Okay, so here's Chapter 3. I wasn't planning on bringing Spike in until way later, but Angel was being such a drama queen, and I think Spike makes an excellent charcter in a story about spies. Not that he's subtle, but hey! He's violent!
And for anyone who is worrying (or hoping) there will be NO spuffy. Maybe some harmless flirting, but nothing else. I'd hate to have to get Angel to kill him.
Chapter 3
In a world where everyone lies, the truth takes on an important quality. Truth is the holy grail in a world where lies are traded as a commodity and where it is rare for anyone to have more than a piece of the puzzle. Truth is also a weapon. It can be dangerous. And it can be turned against you. But sometimes the risk of keeping something secret can be greater than sharing it freely, and it also makes you seem more trustworthy, at least in most cases.
Unfortunately, this wasn't one of them. Buffy steeled herself to drop the bomb on Giles before he found out for himself.
They had moved from the hotel to a nearby restaurant which had good beer, Giles had informed her, and tables that were far away from each other in a noisy environment. Perfect. But they were still in public and Giles very likely had several weapons on him. Best not to chance it yet.
"…And that's the last thing I remember," she said with a sigh. His face was furrowed and he looked deep in thought.
"Well," he said, "It doesn't sound as though anything on that particular trip caused your blacklisting… Though one can never be sure." Buffy shrugged.
"From what I heard…" she said trailing off and cursing her slip.
"What?" Giles inquired. She shook her head.
"Nothing," she said. "I'll tell you once we're back at the hotel." She frowned for a moment, pondering how she had gotten there and who was paying for, well, no. Duh. But she still added it to her list.
The list had begun after the ordeal in Japan, as a way to deal with the questions and guilt that her first encounter with Angelus had produced. In later years, she had added other things to it, other questions she wanted him to answer. He had laughed when she had once sleepily told him about it and covered her in kisses, promising that one day he'd tell her everything. That day still hadn't arrived. Not that she wanted it to. Really.
She sighed. Denial didn't suit her but she still tried the best she could. She noticed that Giles was looking at her with mild concern.
"I'm fine," she assured him. He gave her a nod.
"Well," he said, "I had thought to take my leave of your company tonight and meet you in the morning. Does that, ah, work for you? Oh, and if I may inquire, how are you going to pay for your hotel room? I am more than able to take care of it if need be, dear girl." Buffy gave him a strained smile.
"I really do need to tell you something else tonight Giles," she said, "but I can't tell you here."
He looked at her for a moment and gave a nod. He paid in cash and left a perfectly average tip. They took a cab to a nearby hotel and then walked a few blocks to where Buffy was staying.
Once in her room, Giles sat down in one of the armchairs and steepled his fingers.
"I'm assuming this is important," he stated. Buffy exhaled.
"Yes, it really is," she said, "But before I tell you, I want you to put all of the weapons you have on you into the hotel safe. Please," she added. Giles looked at her with suspicion. Theirs was not a profession that bred trust. But in the end, Giles trusted her enough to do so, and enough not to ask why. Besides, it wasn't as though he wasn't capable of defending himself without the Walther PPK and revolver or knives he kept on him. He placed them in the safe and locked it. Regarding her all the while, he calmly moved back to his seat.
"Very well then," he said, "Care to share, Buffy?" The ironical tone made her smile for a minute, and then frown, realizing that the particular instance he was referencing was, of course, tied to Angel.
It was getting a tad ridiculous.
"Okay," she breathed, "Okay, Um, Giles? Promise no immediate revenge seeking suicide mission type-things, okay? 'Cause well, I, well, it would be bad. Really bad."
"Good lord," Giles said, "This must be severe."
"Yeah," Buffy said. "Well, it could be. Very bad. Which is why there will be no reckless killing, kay?"
Giles raised an eyebrow sardonically.
"Point taken," Buffy said. "Okay, so, okay, well, you know that anonymous tip you got telling where I was and stuff?"
"Yes," Giles said with a touch of impatience.
"Well, it kind of sort of came from Angel..us" she tacked on quickly. Giles looked scary when he was mad. But the sort of haunted rage that crossed his face before he regained control was even worse. There was something inherently wrong with it; it was like watching a parent break down. Not that she hadn't already witnessed that and worse.
"What was he doing?" he spat out. The phone rang. Buffy looked at it. Giles looked at it. He snarled.
"He's monitoring us, isn't he? That thrice damned bastard." Buffy winced.
