifting from foot to foot out side the door to his suite early in the morning. She had followed him back to his office, saying much but communicating little. Angel had just considered sending for Xander to translate when Wes came down from one of the guest rooms still wet from his morning shower. It was all Angel could do not to physically restrain the Brit from giving the already bouncing Willow coffee before they sat down to sort through Willow's news.
After a few more minutes of beating around the bush and apologizing and explaining it was just second nature, not that she didn't trust Angel, but as she had clarified, Xander had fast and firm rules about a secure perimeter, Willow had whispered, "You have bugs."
"Well, it's an old hotel. We have a service, I could call..." Angel had been at a loss as to why this would shake the girl up so until he had seen Wesley's eyes widen and then look suspiciously around the office.
"No, oh, well, we cleaned it's just I thought you should know... It was just a little spell, I could set up something stronger and leave you... well, kind of the magical equivalent of a virus scan, er... I figured you didn't know, what with them being of a techno-magic blend, " she had added hurriedly.
"Listening devices, Angel. She found..." Wes turned a questioning look on Willow.
"Mostly listening, lucky you're a vampire... Oh, not lucky for you, but... well, if you had more mirrors around there would have been visual access as well as sound. Someone went to a lot of trouble... Is everything okay? Is there anything I can do? Angel, are you in trouble? It's just if it's dangerous... We'll all help of course, but Xan will freak if we don't relocate Dawn. He's got this wicked maternal thing going and Spike will pull you apart if you keep him in the dark... He was like that even before we lost Buffy," she said with a wince. She still tiptoed around Buffy's name where he was concerned.
Watching his impatient Childe scowl into his drink, Angel remembered how good it had felt to have Spike at his side when he had gone to check some sources as to where the listening devices had come from and how they might have been set up. The thought that they might have been there ever since their trip to Pylea was disconcerting. Leaning back on the bar, Angel was treated to the sight of Xander slipping through the crowd and heading for the bar. In Angel's opinion Xander's hair was getting far too long to leave loose. Overlong and scruffy, it had dried in soft waves that were only partly out of the collar of the white gauze shirt he had slipped over a black tank top. Paired with dark black jeans the ensemble little resembled the bright primary colors Xander had preferred when Angel knew him.
"Hey, Deadboy, all this partying cutting into your brooding schedule?" Well, he might look different but it was the same old Xander. He let Angel buy him a beer and groped Spike before heading over to chat with Lorne and be introduced to the bartender of the week.
Angel had only intended to make small talk and had meant the remark as a compliment when he had commented on how much Xander had changed. Spike growled at him and said, "Would you lay off! Know him? You don't know him - you never knew any of them - all you ever saw was her. Which is typically blind of you - they're so much of who she was."
He had loved Buffy but the Scoobies held him forever frozen in their minds as her angst-ridden vampire boyfriend. He would take it from humans but not from someone who should know him better. "Don't bring this back to Buffy..."
"I'm not, but you were so obsessed with her you never saw him. Do you remember coming back to the mansion and raging about the Slayer's white knight, that night he thwarted you at the hospital? You went on and on, told me all about the time he forced his way into your lair, the smell of fear rolling off him, and shamed you into helping the Slayer fight the Master," Spike said.
Angel was almost relieved. Of course, Spike would see all things in how they related to Xander. He wasn't blind to the way Willow had been watching him and Cordelia. He was glad Spike had not felt the need to make public everyone's concerns about his sex life and the state of his soul. So he was more than willing to let Spike say his piece, even if his impetuous Childe would insist on painting him as the villain to Xander's shining example. "I never said shamed..."
"Oh, no - not the might Angelus. Cor, I can just see it; a skinny, scared
kid with nothing but a wooden cross and stones twice the size of yours..."
Spike turned and leaned next to him, smirking and obviously enjoying
whatever mental images his twisted imagination was providing.
"Your point?" Angel tried to sound bored but was having trouble suppressing an answering smirk.
"Did you see him, really? Angelus, he was fifteen when you were too 'afraid' - wasn't that what you told the Slayer? - to go with her to hunt her lost friend in the tunnels under the cemetery." Spike's voice had softened from his usual derisive tone. Shades of William's original accent colored it and he seemed serious.
"He told you?" Had Buffy shared that conversation with her friends? He wondered. It wasn't one of his proudest moments. He had still been deluding himself that he could remain in the shadows and merely point her in the right direction. Buffy may have been reluctant to embrace her destiny as the Slayer, but Angel had needed to be dragged, fighting it all the way, to the path of redemption.
"Willow," Spike said with a shrug and set his empty glass down on the bar. "Fifteen and he went down into the tunnels with Buffy to find his friend and you the big strong vampire...
"Spike - " Angel said. This was neither the time nor the place for them to get into this.
"Fifteen when he had to dust the same friend to save that cheerleader of yours," Spike continued.
"Spike - " Angel knew it was futile. Spike was relentless. If Angel didn't stay and listen the blond would be shouting it from the top of a table soon.
"Sixteen when he bullied you into taking a stand against the Master. Seventeen when he decided to spare Buffy the decision and tried to keep her from knowing she was killing someone she loved. Eighteen when he led tots he used to play with into battle against an ascending demon. Nineteen when he stormed the Initiative and risked his life and his sanity in that soul-melding spell. Twenty when he stood against a hellgod without a prayer. Did you ever see? Any of them? They were kids. He's not yet twenty-one and you were following his orders in that dust-up back in the Dale," Spike finished in that oddly vulnerable voice.
His humans, Angel thought, William the Bloody has indeed claimed the Slayer's team as his own. Angel shook his head with rueful acceptance and then realized something Spike had just said, "He's not twenty-one? Spike, I just gave him beer."
"Relax, you pillock. October. Hey, you didn't give me beer," Spike chuckled.
Angel smiled back, oddly glad to have his Childe at his side. "Spike...You want a beer?"
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