After Adam's defeat, the spoils of the 314 project are up for grabs. Spike & Willow find themselves at the centre of a web of intrigue.
Disclaimer: Any characters and locations from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series are the property of Mutant Enemy.
Chapter 5: An alliance is forged.
Sometime later, invitation firmly in place, Spike and Willow sat in her lounge going over the plans for the next day. Willow was to go to the site office early, brimming with enthusiasm about a data-inputting job that she had seen advertised. She would play down her experience, not difficult given that much of it had been gained illicitly, and play up her ingenuousness. Privately Spike thought that second point wouldn't be too difficult either. Once inside she, like Spike, would spend some time establishing her bona fides before getting to grips with the real work. Meeting up to check notes was going to be a problem. Spike was fairly confident that he could elude any tail that Nat placed on him, but he couldn't afford to be seen in public with Willow or even have people noticing an alteration in his habits. The campus seemed the best bet. Though uncomfortably close to Lowell House it was at least partly occupied over the summer and both Spike and Willow had legitimate reasons for being there.
Spike gave Willow a rundown of the people he had met and a description of the place. She seemed quietly confident that she could get to grips with the computer system, but one thing really bothered her - whether they would recognise her from any surveillance film that had survived Adam's wrecking spree. Spike pointed out that he would never have been let in the place if such tapes existed, but she was still uncomfortable.
Given she was already concerned about the place he thought it wise to refrain from mentioning the canteen at this stage - that sort of thing wasn't going to please her any. Besides, he was damned if he was going to let her jeopardise things by deciding to be a heroine as far as the food chain was concerned.
He really hoped she wouldn't lose her bottle overnight. What was called for was some patented Spike charm. For a split second he considered a spot of seduction, a thought his body found by no means distasteful. And why not? After all, she was developing into quite a looker and her taste in partners was certainly catholic enough to encompass his like. He turned the idea over in his mind. Whilst he didn't like to brag, he had no doubt that a session in the sack with him would leave her like putty in his hands. Unfortunately for his libido, he needed a partner with their full compliment of wits on the morrow. Instead he lightly brushed her cheek with his knuckles and said, "Willow, we can do this...you can do this, I know you can".
She held his gaze steadily, nodded and replied, "Yes, we can do it."
With the feeling of a job well done, he left her to sleep for what was left of the night and made his way back home to crash in front of the telly. But once he had settled down with a beer he found his mind wandering back to the woman he had just left. Woman.... yes, she was that now. Somewhere along the line the child had grown up, even if she sometimes didn't believe it herself. Maybe it was just that his senses were sharper after the first human blood he had tasted in nearly a year, but he found that he could recall in the most precise detail the feel of her skin, the murmur of blood just below the skin and the scent that whispered around her. He'd been too focused on the job at hand to examine the momentary flash of desire he'd felt earlier, but Christ did he want her now. Maybe the death that was to be the inevitable reward for her role in this would be a brief one - and wouldn't that piss the Slayer off something chronic? Well, in the short time she had before he ripped her throat out, at any rate. Or maybe he'd let Willow do the honour...
The thought of the redhead with her fangs in the Slayer's neck sent a bolt of pleasure straight to his groin and rendered his, admittedly snug, jeans far too tight. Holding the picture in his mind he reached down and released himself, running fingers over the ice-cold flesh with increasing momentum.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Spike nearly leapt out of his hyper-sensitised skin as the soft English voice cut through the haze of his desire.
"What the fuck..."
"An appropriate, if unoriginal, expletive - given the circumstances"
The Suit stood there, as unperturbed as he would have been had he interrupted a room full of little old ladies taking afternoon tea, rather than a horny vampire taking his solitary pleasure.
Spike tucked himself away and rose to his feet with as much aplomb as he could summon in the circumstances. What he wouldn't give to put a dent into that exquisitely tailored armour. He looked down at the palm that had so recently been engaged in more pleasurable activities and then up at the man in front of him.
"I won't offer to shake hands"
This was rewarded with a faint flicker of repulsion from Radburn. Not much, but it was there and Spike filed it away along with all the other minute observations that had extended his often precarious existence all these years. When this had become instinctive, like long abandoned breathing, he couldn't recall but in its way it was as necessary as that old acquaintance.
As the silence began to stretch thin between them, Spike figured that he'd better at least appear to play the game. He wiped his hand on the leg of his jeans and enquired, "So, to what do I owe the honour of this visit?"
"I have some information you might find valuable. A dossier we have compiled about your new employer"
"And you didn't think it I should see it before I walked into that nest of vipers?"
"No."
Spike was momentarily taken aback by the bluntness of this statement, then drawled, "It truly warms the cockles of my heart to know how much you care about your employees." Sadly, it seemed that his irony was wasted.
"Useful though you may be, you will only receive information as and when we deem it necessary and appropriate. Use it prudently and it will help you. Pass it on and we will eliminate you."
"Well gee, thanks."
Spike took the manila folder and turned away, meaning to ignore the Suit until he left of his own accord. But a name, dropped into the silence, had him whirling back.
"Willow Rosenburg."
Not knowing where this would lead, he tried for neutrality: "What of her?"
"We approve your choice of allies, but would prefer that she remain undamaged if at all possible."
"Why?"
"Let us just say that we have had our eye on that particular young lady for some time and would not like a potential asset to be unnecessarily compromised."
