TITLE:
Darkest Before Dawn 28 "The Annual Review"
AUTHOR: Nmissi
PART:28/?
DISCLAIMER: I own Nothing and No one.
Especially not Spike. If I did,
what makes you think I'd share him with you?
DISTRIBUTION: Want it? Take it. Just let me know where it's going.
Feedback:
Please. Nmissi@aol.com
SUMMARY: The way the world would work if I wrote the Buffyverse.
NOTE:
I love Spike. I adore Spike. I do not hate Him. I am a redemptionista and a B/S Shipper. I am Not David Fury. Hate mail will be used
to line catboxes.
There were eleven beings seated around a long rosewood
table inside the law offices of Wolfram and Hart. A twelfth seat stood empty,
the gap as noticeable in the room as an absent tooth in an otherwise beautiful
smile.
A tall man headed the table, visibly nonhuman only by the
color of his skin, a high-toned greenish grey. He wore an expensive three-piece
suit, and an emerald signet ring.
He looked over the remainder of the assemblage, before
calling the meeting to order.
"Thank you for joining me here today."
He turned his head, addressing a small brunette woman
behind him.
"Would you please read the minutes of the last board
meeting, Ms. Smith."
She did so, then retired to the back of the room to take
notes for the duration of the meeting.
"Firstly, I would like to congratulate us all on a very
successful year. If you'll please take up the briefing before you,"
At this, the room's occupants collected leatherbound
folios from the table, and opened them. The sounds of turning pages filled the
room. Then the leader continued.
"You'll see this has been a very profitable period for
the the Firm. Gross profits are up 27%, across the board. We've increased our
holdings by 20%, and turnover is at a record low. All told, the new millennium is shaping up to be one of
our best."
"There is a proposal on the table, you've all had ample
time to acquaint yourselves with its particulars. We will now vote on it."
He dropped something into a gold urn, and then passed it
to his left. It circled the room, the metal clink announcing that a vote had
been cast each time it changed hands. Finally it returned to the table's head,
and he reached into his pocket, and made to cast a second vote.
"As Aurelius' proxy, I cast this vote in his name."
Before he could let go of the stone, he was interrupted.
"Actually, N'aoth, I don't think you should do that."
The speaker was a small woman, with fine features and
long fingers. Her unearthly beauty proclaimed her race as Fae.
She rose, and the leader addressed her.
"Speak your piece, Maab."
His voice was pleasant, but his eyes were cold.
"It has come to my attention that the line of Aurelius
has NOT been expunged, as we'd previously been informed."
She swept her luminous green eyes across the assemblage.
"In fact, there are numerous heirs to that bloodline."
The lone vampire at the table curled his elegant hands
into fists.
"Pray continue, Lady Maab."
She smiled at him with gentle remonstrance.
"Vlad, I should think you'd be very pleased to hear about
your cousins! Now, I have here with me the name and whereabouts of the eldest
of Aurelius' lineage. He is called Angel, and he resides right her in the City
of Angels, not ten blocks from this very building."
She shook out hair that swept her ankles, as she went on.
"I also list several of his descendants in this very
state. Drusilla the Mad, William the Bloody, Darla –"
Vlad cut her off.
"That's impossible. He staked Darla three years ago. And
she was his SIRE. Surely if she lives, the seat is hers by right of birth."
"You were aware of this descendant, Vlad?"
She turned amused, twinkling eyes on him.
His wallachian accent was thick upon his words.
"I thought him dead these three years, woman. Angelus
heads the rolls in Hell."
"And yet he rolls heads in L.A." she quipped.
Then she added.
"But I was not finished. Darla the reborn, sired out of
Drusilla's blood."
She looked over the blue notepad in her hand.
"There is also a newborn named Harmony," she added.
She sank gracefully back into her seat, waiting for the
Senior Partners to digest her information.
"Are you certain of your information, Maab?" questioned
N'aoth.
She nodded with a sly smile.
"Utterly certain, gentlemen. But in case there were any
doubts,"
She gestured towards the heavy wooden doors, as they
opened.
A pretty blonde girl entered the room, garbed in Gucci
shoes and a stylish black dress.
"This is Harmony. Harmony, make your curtsey to the
gentlemen."
The girl bobbed an awkward bow, and the fairy queen
winced.
"Scent her, Vlad. You'll know her bloodline, I'm sure."