Author's Note: I've never written Angel fic. I've never written Buffy the Vampire Slayer fic. I've never written a crossover fic. I have written a metric ton of account character fic, though. Here's hoping that it all works out, somehow...

Also? Been writing this fic sporadically for what must be over ten years. I started before the last season of Angel aired, so that's where I'm at with this.

Hell-A, Part 1

By Mice

Prologue

Westchester, NY

Warren Worthington, III had just finished up a call on his cell phone when he saw his friend Bobby Drake. His good, CPA holding friend Bobby Drake.

"What's going on, Warren?"

"I just got word on one of my investments."

Bobby grinned. "Is it another whore house? Because if you need me to do undercover work, all you have to do is ask..."

"Not quite. It's an investment I made in Los Angeles." Warren picked up a file that was next to him. "It's a firm called Wolfram and Hart." Warren showed Bobby the file. "When I made the investment with them, it was after an all night frat party I attended - when we had the Champions. At the time, it was a pretty small investment. I had maybe three percent interest." Warren showed Bobby a pie graph. "That's how much I own now."

Bobby whistled.

"Apparently, my stock split when I became one of the Horsemen of Apocalypse. " Warren handed the paper work to Bobby. "I need someone to go to L.A. and check it out for me."

"Why can't you?"

"I have responsibilities here."

"I have responsibilities, too!"

"Taping "Passions" for Hank does not count as a responsibility. Besides, I got him TiVo."

Bobby's face went white at the news. "NOW you get TiVo? You make me leave, and then you get TiVo?!"

"The other reason I need you to go is because there has been a suspicious disappearance of the head of accounting over there. What better way to infiltrate the offices than by planting you, financial wizard, over there?"

"You've never called me a financial wizard before. Not even when I insisted on being called a financial wizard after I graduated with top honors in accounting from Dartmouth."

"That's because you only got top honors after a suspicious break in at the computer records center at Dartmouth, the same weekend Hank went over to visit you."

Bobby pouted. "My mom called me a financial wizard...even my father did, though I don't know if it was because he was proud of me or laughing at me..."

Warren handed him the file. "If you go to L.A., Bobby, I promise you that I will arrange your accommodations."

"I want a penthouse."

"Not a problem."

"And a car."

"Of course."

"A nice one, too. A convertible."

Warren nodded. "Now, aside from doing the accounting, I need you to send me reports on what you see over there. And most importantly, I need you to tell me if this Angel guy is better looking than me."

Bobby looked over the file. "Are you sure that this isn't another whore house?"

-1-

Bobby couldn't say that he was thrilled with his new identity. For one, his alias was "Bobby Drake". Secondly, Warren told him not to use his powers while working there. This would put a hamper on his macking skills. As Wolfram and Hart's new Head of Accounting, he was to be as exciting as a saltine cracker. The only thing that made him stop from doing it all was Warren's generous expense account. And his car was really cool. Really, really cool.

-2-

"There was an Astin-Martin parked in my space this morning," Wesley said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Who in this building has an Astin-Martin?"

"Did the license plate say "Lady J"?" Fred asked.

"You know that's a James Bond car. I should think that if anyone should have a James Bond car, it should be me..."

Angel walked into the conference room and turned his attention to Wesley. "Are you talking about the Astin-Martin in the garage?"

"If I had an Astin-Martin, as well I should, the plates would say "Britain's Most Dangerous Weapon"."

Fred shook her head. "You couldn't fit all of that on there, it would have to be something like-"

"MstDngrsWpn"," Angel answered effortlessly. Wesley and Fred stared at him. "Well, you couldn't have it even if you tried...not that I did. It's licensed to Frankie Muniz."

"That kid on that show on Fox?" Gunn asked as he entered the room. "Can he even drive yet? Can he even reach the pedals?"

Angel kept his eyes down. "Apparently, the license plate is on a 1959 yellow Corvette."

To this, all the men groaned. Fred stared at the door, daring Lorne to walk in.

"Hi, kids, sorry I'm late." Lorne walked in and glared at Wesley. "Someone took my parking space."

