Daria picked up the talisman again. A couple of days had passed, surely someone must have said something that could be useful to her by now. She'd even worked out a way to fast forward, as it were, through the inconsequential stuff. Which she did now. Didn't these science geeks talk anything but shop? She was about to give up in disgust when something was said that piqued her curiosity.

"How many people are you taking lunch for, Fred?" That was the underling.

"Just me." There was an awkward giggle. "I know my eyes are probably bigger than my stomach."

"And when did you start taking your lunch in Angel's office?"

"Oh, we're doing that in turns. Angel says it helps him keep in touch with what's going on." Daria had heard her share of liars, and this girl wasn't even 'B' list. Something was up. But how to fit the pieces of the puzzle together? She wished they'd quit tinkering with the talisman and return it to Angel's office. Almost as if a genie had heard her wish and granted it, the underling spoke again.

"Are you going to take this back to him? We've run all the tests we can think to run, and it seems harmless enough."

There was a long silence, and Daria was almost driven to start chewing her nails.

"I guess I'll take it up there and see what he wants done with it."

Daria smiled evilly. Now maybe she could get some real information.

&&&&&&&

Wesley was going through the archives when he ran across a picture that nagged at him for some reason. A pair of communicating talismans. For some reason, they looked eerily familiar. Then, he recalled where he'd seen it before. On a trip to the lab a couple of days ago. Someone had sent one of the pair to Angel. But which one was it? He thought he'd just pop into the lab and see if Fred had found anything else out about it.

&&&&&&&&

"Lunchtime," Fred announced, walking into Angel's office. "I hope this doesn't have to go on too much longer, it's getting awkward."

Rose rolled her eyes, and Angel gave her a look. "I didn't say anything," she protested.

"You were thinking awfully loud, though," Fred said. "Oh, by the way, Angel, here's that little thingamabob you got in the mail. All the tests we could think to run on it came out negative, so it's probably harmless."

Angel took the talisman from her and flipped it in the air a few times, like a coin. "I still don't like it, Fred. Why would someone who obviously wishes to remain anonymous send me something this valuable? It doesn't add up."

Fred shrugged. "Not my department," she remarked. She started pulling containers out of a tote bag. "Don't just sit there, Rose. I didn't lug all this stuff up here just so you guys could watch me eat."

Rose joined Fred and opened up one of the containers. It contained a viscous off-white liquid with green things floating around in it. It smelled noxious. "What is this?" she asked suspiciously. Had Fred accidentally brought up one of her lab samples instead of lunch?

"Cream of broccoli soup," Fred answered, opening hers and digging in. She saw the look on Rose's face. "You can't know you don't like it if you don't even taste it."

Rose stuck her spoon in the stuff, just enough for the liquid to coat it, and hesitantly stuck it in her mouth. "I guess it does taste better than it looks," she fibbed, trying to think of a way she could empty the container without actually ingesting the stuff. In truth, it tasted even worse than it looked.

Fred sighed and dug something else out of the bag. "Here," she said, thrusting a waxed paper square at Rose. "Chicken salad sandwich. And don't blame me if you get all run down because you don't eat your veggies."

&&&&&&&&

"Hello Knox." Wesley stepped into the lab. "Is Fred here?"

Knox shook his head. "She's having lunch up in Angel's office today. Was there something I can do for you?"

"Maybe." Wesley pulled out the picture. "Does this look familiar to you?"

"Well, I'll be," Knox rubbed his eyes and looked again. "It's the spitting image of that thing someone sent to Angel."

"That's what I was thinking," Wes replied. "Do you still have it around?"

"No," Knox admitted. "Not as of fifteen minutes ago. We couldn't find anything wrong with it so Fred took it back to Angel." He was about to add something to the remark, but found that his audience had made fast tracks out of the room. He shrugged and went back to his own lunch. PB&J.

