"What?""What?"
"Mr?""Spike?"
"Why are you calling me-""Where's a-"
They both stopped for a moment, confusion obvious. William gave Mr. Angel a look up and down, comparing him to the pictures he'd seen. Mr. Angel did the same, recognition fleeting in his expressions.
"Wait!" William excaimed, recalling just a few seconds ago, "You're a bloody vampire!"
Mr. Angel cocked his head and gave him a funny look. "Well... yeah... so are you."
What?
"Right?" Mr. Angel finished.
For once, William had found someone else just about as confused as he was. He reveled in the moment for a few seconds until it was interrupted by a smallish girl with long brown hair.
"Yo, Peaches, what's the hold up?"
Mr. Angel turned to her, concern still etched on his face. William just stood there. He thought about leaving.
"It's Spike!" he called to her, "He's back... somehow."
The girl backed up a half-step at that declaration, and the quickly moved in on William, eying him closely.
"It is you," she said simply, "Let your hair go brown, but it's you! How'd you do it?"
"Uh, let it grow?" he pled.
Punching him in the arm, she smiled, "No, how'd you get out? I heard from B you got dusted."
Turning his face away from her slightly, he noted to himself, "Yeah, funny how you're always the last to hear..."
"Anyway, " the girl continued, throwing a thumb at the nearby car, "Hop in. We gotta show the others. Xander'll flip."
"What?" William asked, wholeheartedly, "Are you going on about, you dippy bint?"
A disgusted look crept over her face, and she turned toward him again only to back off. "Geez, no reason to get shirty! You lose your soul or somethin'?"
"Shirty?" he demanded, incredulous, "I don't even know what that is, and I'm not it."
"Wait, Faith-" Mr. Angel tried to interrupt.
"Oh, yeah?" Faith demanded, "You wanna blow off your friends, that's your business. I just thought they could do with some good news, alright?"
"You're not my sodding friends!" he exclaimed, as a thought came across him, "Or maybe you are."
She seemed to lose a bit of rage as he deflated himself. He'd completely forgotten his lack of memories. Funny, that. Mr. Angel stepped inbetween them, finally letting out complete sentences.
"Look, just calm down," he soothed, hands out, "I think I know what's going on, here."
"William works for me," a voice came from behind them.
"Exactly. William works for m-" Mr. Angel cut off as everyone else sput to look at Lilah Morgan.
"What?" Faith demanded, filling in for everyone's silence.
Smiling, she continued, "After the event in Sunnydale, William came into the employ of Wolfram and Hart, of his own volition."
"Is that true?" Mr. Angel demanded.
"Well, yeah." William shrugged.
Mr. Angel breathed in deeply for a moment, anger and confusion seeming to mix. Faith had to make do with confusion alone.
"Now if you will excuse us," Lilah soothed, "We need to debrief William on tonight's assignment."
"Uh..." William stated, more than a little interested in what Mr. Angel had to say.
With an almost baleful glare, Lilah reiterated, "You are obliged to do the job, Mr. Crawford."
Sighing, William began to make his way to the limousine.
"Spike!" Mr. Angel shouted, "William! We're not done."
Turning, a reluctant smile on his face, WIlliam answered, "No, don't think we are.
And then he was gone.
---
"Why?" he demanded, not caring if he sounded as mad as he was, "Did you do that to me?"
Lilah sat smartly in her chair and smiled. "Do what?"
"Bloody pullin' me away from those people!"
She just looked at him.
"People who know," he shouted, "Who know who I am! Maybe, just maybe, they could help with the amnesia?"
She breathed deeply, almost a sigh. "William, I'm only looking out for your best interests. We decided that, until we found a safe way to reintroduce your memories, exposing you to your past would only hurt you."
He growled a bit. He also spun in place and seethed. He didn't, however, have any idea if she was telling the truth. He was no psychologist, nor was he a lawyer. They had him by the wrinklies.
"Fine. So you say," he conceded, "But what about it, then? Why don't you blighters get up off your asses and look into fixin' my skull? It's part of the bloody deal!"
Lilah breathed again, setting an envelope in front of him. "We are making progress, William. But we have to be slow to be sure. We wouldn't want to risk your health."
"Right. What's this, then?" he demanded, picking up the envelope.
"Your next assignment."
He leaned forward and made a face as though he'd eaten an infinitely disgusting and confusiong candy. "The bloody hell you say!"
