AN: This was originally intended to be a one-shot fic, but I decided to
carry on for some reason. Sorry if the geography of Wolfram and Hart isn't
accurate, I don't know what it looks like.
Spoilers now pinpointed as up to The Cautionary tale of Numero Cinquo.
Angel dropped the letter and it fluttered to the floor. He stood slowly and walked to the door. Opening it, he discovered that "someone broke the window" was an understatement. It had been removed from its frame, and sunlight flooded the hallway. He went back inside and regarded the intercom.
"Okay, I don't like you and you don't like me. But just this once, do what I want," he said and pressed a button. Lilah's voice sounded.
"Angel. Have fun."
"Damn," he muttered, turning it off. He considered for a moment.
"Spike? Spike!"
"That's new. Now you want me to be here?" He sighed and turned to look at his smirking rival.
"I don't suppose you've seen brunette, probably wearing a turtle-neck or a scarf and a teenager in need of a haircut? The woman'll smell of sulphur or. guess not. Get everyone in here."
"I don't take messages, Peaches. Why's all the glass missin'?"
"Just get them Spike." He raised an eyebrow and Angel sighed. "I think I've been poisoned, don't tell anyone else."
"You mean there are actually people out there who want you dead? Who'd have thought it?" There was a long pause, then Spike turned and walked through the wall.
Scene Change
"This is him? What's he going to do. actually, I can't even think of a way to finish that sentence," Gwen said mockingly. "There isn't enough of him to make a good distraction." Though actually his blank stare and expressionless face were starting to scare her. He spoke and suddenly he sounded as though he was about to break into laughter, eyes feverish.
"I'm supernaturally strong, fast, I can jump off skyscrapers without getting hurt, I can smell what perfume you're wearing, and I heal like you wouldn't believe."
"Oh right. Do metal claws come out of your hands, too?"
Connor grinned and answered,
"No, but I did used to know some blue-skinned shape-changers." Lilah looked up.
"You got a movie reference? I would've thought attempted kidnap would put off them," she said, then cursed herself inwardly as she realised what she'd admitted to.
"My not-sister had it on DVD."
"You were supposed to forget all that."
"I am doing. But the spell wasn't as good as he thought."
"Uh hey?" Gwen said. "What are you talking about?" Connor stepped closer to her, loss filling his voice.
"There was a woman and she wasn't her, but there was a child and.and when he was finished, she wasn't worth. it wasn't worth it. None of it. I thought I'd lost everything, but I- I was wrong, I had, nothing, but I was and then I wasn't and if I-" he stepped closer to her unconsciously, clenching his hands, sounding like he was holding onto the statement as a lifeline, "if I can just get one thing." he chuckled and jumped back smoothly, the same strange glee returning. "I'm sure no matter how much Lilah's paying you, it's not enough to have to listen to a love-sick teenager tell you about his relationship problems.
"Speaking of which," Lilah interrupted, "we're also not paying you to stand around. You have something to steal. The plane's just outside."
"You're not coming?" Connor asked.
"We don't have to do everything the hard way," Lilah replied. "There's a sorcerer we've agreed to represent in exchange for his services if he gets off. Wolfram and Hart dropped him as a client after guess who got in charge. You can deal with it on your own, right?"
"Yeah, somehow I don't think a bunch of monks without any reason for existing will be too much of a challenge."
"Then what am I for?" asked Gwen, feeling slightly insulted. Lilah looked over at her scornfully. By now Gwen was considering ditching the job by this time and looking for someone else to help her get a LISA that wouldn't break down sporadically. The way one of them seemed to look right past her half the time, and see right through her the other half, while Miss. Morgan adopted a seen-it-all-before look was somewhat off-putting. She was usually able to frighten her clients with her knowledge of the unknown, but the casual way they talked about it was creepy.
"Just in case anything goes wrong," Lilah said.
Scene Change
"So what you're saying is you've been poisoned, but you won't tell us what with, why, or who by, and you won't allow us to try and deal with it," Wesley said. "Just to get this clear."
"That's about it," Angel replied.
"Angel if you just tell us what you've been poisoned with, then we may be able to find a way to cure it," offered Fred.
"I know how to cure it. We're not going down that road."
"Don't be bloody stupid," Spike said. "I've read the little note they left you, Angel. Didn't get what most of it was on a bout, but you know and I know that all it takes is one phone call."
"Angel, once you're dead, we have no reason to suppose that Wolfram and Hart will have any use for the rest of us. Except Gunn. And the chance of any of us surviving the change in management, even him, are rather small," Wesley pointed out.
"We all have to die eventually. When we signed up for this, we knew what risks we were taking-"
"As a matter of fact, I don't remember signing anything. Well, except the collection for the retirement gift for Stevens that went by last week. Executive decision," Wesley pressed.
"All right. You didn't sign up for this. If anyone wants to get a head start, you can go now," Angel announced. No one moved.
"Good. Last time I got poisoned by this it took a few hours to kick in, and then it was injected right into the bloodstream. This time I drank it, and I didn't drink very much. We should have about twenty-four hours before I'm off my feet. So," Angel continued, " I'm thinking we make some radical reforms. Interdimensional slavery rings that were too powerful to mess with, demons like Sebassis, they're fair game now. Mount up and let's go."
They nodded or smiled grimly, left to go, and then Angel asked,
"Could someone get me an umbrella? I'm a little stuck in here."
Several minutes later, Spike was pacing back and forth in front of a phone. Fred slipped in.
"We're pretty much ready to go," she said. "I know what with the being intangible and all you're not that much use in a fight, but I just thought that you might like to y'know, watch some violence or something."
"I can't pick up this phone," Spike said abruptly. "I keep trying, but my hand goes through.