&&&&&&&

"Bunch of wankers," Spike muttered under his breath. He'd spent the last few days working out with the ops team, and in his opinion, they all sucked. And right now, they were all decorated with a variety of cuts and bruises. Except for the one in the cast. Spike had apologized for getting carried away. He hadn't intended to break any bones. But this lot. Bunch of nancy-boys, one and all. He pulled on a t-shirt and headed out.

"Excuse me, sir," one of the faceless morons had the guts to ask. "Does this mean we're on lunch break now?"

"I'm taking a break," Spike announced. "If you useless gits had the brains of a slug, you'd be trying to figure out a way that you could manage to suck just a little less." He went out the door.

"I think he needs to have a little 'accident'," one of them remarked. There were several nods in agreement.

&&&&&&&&&

Wesley was jogging down the corridors when he ran into Spike. Literally.

"Watch where you're going, Watcher," Spike admonished, setting him upright again. "Where's the fire?"

"The talisman," Wesley panted, showing Spike the picture to cut down on having to use his limited breath to explain. "It's a listening device." He had time for one more gasp before the vampire grabbed his arm and started dragging him along at a fast trot.

Angel, Fred and Rose looked up when Spike and Wesley burst into the room. "What's going on?" Angel demanded.

Spike looked at Wesley, but the researcher was too winded to speak as yet. "That pretty little bauble you got in the mail is a bug," he replied. "Someone's interested in hearing what's going on around here."

Fred looked stricken. "We tested it for everything we could think of," she protested. "It showed to be completely inert."

"It's probably got some sort of magical shielding." Wesley had finally gotten his breath back. "You couldn't have known, Fred."

Angel's face resembled a thundercloud. He went over to his desk and picked up the talisman and snapped it in half. "Will it work now?" he asked.

Wes shook his head. "The spells are encrypted throughout the object," he explained. "Breaking it like that just broke the connections. It's useless now."

"But who would want to listen in on us?" Rose asked. The answer hit her almost as the words left her mouth. "Oh no."

"'Fraid so, pet," Spike remarked, sitting down beside her and putting his arm around her. "The same person, and I use the term loosely, that tried planting a bug on me."

"Daria McBride," Angel growled. "And if she was listening just now, then she's probably heard enough to know that Rose isn't a ghost any more."

"Should we consider moving Rose to a safe house?" Wesley asked.

Angel shook his head. "I still think she's as safe as she's going to be here," he stated. "She doesn't have to go out at all. If we moved her, she'd have to be off work until we settled this. And Daria has the resources that she could probably track her down anyway. Let's just keep Rose where we can keep an eye on her."

&&&&&&&&

Daria sucked on her sore fingers. Damn that vampire! She didn't know what he'd done to the talisman she'd sent to his office, but whatever it was had caused hers to explode in her hands. She'd still gotten some concrete information before it had happened though. The ghost was no longer a ghost, but flesh and blood human. She wondered when and how that had happened. Time enough to find that out later. But once she got her hands on Rose. She wouldn't even need Spike to torment her with now, although she had a few scores to settle with him too. Now the problem was to get her out of Wolfram and Hart, and Daria suspected that task wouldn't be as easy as luring the vampire out had been. For one thing, she suspected that the ex-ghost was better at following orders. If Angel told her to stay put, then she'd probably stay put. Then, it hit her. Of course. The one way to get them out in the open was to make them believe that the danger was past. She could do that. She would do that. It would mean a change in identity, but she'd done that before, and would probably have to do it again. But she'd get the pair of them and when she was done with them, she could probably send the remains back to Wolfram and Hart in a matchbox. But it would take time to set it all up, so best get busy.

&&&&&&

"A little painkiller, sweetheart?" Spike asked, rummaging around in the bar. It had been a trying day for all of them, but Rose looked more like a ghost now than when she'd been one. He poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it.

"All right." Rose surprised him with her answer. She'd never try anything alcoholic before. The news that Daria McBride was still actively after them had really shaken her.

Angel looked askance at Spike. Rose had hardly eaten any dinner, she wasn't used to alcohol. It would probably put her out like a light. Then again, maybe that was the idea.