"I realize that it's a bit of an imposition-"
"You're fucking well right it is!" he exploded, throwing it to the ground, "I refuse!"
"-But you are contractually obliged to accept any assignment given you, and to execute it in wholeheartedly."
He seethed some more, his rage burying itself under carefully trimmed papers. "And what if I don't?"
She smiled, but she looked like she wanted to frown. "You really don't want to know, William."
And for just a second, she let some kind of guard down, and it was very scary because she was very scared. And then it was gone, and it was just William's boss at Wolfram and Hart again.
"Right..." he stammered, "Guess I got no choice..."
And as that creepy smile lit her face again, he shambled out the door, looking inside for his next target.
"Oh," he stopped walking, "My fuck."
---
"Spike?" she repeated, eyes wide and dumbfound.
"Yes," Xander stated sharply, "Spike. Is that a broken record in there, or are you just happy to see him?"
Buffy shook her head, trying take it all in. "No, it's just that... Well, it's a little much, you know?"
Willow did that thing with her face, eyes glowing hurt. And it was only sympathetic pain.
"I mean... he was dead," Buffy went on, looking like she might cry, "And now... where is he?"
Sighing deeply, Rupert Giles removed his glasses and began to clean them. It was only the second time they had come by Angel Investigations, the first time immediately after the... collapse. They had been travelling, collecting slayers, and they needed to reconvene with their most powerful ally.
Also, the old hotel had plenty of rooms, and they could use a bit of rest.
"Wolfram and Hart," Angel explained darkly, "He works for them, now."
Willow turned away from Buffy, whom she was hugging. "Your evil law firm?"
"..." Angel responded clearly, "Yes. My evil law firm."
"No big, then. I mean, you're like his boss, right? Just like old times," Xander joked.
"I don't think he knows who he is," Angel said suddenly.
GIles was afraid of this. Whatever had happened to Spike was obviously traumatic. "He has amnesia, then?"
Angel nodded. "Probably. I'd need to talk to him, though."
"Can't you just send a memo?" Willow asked innocently, "You know, 'everyone who is William the Bloody please come to a meeting'?"
"It's not that simple," the vampire sighed, "Lilah is apparently his direct superior, and not even I can do much bossing to her. Spike works for Wolfram and Hart, but not for me."
"That," Giles iterated, "Could be very bad."
---
"This is very bad," Wesley stated.
William nodded and took back the paper. "What I thought."
"Well," Wesley shrugged, sitting back in his office chair, "I suppose this means you know Angel is a vampire, now."
"Don't know your story, though," William glowered, "Who are you, exactly?"
"I was a watcher," he answered simply.
Wesley's eyes went up expectantly to William's. Whatever significance that was supposed to have was apparently wasted on William. Wesley seemed disappointed.
"In any case," he went on, "I left the council, and became a demon hunter for a time, until I joined up with Angel."
"Oh, then I guess I shoulda been comin' to you for pointers, then," William speculated.
"I wasn't very good at it."
William shrugged. "So you came to W&H, then."
"No," Wesley clarified, " I came to Angel. Angel Investigations. We were a motley crew of heroes led by the Vampire with a soul. We fought Wolfram and Hart tooth and nail."
At that last sentence, William gave a start and asked an obvious question with his eyes.
"What?" Wesley asked, genuinely confused.
William moved his hands around him frustratedly. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but you work for sodding Wolfram and Hart!"
"Oh, right, that. After we, ah, finally defeated them, you could say, they, well, Lilah..."
William sighed loudly.
"Long story short, they gave us the business," he concluded quickly.
William scoffed, "Right businessmen, they are. What did they take in return?"
"Our unpredictability, I expect," he pondered, "Though I suppose they think they can corrupt us this way."
And then they both remembered why William was there.
"So I can't very well kill Mr. Angel," William stated.
"No, you damn well cannot," Wesley reiterated, "And the fact that they told you to is a bit suspicious."
William shot him another Look. "What gave you that idea?"
"No, no, not that," Wesley shook his hand in a dismissal, "The assignment itself seems wrong. They aren't allowed to harm Angel, or any of us. I don't think you have to go through with it."
"So, the blighters want me to break either their contract or mine," William snarled.
Wesley thought for a moment, then answered, "Well, yes. I suppose it's either you or them. If you break your contract, they get off. But if you go through with it..."