"Well, someone took mine!"

"Actually, I re-assigned the spot to our new head of accounting," Angel interjected.

"The new head of accounting has an Astin-Martin?" Wesley grumbled. "This truly is a place of evil."

"I called this meeting because we know nothing about this guy..." Angel looked at his file. "Robert Drake."

"We hired someone we know nothing about?" questioned Gunn. "Now, maybe I'm not the best at business, but even I know that's not a smart thing to do."

Angel nodded. "I know. But it wasn't my decision. It was this guy named Worthington, who owns some stock in this branch of Wolfram and Hart."

"But you have controlling interest," Fred added.

"Yeah, but Worthington still has a lot of pull with his amount."

"How'd this happen?" Gunn asked. "We "ended world peace". We got Wolfram and Hart. What'd this guy do, become friends with some Apocalyptic creature?"

"Funny you should mention that, Gunn," Angel answered as he opened the file again. "This Worthington guy was a horseman of Apocalypse."

"You mean "of the Apocalypse"," Fred corrected.

Wesley shook his head. "No, I don't think he does. There is an actual creature with immense power called Apocalypse."

"Well, I can see how Worthington polished enough apples to get on Wolfram and Hart's good list," Lorne commented.

"There's also something else about his family providing the financial backing for the Cabbage Patch Kid merchandise..." Angel changed his focus. "Point is, we have no idea who this guy and he's going to be handling probably the most evil part of Wolfram and Hart. I want everyone to keep a close eye on him."

"We can do what we can, but we have our own departments to handle!" Gunn explained. "I think someone should be on this guy twenty-four/seven."

"Set him up with a security guard?" Fred offered.

"I've got a better idea." Angel went to his intercom and pressed a button. "Let him in."

The five turned their attention to the door and found a silhouette reaching for the handle. It turned slowly...if a bit ineffectually.

"Uhm...Mr. Angel?" the silhouette called from its side of the door. "It won't open."

Angel looked at Lorne. "Did you lock it?"

"I swear I didn't."

There was a slight banging on the door. "I think it maybe stuck..." the voice said.

"No, don't do that, I'll come over to-"

The door flew open and a young man fell on the floor, only to promptly pick himself back up. "I'm okay, everyone, don't worry." He grinned and waved at everyone at the table. "Hi."

Angel went over to check his door, which seemed to be fine, and closed it. He then went by the young man. "This is Andrew. He's going to be Robert Drake's secretary."

"Administrative Assistant," Andrew corrected.

"Can we trust him?" Wesley asked.

"I think the question should be, "Can we trust him not to stick his finger in an open light socket?" Lorne replied.

"Uhm...now, that's a good question," Andrew replied in a very official tone. "I think you would be pleased to know that I was part of Buffy's gang ...her crowd...her posse...and I helped fight the first evil. And...I was once her arch-nemesis. Willow tried to kill me. It was pretty intense."

Wesley sighed and muttered under his breath, "Things have certainly gone downhill since I left Sunnydale..."

"Mr. Angel?" a voice called from over his intercom.

Angel went over to it and pressed a button. "Yes?"

"Robert Drake is at the front desk to see you, Mr. Angel."

"Just a minute." Angel turned to the others. "I need someone to show Mr. Drake around."

"What about him?" Gunn asked while pointing at Andrew.

"And I need someone to show Andrew around." Angel first looked to Lorne.

"I think all this," Lorne gestured to his face, "Would be a bit much to show on the first day."

"Good point." Angel then turned to Fred.

"I'm a poor, helpless, defenseless girl-"

Gunn laughed.

"Well, he doesn't know that I'm not! Do you really want him potentially attacking me on the first day?"

"And I'm busy doing what it is I do today," Gunn added.

"I may hurt him and his Aston-Martin, too."

"That Aston-Martin out there is Mr. Drake's?" Andrew exclaimed before sighing. "Just like James Bond."

"I'm the British one! I should be James Bond!"

"Maybe Mr. Drake's British..." Andrew offered.