Spike considered the possibilities, and settled on a glass of wine for Rose. He poured himself another shot of whiskey.

Rose took the glass from Spike and took a taste. She didn't think she'd ever like it, but it wasn't so nasty that she couldn't get it down. "When does it start working?" she asked, taking another sip.

"It depends on the person, luv," he answered, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. "You just keep nipping away at that and we'll see what happens."

"Have you told her about hangovers?" Angel asked.

"I'm not going to get her falling down drunk," Spike growled. "Just want to dull the edges a bit. She's had a rough day."

Angel refrained from pointing out that she wasn't the only one who had. Essentially, Spike was right, much though he hated to admit it. And what information they had suggested that the one person that Daria McBride was holding a grudge against was Rose. If he were in her shoes, he'd probably be shaken up too.

"Why don't you put that fancy sound system to some good use?" Spike suggested. "Something.., soothing?"

Angel took the hint, and in moments the strains of 'Moonlight Sonata' filled the room.

"That's nice," Rose murmured, snuggling against Spike's shoulder. Her glass was only half empty, but already she was looking a lot more relaxed. Or maybe it was Spike, sitting there with his arm around her, his hand reaching up to stroke her hair, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

By the time Rose had finished her wine, she was pretty much finished too. Spike carefully picked her up and started carrying her to their room. He turned and gave Angel a look which said he'd be back to talk once he got his honey all tucked in.

"What are you doing, Spike?" Rose mumbled, as Spike started undressing her.

"Getting you ready for bed, babe." She was so out of it he wasn't even sure she'd heard his reply, so he just finished the job and kissed her and crept silently out.

&&&&&

"Is she going to be all right?" Angel asked.

Spike shrugged. "How'n hell should I know?" he snapped. He closed his eyes briefly and calmed himself down. "She knows that McBride bitch hates her with a passion, and she's seen some of what she's capable of. Can you blame her for being scared?"

"Of course not," Angel replied. He sighed. "If only we could get our hands on Daria McBride."

"I'll drink to that." Spike picked up his glass and downed the contents. "Better still, if I could get my hands on the bitch. I don't think that killing someone is necessarily evil. Not when the person you're killing is evil."

"We're going to try to avoid killing anyone, if possible," Angel said, though his heart wasn't really in it. Not where Daria was concerned.

"Then what exactly do you plan to do with her once you've got her?" Spike asked impatiently. "Give her a good talking to and tell her not to do it again? Slap her hands? Make her stand in a corner?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of pulling her fangs," Angel replied. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."

"Just how do you plan to do that?" Spike inquired. "If you're thinking of your remaining boys in black, I'd suggest you forget it. Those poufs couldn't take on a pussy cat and expect to win."

"You haven't had a chance to see all the resources that Wolfram and Hart has," Angel remarked. "As a matter of fact, I haven't had the chance myself. But I think we should be able to come up with a way of neutralizing our bounty hunter without resorting to bloodshed."

"If you say so," Spike said reluctantly. "Personally speaking, I'm in favor of a bit of bloodshed now and again. Especially where that bitch is concerned."

"Do you have any idea just why Daria has it in for Rose?" Angel queried. "I mean aside from being the one who got away. Because if that were the case, you'd be number one on her hit list, having gotten away from her not once, but twice."

Spike shrugged. "Beats the hell out of me," he admitted. "I wasn't there the whole time Rose was, if you'll remember. All I know is while I was there it was pretty obvious that there was no love lost there." He got up. "This is getting us nowhere. And even if Rose is safe as houses here, I feel better when I'm where I can see her." He was halfway to the bedroom when Angel spoke.

"We're not going to let anything happen to her." A flat statement, without a hint of wishful thinking.

"Damn straight," Spike answered. He went into the bedroom, undressed and pulled his sleeping sweetie into his arms, reassuring himself that she was still alive and well and there. Then, he fell asleep too.