William smiled. "Everyone gets screwed..."
---
"Angel!" Wesley excaimed, bursting into the room, "We've got a problem."
Everybody turned to the panting Englishman, waiting for him to catch his breath. It was somewhat a long wait.
"Well?" Giles asked impatiently.
Wesley took a particularly deep breath and spouted, "William, he's a demon hunter for them, and they sent him after you!"
"They can't do that!" Angel stated incredulously, "It's breaking their contract. They're very good about contracts."
Wesley shrugged excitedly, somehow. "Apparenly not! He's coming for you right now!"
Suddenly Buffy excaimed, "William? as in, Spike?"
"Who?" Wesley asked.
"But it's the middle of the day," Willow speculated, "Shouldn't that crispy fry him? Uh, again?"
"What?" Wesley asked.
Xander stood, tossing Buffy an axe. "Whatever. The important thing is we put him down, tie him up, and figure it out from there."
Buffy looked like she was going to say something for a moment, but then her expression steeled. "No mortal wounds," she called out, "We're looking to capture, not kill. Let's go with blunt instead of sharp."
Everyone nodded, loading up appropriately.
---
It had been a strange day for William Smith Crawford. At least he didn't have to worry about potentially false memories with all the commotion. Just a stake in one hand, that shotgun in the other, and a nice, corporate-sponsored license to kill.
Well, more of an onus to kill, but, hey, semantics.
Looking up at the hotel, he mentally called up the plans he had been given. If he was correct, the entrance he wanted we just about...
And he climbed the low wall, leaping onto a second story balcony. Better to get the drop from above. As he came to the door he was looking for, he could hear light footsteps coming from below. They were expecting him.
Smiling, he pushed the button on his watch, detonating the small charge he'd left near the front of the building. Bloody James Bond, he was.
---
Suddenly, there was a bang out front, and all eyes turned to the main door. Spike never was one for the subtlety, and Giles fully expected him to come crashing in throught he front door at any moment.
The surprising thing was when a door above and behind them clattered open, revealing a grinning William the Bloody.
"Boss," Spike shouted, ostensibly to Angel, "Board has a message."
And then there was a boom, and a fair chunk of Angel wasn't part of him any more.
"You're fired."
"Mr?""Spike?"
"Why are you calling me-""Where's a-"
They both stopped for a moment, confusion obvious. William gave Mr. Angel a look up and down, comparing him to the pictures he'd seen. Mr. Angel did the same, recognition fleeting in his expressions.
"Wait!" William excaimed, recalling just a few seconds ago, "You're a bloody vampire!"
Mr. Angel cocked his head and gave him a funny look. "Well... yeah... so are you."
What?
"Right?" Mr. Angel finished.
For once, William had found someone else just about as confused as he was. He reveled in the moment for a few seconds until it was interrupted by a smallish girl with long brown hair.
"Yo, Peaches, what's the hold up?"
Mr. Angel turned to her, concern still etched on his face. William just stood there. He thought about leaving.
"It's Spike!" he called to her, "He's back... somehow."
The girl backed up a half-step at that declaration, and the quickly moved in on William, eying him closely.
"It is you," she said simply, "Let your hair go brown, but it's you! How'd you do it?"
"Uh, let it grow?" he pled.
Punching him in the arm, she smiled, "No, how'd you get out? I heard from B you got dusted."
Turning his face away from her slightly, he noted to himself, "Yeah, funny how you're always the last to hear..."
"Anyway, " the girl continued, throwing a thumb at the nearby car, "Hop in. We gotta show the others. Xander'll flip."
"What?" William asked, wholeheartedly, "Are you going on about, you dippy bint?"
A disgusted look crept over her face, and she turned toward him again only to back off. "Geez, no reason to get shirty! You lose your soul or somethin'?"
"Shirty?" he demanded, incredulous, "I don't even know what that is, and I'm not it."
"Wait, Faith-" Mr. Angel tried to interrupt.
"Oh, yeah?" Faith demanded, "You wanna blow off your friends, that's your business. I just thought they could do with some good news, alright?"
"You're not my sodding friends!" he exclaimed, as a thought came across him, "Or maybe you are."
She seemed to lose a bit of rage as he deflated himself. He'd completely forgotten his lack of memories. Funny, that. Mr. Angel stepped inbetween them, finally letting out complete sentences.
"Look, just calm down," he soothed, hands out, "I think I know what's going on, here."