"Enough!" Angel shouted to his team. "One of you is going to show these two around. If no one will volunteer, then I'll settle this the way we did back in Ireland..."

-3-

"Is that really the way they settled things in 18th century Ireland, Mr. Wyndham-Price?"

"While I haven't looked up it's origin, I'm fairly sure that "Eenie-Meenie-Minie-Moe" has been quite ubiquitous throughout history. I heard an account once that involved Atilla the Hun." Wesley glared at his reflection in the elevator doors. "Either that or Angel hates me."

The doors opened to the front lobby and Wesley spotted Robert Drake right away. He was a tall, dark, fearsome man with a pony tail who would be a worthy opponent. The pony tail made sure of that. Wesley went up to him. "Welcome, Mr. Drake, to Wolfram and Hart."

The man looked at Wesley and held up a bag. "I just deliver bagels, man. Try that guy." The man pointed to a light haired man dressed in a light brown suit and black Converse sneakers. "He's been trying to get a bagel from me for the past ten minutes."

Wesley took small, dreaded steps towards the man, not wanting to speak up. Unfortunately, Andrew did.

"Hey, we have the same shoes!"

"Mr. Drake?"

The man got up and took Wesley's hand. "Call me Bobby."

"Call me Mr. Wyndham-Price."

"His name is Wesley," Andrew told Bobby. He held out his hand. "My name is Andrew and I am your Administrative Assistant."

Wesley glared at Andrew out of the corner of his eye. "I'm just doing my job, Mr. Wyndham-Price..."

Bobby grinned as he listened to Wesley. "Hey, you're English!"

"I'm British."

"Like James Bond. I love Bond. I even have an Aston-Martin, have you seen it?"

In that moment, Wesley was quite tempted to show Bobby this special room Lilah had once shown him. It was referred to as the Office of Downsizing Management, but the office was really just a vat of acid. "Yes, well, let's start the tour, shall we?" Wesley began walking towards the science lab, Bobby and Andrew soon followed. "So, Bobby...tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Oh, I don't know...why don't you tell me about how you know Worthington."

"Warren and I went to school together."

"So he's a millionaire and you're an accountant?" Wesley cocked an eyebrow. "Interesting."

Bobby felt himself being challenged. "We both went to the same private school. It was very, very exclusive - money didn't factor in."

"What made it so exclusive?"

Bobby almost answered, "Having mutant powers that are way cooler than having a British accent!" but he knew that having a British accent was much cooler than most powers. And he wasn't supposed to say anything about being a mutant. "It was exclusive because of our ability-" Think, Bobby! he scolded himself. You had high IQ's, you all spoke five different languages, you-"to play music. We were each accomplished musicians."

"What did you play?"

"Oh, I didn't play."

"You just said that you all were accomplished musicians. What instrument did you play?"

Bobby kicked himself mentally for forgetting his lie so quickly. "Oh, see, you confused me...because you said "play" - our professor told us that we weren't "playing" our instruments, rather we were "becoming" our instruments." Bobby was quite sure that was a line out of "Mr. Holland's Opus".

"Well, then, which instrument did you "become"?"

"I "became" a French horn in the seventh grade!" Andrew interrupted. "But then my teacher said that I should look into "becoming" the triangle."

Wesley shot Andrew a glance before stopping them. "Here we are." Wesley opened the clear glass doors. Wesley's eyes surveyed the area pick out Fred immediately. He wanted another round of "Eenie-Meenie-Minie-Moe".

-4-

What were the odds that Fred would beat him again. Beat me again approximately three times more, Wesley thought privately and bitterly. Now not only was he stuck showing Bobby around, he owed her fifty dollars.

"Any questions so far, Bobby?"

"I do, actually." Bobby got out a notebook. It was a special notebook because inscribed in its cover, "The Secret Notebook of Ninja Iceman". It helped him get through what looked to be his incredibly boring mission. He had comprised a list of questions while waiting to board his airplane at La Guardia. "What is it that Wolfram and Hart does?" He felt that it was better to start off honestly.

Wesley stared at him. "You don't know?"

"No."

"Worthington didn't tell you?"

