Los Angeles, CA.
Monday
The busy Los Angeles streets bustled with people on the cloudy Monday morning. The business district was a swarm of people heading to work. In the middle of a large group of suit-clad people, lawyers probably, a man with shock white hair strode purposefully towards his destination.
His dark-charcoal suit contrasted his hair and pale completion greatly. The man swiftly pulled open the front door to the Wolfram and Hart law firm headquarters.
"I have an appointment with Lilah Morgan," he told the receptionist in a thick British accent. "Name's Darcy."
The receptionist glanced at her book and smiled widely at him. "Twentieth floor, her secretary will meet you there." He nodded his thanks, and gave her a cocky wink before proceeding to the elevators.
The ride in the elevator passed quickly and before he knew it he was at floor 20. A man of about 24 greeted him when he stepped out. "Hello Mr. Darcy," the man offered shook his hand. "Ms. Morgan is expecting you, this way please."
The two men stopped at a set of large oak doors and knocked. "Come in," a female voice came from the other side. The men entered as Lilah stood to greet them. "Thank you James, that will be all," she addressed her secretary.
James nodded and left. "Please sit," Lilah indicated to an empty chair. "So Mr. Darcy, what is it that brings you here. I have to admit I was intrigued when you called."
"Call me William," the man stated, giving her a sexy grin. "Actually Ms. Morgan-"
"Lilah," she injected.
"Lilah," he smiled again. " I believe that we may have a common goal. I'm here to help you."
"Help me with what, William?" she asked with a slight grin.
"Get rid of Angelus," he replied, smirking as Lilah's grin faded.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "And what do you know about Angel?"
"Let's just say we're old acquaintances...."
* * *
William stepped out onto the street and checked his watch. Realizing the time, he began a brisk jog. Three blocks and about nine near collisions later, he rounded a corner and spotted his ride. Hopping into the passenger side of the convertible he turned to the dark haired girl beside him. "Piece of cake," he drawled, cockney accent returning.
"Sun's coming out luv," he noted the clouds beginning to part. She flipped the switch for the top to come up, shielding him from the deadly rays.
"So, it all worked out?" Cordelia asked, beginning the drive home. "Vamp detectors didn't go off?"
"Fine. You know for a lawyer, that bint's pretty daft," he replied, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling off several plastic sensor tabs connected to a small black box. "The pulse simulators and heat pads worked fine."
"Good, Angel will be glad to hear it," she paused, as he changed from his suit jacked and dress shirt to a black t-shirt and a long leather duster, contemplating her next words.
"Somethin wrong?" he asked, glancing quickly at her.
"Yeah, um, Spike," she said slowly. "Buffy called this morning."
"Oh," he replied, trying to hide the hurt in his voice at the thought of her.
"She asked if we'd heard from you yet. Spike, you have to go back, or at least call her! We can't keep lying to her for you," Cordelia stated matter of factly.
"I will, I just..."
"When?! Look, we're all glad for your help here, but Spike it's been a month since you came to LA, and you still haven't called them. They don't even know that you have a soul. Obviously they miss you, Dawn calls every week!"
"Sorry princess, but I still don't know what to tell them, they won't care anyways," he mumbled, staring out the window at the passing streets.
"Please! Gag me much! You sound just like Sir-Broods-A-Lot, whom I happen to love a lot, but still plays the martyr! Do I have to start calling you Peaches Jr. now?"
Spike huffed loudly and pretended to ignore her.
They were both silent the rest of the ride back to the hotel. As Cordelia pulled up the driveway, Spike jumped out of the car and walked towards the doors then paused.
"I'll think about it," he said to her, not turning around. Cordelia smiled sadly, knowing he couldn't see, as he went inside.
TBC...
The busy Los Angeles streets bustled with people on the cloudy Monday morning. The business district was a swarm of people heading to work. In the middle of a large group of suit-clad people, lawyers probably, a man with shock white hair strode purposefully towards his destination.
His dark-charcoal suit contrasted his hair and pale completion greatly. The man swiftly pulled open the front door to the Wolfram and Hart law firm headquarters.
"I have an appointment with Lilah Morgan," he told the receptionist in a thick British accent. "Name's Darcy."
The receptionist glanced at her book and smiled widely at him. "Twentieth floor, her secretary will meet you there." He nodded his thanks, and gave her a cocky wink before proceeding to the elevators.
The ride in the elevator passed quickly and before he knew it he was at floor 20. A man of about 24 greeted him when he stepped out. "Hello Mr. Darcy," the man offered shook his hand. "Ms. Morgan is expecting you, this way please."
The two men stopped at a set of large oak doors and knocked. "Come in," a female voice came from the other side. The men entered as Lilah stood to greet them. "Thank you James, that will be all," she addressed her secretary.
James nodded and left. "Please sit," Lilah indicated to an empty chair. "So Mr. Darcy, what is it that brings you here. I have to admit I was intrigued when you called."
"Call me William," the man stated, giving her a sexy grin. "Actually Ms. Morgan-"
"Lilah," she injected.
"Lilah," he smiled again. " I believe that we may have a common goal. I'm here to help you."
"Help me with what, William?" she asked with a slight grin.
"Get rid of Angelus," he replied, smirking as Lilah's grin faded.
"Who are you?" she demanded. "And what do you know about Angel?"
"Let's just say we're old acquaintances...."
* * *
William stepped out onto the street and checked his watch. Realizing the time, he began a brisk jog. Three blocks and about nine near collisions later, he rounded a corner and spotted his ride. Hopping into the passenger side of the convertible he turned to the dark haired girl beside him. "Piece of cake," he drawled, cockney accent returning.
"Sun's coming out luv," he noted the clouds beginning to part. She flipped the switch for the top to come up, shielding him from the deadly rays.
"So, it all worked out?" Cordelia asked, beginning the drive home. "Vamp detectors didn't go off?"
"Fine. You know for a lawyer, that bint's pretty daft," he replied, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling off several plastic sensor tabs connected to a small black box. "The pulse simulators and heat pads worked fine."
"Good, Angel will be glad to hear it," she paused, as he changed from his suit jacked and dress shirt to a black t-shirt and a long leather duster, contemplating her next words.
"Somethin wrong?" he asked, glancing quickly at her.
"Yeah, um, Spike," she said slowly. "Buffy called this morning."
"Oh," he replied, trying to hide the hurt in his voice at the thought of her.
"She asked if we'd heard from you yet. Spike, you have to go back, or at least call her! We can't keep lying to her for you," Cordelia stated matter of factly.
"I will, I just..."
"When?! Look, we're all glad for your help here, but Spike it's been a month since you came to LA, and you still haven't called them. They don't even know that you have a soul. Obviously they miss you, Dawn calls every week!"
"Sorry princess, but I still don't know what to tell them, they won't care anyways," he mumbled, staring out the window at the passing streets.
"Please! Gag me much! You sound just like Sir-Broods-A-Lot, whom I happen to love a lot, but still plays the martyr! Do I have to start calling you Peaches Jr. now?"
Spike huffed loudly and pretended to ignore her.
They were both silent the rest of the ride back to the hotel. As Cordelia pulled up the driveway, Spike jumped out of the car and walked towards the doors then paused.
"I'll think about it," he said to her, not turning around. Cordelia smiled sadly, knowing he couldn't see, as he went inside.
TBC...