"William works for me," a voice came from behind them.
"Exactly. William works for m-" Mr. Angel cut off as everyone else sput to look at Lilah Morgan.
"What?" Faith demanded, filling in for everyone's silence.
Smiling, she continued, "After the event in Sunnydale, William came into the employ of Wolfram and Hart, of his own volition."
"Is that true?" Mr. Angel demanded.
"Well, yeah." William shrugged.
Mr. Angel breathed in deeply for a moment, anger and confusion seeming to mix. Faith had to make do with confusion alone.
"Now if you will excuse us," Lilah soothed, "We need to debrief William on tonight's assignment."
"Uh..." William stated, more than a little interested in what Mr. Angel had to say.
With an almost baleful glare, Lilah reiterated, "You are obliged to do the job, Mr. Crawford."
Sighing, William began to make his way to the limousine.
"Spike!" Mr. Angel shouted, "William! We're not done."
Turning, a reluctant smile on his face, WIlliam answered, "No, don't think we are.
And then he was gone.
---
"Why?" he demanded, not caring if he sounded as mad as he was, "Did you do that to me?"
Lilah sat smartly in her chair and smiled. "Do what?"
"Bloody pullin' me away from those people!"
She just looked at him.
"People who know," he shouted, "Who know who I am! Maybe, just maybe, they could help with the amnesia?"
She breathed deeply, almost a sigh. "William, I'm only looking out for your best interests. We decided that, until we found a safe way to reintroduce your memories, exposing you to your past would only hurt you."
He growled a bit. He also spun in place and seethed. He didn't, however, have any idea if she was telling the truth. He was no psychologist, nor was he a lawyer. They had him by the wrinklies.
"Fine. So you say," he conceded, "But what about it, then? Why don't you blighters get up off your asses and look into fixin' my skull? It's part of the bloody deal!"
Lilah breathed again, setting an envelope in front of him. "We are making progress, William. But we have to be slow to be sure. We wouldn't want to risk your health."
"Right. What's this, then?" he demanded, picking up the envelope.
"Your next assignment."
He leaned forward and made a face as though he'd eaten an infinitely disgusting and confusiong candy. "The bloody hell you say!"
"I realize that it's a bit of an imposition-"
"You're fucking well right it is!" he exploded, throwing it to the ground, "I refuse!"
"-But you are contractually obliged to accept any assignment given you, and to execute it in wholeheartedly."
He seethed some more, his rage burying itself under carefully trimmed papers. "And what if I don't?"
She smiled, but she looked like she wanted to frown. "You really don't want to know, William."
And for just a second, she let some kind of guard down, and it was very scary because she was very scared. And then it was gone, and it was just William's boss at Wolfram and Hart again.
"Right..." he stammered, "Guess I got no choice..."
And as that creepy smile lit her face again, he shambled out the door, looking inside for his next target.
"Oh," he stopped walking, "My fuck."
---
"Spike?" she repeated, eyes wide and dumbfound.
"Yes," Xander stated sharply, "Spike. Is that a broken record in there, or are you just happy to see him?"
Buffy shook her head, trying take it all in. "No, it's just that... Well, it's a little much, you know?"
Willow did that thing with her face, eyes glowing hurt. And it was only sympathetic pain.
"I mean... he was dead," Buffy went on, looking like she might cry, "And now... where is he?"
Sighing deeply, Rupert Giles removed his glasses and began to clean them. It was only the second time they had come by Angel Investigations, the first time immediately after the... collapse. They had been travelling, collecting slayers, and they needed to reconvene with their most powerful ally.
Also, the old hotel had plenty of rooms, and they could use a bit of rest.
"Wolfram and Hart," Angel explained darkly, "He works for them, now."
Willow turned away from Buffy, whom she was hugging. "Your evil law firm?"
"..." Angel responded clearly, "Yes. My evil law firm."
"No big, then. I mean, you're like his boss, right? Just like old times," Xander joked.
"I don't think he knows who he is," Angel said suddenly.
GIles was afraid of this. Whatever had happened to Spike was obviously traumatic. "He has amnesia, then?"
Angel nodded. "Probably. I'd need to talk to him, though."
"Can't you just send a memo?" Willow asked innocently, "You know, 'everyone who is William the Bloody please come to a meeting'?"