"Warren and I haven't talked for a while until this job came up." Bobby was proud of his mad skillz. "I've done favors in the past - if you know what I mean - and as a reward, he gave me this job."

"You agreed to take a job whose company you have no clue about?"

"I know that I get a lot of money. That's all that mattered." Bobby thanked Hank for taking his copy of Coyote Ugly away and leaving Wallstreet in its place. It was helping. A lot. Unless there was an opportunity here that involved drinking and scantily clad women dancing and grinding on a bar, which could lead to a whore house, just like he originally suspected. "The Aston-Martin was just a bonus.

Wesley seethed as he thought of new ways to get rid of Bobby. "I think I'm going to show you our entertainment division, next..."

-5-

Wesley knocked on Lorne's door and entered. Lorne's chair was turned toward the window and he was talking on the phone. "Look, I know that the old W&H dealt with being evil, but as the new face of said company, I'm telling you, I don't care what ring two solid hours of Full House re-runs are in the inferno, we need to put a stop to it. There has to be some decent show we can put on instead. Uh huh...no, Charles in Charge is not a suitable replacement! In fact, use this as a rule of thumb - "Just say nay-o to Baio", okay? Bye, Dante." Lorne hung up the phone and swiveled around in his chair. "Hey, Wes. See you brought the new guy down." He got up to shake Bobby's hand, waiting for the screaming or shaking to begin. "I'm Lorne."

Bobby took his hand. "I'm Bobby."

Wesley stared at Bobby, waiting for a reaction. "Lorne is a demon from another dimension."

"Cool. I'm from Long Island."

"Are you a demon from Long Island?" Lorne asked.

"No, just human. But I think some of my neighbors are..."

Wesley spoke up. "You know about demons?"

"Well, I don't know anything about demons, but I've met quite a few."

"...at the private school you attended for accomplished musicians?"

"Oh, no. I've met them-" Bobby stopped himself before he could answer anything remotely close to "by a steaming hole in the ground with my best friend's wife, who is a clone of his recent wife and mother of his child, standing above them in a skimpy outfit."

"-at a camp for accomplished musicians."

"You met demons at a camp?"

"Interlochen?" Lorne asked.

Bobby nodded. "Yes."

Wesley looked at Lorne. "Interlochen?"

"It's in Michigan. A lot of the musically accelerated go there. A lot of demon activity - both actual attendees and...well, not paid attendees. Bigfoot was there for a bit." Lorne went to his bar and poured himself a drink. "I don't know what you learned at Interlochen, kid, but if you have any other question about demons, Wesley there is your man."

Wesley glared at Lorne. He seemed to be doing a lot of glaring today...

"Oh, and I have demon experience, too. I've, uhm, summoned a few and have even cast a few spells," Andrew added, his body unconsciously swaying to something. "Have you ever summoned a demon, Mr. Drake?"

Bobby shook his head. "I dated a goddess once..."

All three turned to look at him. "It wasn't a big deal. Oh, but I did date a nebula..."

"What happened?" Lorne asked.

"Turned into a man."

Andrew nodded. "Awesome."

Wesley took a break from glaring and blinked. "I think it's about time you saw your office, Bobby."

-6-

Bobby dialed Warren on his cell phone. "It's me, Warren. No, it's not to thank you for the car - oh, you liked that - I don't know, Warren, I'm at work - yes, I do know it's an Aston-Martin - I don't want my staff to hear me say that...again - oh, okay - You are the God of Cool, Warren and I promise to be your obedient slave for life-" Bobby stopped talking as he saw Andrew in front of him. "Hold on, Warren." He turned to Andrew. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to know if there was anything you wanted me to do. I'm getting kind of bored out there." He picked up a Jango Fett figure off of Bobby's desk. "And you got better toys than I do." He immediately started to walk Jango Fett over to Han Solo and started a low volume fight between the two.

Warren said something Bobby's ear, to which he repeated. "Andrew-" Andrew continued his new game. "Andrew!"

"Sorry, Mr. Drake."

"Andrew, how much do you know about Wolfram and Hart?"