"I didn't have any materials to do a sweep. And I woke up here," she said. Giles stalked over to the phone and wrenched the receiver off.
"What?" he snapped. On the other end, Angel laughed.
"Really Rupert! Whatever happened to British decorum?" Just because he would eventually have to get Ripper to drop his vendetta, didn't mean he couldn't have some fun first.
"What do you want?" came the snarling reply. Oh, that was a good question wasn't it? He had a general idea, but still needed to work out the details.
"Put Buffy on, would you?" he asked.
"I bloody well will not!" Ripper retorted. Angel sighed. People were so uncooperative at times.
"You can rest assured, Ripper, that I only have Buffy's best interests at heart. And though surrogate father you may be, Buffy has been an adult for a very long time now. Let her decide for herself."
He heard the two argue briefly from one of several bugs he had planted in Buffy's hotel room. His golden girl picked up the line.
"What do you want, Angel?" came the expected unhappy reply. Whatever. She would be at least a little relieved to hear from him.
"Good question darling, but I think you can do better." There was a silence on the other line as she contemplated what he had said.
"Okay," Buffy responded. "What do I want?" Angel grinned. Buffy was so much more than just a pretty face. And incredible body. He mentally ordered himself to stop drooling.
"You, my dear, and Rupert who I'm sure is listening to our every word, want to get out of the hotel and go somewhere safe. Do you recall the group of London bombers that you humiliatingly destroyed in '91 Ripper? Because they certainly haven't forgotten you."
He heard Ripper swearing and Buffy questioning him.
"I'd go quickly, you two, Michaels is on a plane that arrives in about 20 minutes." He heard Ripper taking back the phone.
"How do you know this? And how do they know where we are? Why would you tell us anyway?" Why did people always question his motives? He wasn't that bad of a guy, if one discounted all the people he had killed…
Eh, they mostly deserved it anyway.
"An…associate of mine, goes by Spike, he has a bit of an issue with them, and he asked me to keep tabs on them."
"And you did so why?" he heard Buffy from the bug. "Cause you're such a nice guy?" Angel smiled.
"He's good at what he does." He replied. "Anyway, 17 minutes and counting Ripper. Best of luck. I'll be in touch." He hung up with a smile on his face. Buffy getting burned was very promising. And it may yet turn out to be the best bit of fun he'd had since Vienna.
He quickly and efficiently packed up his things and took the stairs down to his car. He may have looked a bit funny carrying a suitcase down the stairs, but he was handsome so all oddities were forgivable. Being trapped in an elevator, a prime spot for assassinations, was not. He swung the suitcase into the trunk and pulled a sleek Beretta out of the glove box. He pulled out one of his cell phones and dialed the number he needed from memory.
"What is it you wanker?" came the irritable reply.
"Hello to you too, William," Angel shot back.
"Shut the hell up, Angelus, can you delay them or not?" Angel grinned.
"I can't… but I know some people who'll be doing it regardless." He waited a moment as Spike contemplated his statement. Three, two,-
"Cut the cryptic shit Angelus, who and why and do they know about me?"
"I won't tell you yet, because the man is the reason they're coming here in the first place, and only in the vaguest of terms," Angel responded. He heard Spike snort down the line.
"Well that was bloody uninformative, thanks for all your help," came the sarcastic reply. Angel frowned. He needed Spike to do what he wanted without making it seem like he was manipulating the other man.
"There are two of them," he told Spike, "But the Liberators are after the man."
"A couple, eh?" No. No they were not. Angel repressed a brief flare of anger. Spike hadn't seen them. Or lead Buffy to the man best equipped to help her survive the world she had been thrust into.
"No," he said firmly. "An older man and a woman young enough to be his daughter. He's her mentor. Harm them in any way, and will kill you, as painfully as I can manage. And you've known me long enough to know what an unpleasant experience that would be William." He could practically hear the wheels spinning in Spike's head.
"Is this girl the reason you've been planning an exit strategy for the past two years?" It had been longer than that, but Spike really didn't need to know that.
"It doesn't matter," he replied. "Find them Spike, and either they'll lead you to the Liberators, or the Liberators will come and find you."
A grunt of agreement came down the line and Angel terminated the call. As he sped down a back alley he noticed his tail heading the wrong direction with satisfaction. He didn't want the bother of blowing up the other vehicle. Things tended to get messy when he did that, and he was planning on sticking around L.A. for a while.
Besides, he had work to do.
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