With that, the Suit turned on his heel and departed, leaving Spike to his warm beer and cooled ardour.
Disclaimer: Any characters and locations from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series are the property of Mutant Enemy.
Chapter 5: An alliance is forged.
Sometime later, invitation firmly in place, Spike and Willow sat in her lounge going over the plans for the next day. Willow was to go to the site office early, brimming with enthusiasm about a data-inputting job that she had seen advertised. She would play down her experience, not difficult given that much of it had been gained illicitly, and play up her ingenuousness. Privately Spike thought that second point wouldn't be too difficult either. Once inside she, like Spike, would spend some time establishing her bona fides before getting to grips with the real work. Meeting up to check notes was going to be a problem. Spike was fairly confident that he could elude any tail that Nat placed on him, but he couldn't afford to be seen in public with Willow or even have people noticing an alteration in his habits. The campus seemed the best bet. Though uncomfortably close to Lowell House it was at least partly occupied over the summer and both Spike and Willow had legitimate reasons for being there.
Spike gave Willow a rundown of the people he had met and a description of the place. She seemed quietly confident that she could get to grips with the computer system, but one thing really bothered her - whether they would recognise her from any surveillance film that had survived Adam's wrecking spree. Spike pointed out that he would never have been let in the place if such tapes existed, but she was still uncomfortable.
Given she was already concerned about the place he thought it wise to refrain from mentioning the canteen at this stage - that sort of thing wasn't going to please her any. Besides, he was damned if he was going to let her jeopardise things by deciding to be a heroine as far as the food chain was concerned.
He really hoped she wouldn't lose her bottle overnight. What was called for was some patented Spike charm. For a split second he considered a spot of seduction, a thought his body found by no means distasteful. And why not? After all, she was developing into quite a looker and her taste in partners was certainly catholic enough to encompass his like. He turned the idea over in his mind. Whilst he didn't like to brag, he had no doubt that a session in the sack with him would leave her like putty in his hands. Unfortunately for his libido, he needed a partner with their full compliment of wits on the morrow. Instead he lightly brushed her cheek with his knuckles and said, "Willow, we can do this...you can do this, I know you can".
She held his gaze steadily, nodded and replied, "Yes, we can do it."
With the feeling of a job well done, he left her to sleep for what was left of the night and made his way back home to crash in front of the telly. But once he had settled down with a beer he found his mind wandering back to the woman he had just left. Woman.... yes, she was that now. Somewhere along the line the child had grown up, even if she sometimes didn't believe it herself. Maybe it was just that his senses were sharper after the first human blood he had tasted in nearly a year, but he found that he could recall in the most precise detail the feel of her skin, the murmur of blood just below the skin and the scent that whispered around her. He'd been too focused on the job at hand to examine the momentary flash of desire he'd felt earlier, but Christ did he want her now. Maybe the death that was to be the inevitable reward for her role in this would be a brief one - and wouldn't that piss the Slayer off something chronic? Well, in the short time she had before he ripped her throat out, at any rate. Or maybe he'd let Willow do the honour...
The thought of the redhead with her fangs in the Slayer's neck sent a bolt of pleasure straight to his groin and rendered his, admittedly snug, jeans far too tight. Holding the picture in his mind he reached down and released himself, running fingers over the ice-cold flesh with increasing momentum.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Spike nearly leapt out of his hyper-sensitised skin as the soft English voice cut through the haze of his desire.
"What the fuck..."
"An appropriate, if unoriginal, expletive - given the circumstances"
The Suit stood there, as unperturbed as he would have been had he interrupted a room full of little old ladies taking afternoon tea, rather than a horny vampire taking his solitary pleasure.
Spike tucked himself away and rose to his feet with as much aplomb as he could summon in the circumstances. What he wouldn't give to put a dent into that exquisitely tailored armour. He looked down at the palm that had so recently been engaged in more pleasurable activities and then up at the man in front of him.
"I won't offer to shake hands"
This was rewarded with a faint flicker of repulsion from Radburn. Not much, but it was there and Spike filed it away along with all the other minute observations that had extended his often precarious existence all these years. When this had become instinctive, like long abandoned breathing, he couldn't recall but in its way it was as necessary as that old acquaintance.
As the silence began to stretch thin between them, Spike figured that he'd better at least appear to play the game. He wiped his hand on the leg of his jeans and enquired, "So, to what do I owe the honour of this visit?"
"I have some information you might find valuable. A dossier we have compiled about your new employer"
"And you didn't think it I should see it before I walked into that nest of vipers?"
"No."
Spike was momentarily taken aback by the bluntness of this statement, then drawled, "It truly warms the cockles of my heart to know how much you care about your employees." Sadly, it seemed that his irony was wasted.
"Useful though you may be, you will only receive information as and when we deem it necessary and appropriate. Use it prudently and it will help you. Pass it on and we will eliminate you."
"Well gee, thanks."
Spike took the manila folder and turned away, meaning to ignore the Suit until he left of his own accord. But a name, dropped into the silence, had him whirling back.
"Willow Rosenburg."
Not knowing where this would lead, he tried for neutrality: "What of her?"
"We approve your choice of allies, but would prefer that she remain undamaged if at all possible."
"Why?"
"Let us just say that we have had our eye on that particular young lady for some time and would not like a potential asset to be unnecessarily compromised."
With that, the Suit turned on his heel and departed, leaving Spike to his warm beer and cooled ardour.