Andrew moved his head around for a moment, contemplating the question before answering. "Uhm, I don't know much, but I know stuff."

"Do you know Angel? - no, Warren, not you!"

"I know stuff about him."

"How?"

"I used to hang with his ex-girlfriend."

Bobby nodded. "Tell you what, Andrew, let me finish up my call and I'll take you out to lunch."

"Can we go in your Aston-Martin?" Andrew asking, brightening. "I'd offer my ride...but it's a Vespa scooter. And I only have one helmet."

"Absolutely. And Andrew?"

"Yes, Mr. Drake?"

"Jango Fett and Han Solo would never fight. They never even knew each other."

Andrew sighed with happiness. "Yes, Mr. Drake."

-7-

Angel hung up the phone and turned to Wesley. "I have to admit I'm surprised."

"What's that?"

"Andrew is out on lunch with Bobby."

Wesley checked his watch. "Is it lunch time already?"

"Not the point. Andrew can pump Bobby for information."

Wesley winced at the phrasing.

"You said that Bobby wasn't phased at all when he saw Lorne?"

"He said something about demons at a band camp-"

"Interlochen?"

"How did you know?"

"That's where I met Bigfoot."

-8-

"...so that's when Buffy saved the world that time."

"Were you hanging out with her then?"

"Uhm...no. I think I was at a friend's basement...uhm, house."

"Andrew, were you playing Dungeons and Dragons?"

"I was watching Baywatch."

"Andrew..."

"Okay, I was playing Dungeons and Dragons!" Andrew grinned. "Are you sure we should be drinking during our lunch break, Mr. Drake?"

"It's just a margarita, Andrew. It's a candy-ass Kool Aid drink."

"It's a strong margarita..."

Bobby changed the topic. "So, what's the story with Angel?"

"Oh, he's a vampire."

Bobby whitened. "A vampire?"

"Oh, it's cool. He has a soul now." Andrew finished his drink. "By the way, you're going to hear that phrase a lot."

"'It's cool'?"

"'He has a soul now.'"

"I see."

"Angel is this champion of the people-"

"And Buffy's ex-boyfriend?" Bobby wondered how ugly this Slayer chick was.

Andrew sighed. "Yeah." Andrew got up. "I need to use the bathroom."

Bobby waited until Andrew was gone to raid his messenger bag. In it, he found his wallet. One was a picture of Andrew and two other guys. He turned it around and saw, "Me, Jonathan and Warren." Bobby looked at the Warren in this picture and had a brief thought that it might be Angel. That would be creepy and Buffy would definitely have to be beaten with an ugly stick to go out with him. "Please, do not be my boss..."

He found another picture of a blond girl with a weird nose and bony arms. He turned the picture around and found the name "Buffy" on it. He was right. She was ugly.

Bobby was still looking for something in Andrew's bag when he came back. "Uhm, Mr. Drake, what are you doing with my bag?"

"You don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

"Nothing."

"Oh."

"Hey, Andrew, why do I have your bag?"

"Didn't I give it to you?"

"I don't think so."

"I must have, why else would I have given it to you?"

"Well, take it back. I have no need for it."

-9-

Lorne knocked on Bobby's door. Angel had instructed him to go down to Bobby's office and see if he could get him to sing to see if he could get anything. It was desperate and rash, but it might work.

"Hey, Lorne."

"Did you know that it's a Wolfram and Hart tradition to have a karaoke hour with yours truly on your first day?"

"Really?" Bobby asked, curious.

"Really?" Andrew asked, excited.

Lorne made a mental note to give himself a raise.

-10-

"Can you hear me Major Tom! Can you HEAR ME Major Tom! Can you HEAR ME-"

Lorne walked out of the room, shaking his head. He saw Angel waiting by the door and just shook his head at him.

"Something wrong?" Angel asked.

"I went in there to get Bobby to sing like you told me, but your Boy Blunder has been hogging the microphone for most of the hour, and let me tell you, the "hoyay" in there is overwhelming..."

Lorne made his way out, leaving Angel alone to look at the door and say, "Hoyay?"