"It's not that simple," the vampire sighed, "Lilah is apparently his direct superior, and not even I can do much bossing to her. Spike works for Wolfram and Hart, but not for me."
"That," Giles iterated, "Could be very bad."
---
"This is very bad," Wesley stated.
William nodded and took back the paper. "What I thought."
"Well," Wesley shrugged, sitting back in his office chair, "I suppose this means you know Angel is a vampire, now."
"Don't know your story, though," William glowered, "Who are you, exactly?"
"I was a watcher," he answered simply.
Wesley's eyes went up expectantly to William's. Whatever significance that was supposed to have was apparently wasted on William. Wesley seemed disappointed.
"In any case," he went on, "I left the council, and became a demon hunter for a time, until I joined up with Angel."
"Oh, then I guess I shoulda been comin' to you for pointers, then," William speculated.
"I wasn't very good at it."
William shrugged. "So you came to W&H, then."
"No," Wesley clarified, " I came to Angel. Angel Investigations. We were a motley crew of heroes led by the Vampire with a soul. We fought Wolfram and Hart tooth and nail."
At that last sentence, William gave a start and asked an obvious question with his eyes.
"What?" Wesley asked, genuinely confused.
William moved his hands around him frustratedly. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but you work for sodding Wolfram and Hart!"
"Oh, right, that. After we, ah, finally defeated them, you could say, they, well, Lilah..."
William sighed loudly.
"Long story short, they gave us the business," he concluded quickly.
William scoffed, "Right businessmen, they are. What did they take in return?"
"Our unpredictability, I expect," he pondered, "Though I suppose they think they can corrupt us this way."
And then they both remembered why William was there.
"So I can't very well kill Mr. Angel," William stated.
"No, you damn well cannot," Wesley reiterated, "And the fact that they told you to is a bit suspicious."
William shot him another Look. "What gave you that idea?"
"No, no, not that," Wesley shook his hand in a dismissal, "The assignment itself seems wrong. They aren't allowed to harm Angel, or any of us. I don't think you have to go through with it."
"So, the blighters want me to break either their contract or mine," William snarled.
Wesley thought for a moment, then answered, "Well, yes. I suppose it's either you or them. If you break your contract, they get off. But if you go through with it..."
William smiled. "Everyone gets screwed..."
---
"Angel!" Wesley excaimed, bursting into the room, "We've got a problem."
Everybody turned to the panting Englishman, waiting for him to catch his breath. It was somewhat a long wait.
"Well?" Giles asked impatiently.
Wesley took a particularly deep breath and spouted, "William, he's a demon hunter for them, and they sent him after you!"
"They can't do that!" Angel stated incredulously, "It's breaking their contract. They're very good about contracts."
Wesley shrugged excitedly, somehow. "Apparenly not! He's coming for you right now!"
Suddenly Buffy excaimed, "William? as in, Spike?"
"Who?" Wesley asked.
"But it's the middle of the day," Willow speculated, "Shouldn't that crispy fry him? Uh, again?"
"What?" Wesley asked.
Xander stood, tossing Buffy an axe. "Whatever. The important thing is we put him down, tie him up, and figure it out from there."
Buffy looked like she was going to say something for a moment, but then her expression steeled. "No mortal wounds," she called out, "We're looking to capture, not kill. Let's go with blunt instead of sharp."
Everyone nodded, loading up appropriately.
---
It had been a strange day for William Smith Crawford. At least he didn't have to worry about potentially false memories with all the commotion. Just a stake in one hand, that shotgun in the other, and a nice, corporate-sponsored license to kill.
Well, more of an onus to kill, but, hey, semantics.
Looking up at the hotel, he mentally called up the plans he had been given. If he was correct, the entrance he wanted we just about...
And he climbed the low wall, leaping onto a second story balcony. Better to get the drop from above. As he came to the door he was looking for, he could hear light footsteps coming from below. They were expecting him.
Smiling, he pushed the button on his watch, detonating the small charge he'd left near the front of the building. Bloody James Bond, he was.
---
Suddenly, there was a bang out front, and all eyes turned to the main door. Spike never was one for the subtlety, and Giles fully expected him to come crashing in throught he front door at any moment.
The surprising thing was when a door above and behind them clattered open, revealing a grinning William the Bloody.
"Boss," Spike shouted, ostensibly to Angel, "Board has a message."
And then there was a boom, and a fair chunk of Angel wasn't part of him any more.
"You're fired."