"You're calling Buffy?"
"The poison's called Killer of the Dead. Slayer blood cures it. If Buffy hears about this she'll be over here before you can blink to do the martyr act. She has before. I wanted to call her. When I first came back. But I didn't," he shook his head, "This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She wasn't meant to come here for Angel, she wasn't supposed to see me like this."
"You look fine to me. I mean, maybe I'm not an expert on it, what with the lab, and Pylea and the years of solitude and all, and that is definitely not what you meant."
"Guess I'd better get on with it before I come up with another excuse not to."
"You'd doing a good thing for him," Fred said. Spike laughed.
"It's nothing to do with him. Even if I had a body you think I'd stand a chance with Buffy if she knew I'd let the pouf die when she could've saved him? Time to bite the bleedin' bullet," Spike said and almost convinced himself, and managed to pick up the phone. Suddenly Fred screamed, and a delicate hand grabbed Spike's wrist. He managed to say "Da-" before he was tossed through the wall. The figure stepped through after him. Spike stared at her and shook his head slowly, finding himself unable to say or think anything beyond one word
"Impossible."
"Oh really William, a hundred and twenty years as a vampire and you haven't learnt a thing," Darla drawled. "Not that Angel's much better."
"So that's the game now? You can't get Angelus back so you're going to kill him?" She sighed, stretching leather-clad shoulders.
"It's not about Angel. Not this time."
"Ho many times have you done this? Don't you ever bloody die?"
Darla laughed softly. "All the time. But you know how it is with vampires like us. Hell chews us up and spits us right back out. And it's a long story, William."
"It's Spike now."
"Is it still? You're certainly not the bedraggled and bloodthirsty little thing Dru dragged home on night anymore, now are you William? You've got a soul."
"Peaches wasn't happy."
"You're dealing well. My dear boy moaned for a hundred years before getting over it. Have you never thought about what it means, William?" Her voice grew more impassioned. "At least one a night, for a hundred years? You must have killed more than forty thousand people, Spike. Do you understand that?"
"Vampires like us.?" he whispered. "Tell me you are sodding joking!" he shouted.
"It would be kind of funny if it was me that became human, wouldn't it? After all, I am mentioned in prophecy."
"If you've got a soul, then why kill Angel? I'm guessin' you were behind that?"
"You think this is easy for me, Spike?" she snapped. "You think I wanted to be stuck like this? I accepted my death, I chose it, and then I was dragged back to watch everything I died for be destroyed! And now I have to be part of this. For him."
"For who?" Spike scoffed. "Leave it out Darla, self-sacrifice doesn't suit you."
"Ah, now I know why I don't stake you the moment I saw you. Comic relief."
"What's that meant to mean?"
"I'm not a Bond villain, Spike. You want to know what's going on, work it out for yourself."
"Or I could just beat it out of you," he threatened.
"Another thing I regret," Darla snapped, " is that I let Angelus beat you to a pulp instead of doing it myself."
"Oh you really think you could, do you?"
"A couple of years ago? Yeah. But right now, no. You could say what binds me here is still a little damaged. I'm not exactly at full strength, even for a spirit." Spike cocked his head curiously.
"Still? You were weaker earlier?" he probed.
"I used to only appear in dreams," she admitted. "And even then, they really did have to want so much to see me again."
"How can do that?" Spike asked, interested in knowing what he was capable of.
"Let's just say I'm a bit more experienced than you," Darla said smugly.
"We all know how experienced you are, Darla," Spike sniped.
"No Spike, you just wanted to know. Remember?" Darla retorted.
"Time to get this started, Darla," Spike said, and squared his shoulders, bracing for a fight.
"It began months ago. And it has nothing to do with you." She disappeared as though she'd never been.
I have mock GCSE's coming up, so there will probably be a few weeks before the next update. This means that I need a lot of reviews to keep me going, so pleasepleaseplease review.
Angel dropped the letter and it fluttered to the floor. He stood slowly and walked to the door. Opening it, he discovered that "someone broke the window" was an understatement. It had been removed from its frame, and sunlight flooded the hallway. He went back inside and regarded the intercom.
"Okay, I don't like you and you don't like me. But just this once, do what I want," he said and pressed a button. Lilah's voice sounded.
"Angel. Have fun."
"Damn," he muttered, turning it off. He considered for a moment.
"Spike? Spike!"
"That's new. Now you want me to be here?" He sighed and turned to look at his smirking rival.
"I don't suppose you've seen brunette, probably wearing a turtle-neck or a scarf and a teenager in need of a haircut? The woman'll smell of sulphur or. guess not. Get everyone in here."
"I don't take messages, Peaches. Why's all the glass missin'?"
"Just get them Spike." He raised an eyebrow and Angel sighed. "I think I've been poisoned, don't tell anyone else."
"You mean there are actually people out there who want you dead? Who'd have thought it?" There was a long pause, then Spike turned and walked through the wall.
Scene Change
"This is him? What's he going to do. actually, I can't even think of a way to finish that sentence," Gwen said mockingly. "There isn't enough of him to make a good distraction." Though actually his blank stare and expressionless face were starting to scare her. He spoke and suddenly he sounded as though he was about to break into laughter, eyes feverish.
"I'm supernaturally strong, fast, I can jump off skyscrapers without getting hurt, I can smell what perfume you're wearing, and I heal like you wouldn't believe."
"Oh right. Do metal claws come out of your hands, too?"
Connor grinned and answered,
"No, but I did used to know some blue-skinned shape-changers." Lilah looked up.
"You got a movie reference? I would've thought attempted kidnap would put off them," she said, then cursed herself inwardly as she realised what she'd admitted to.
"My not-sister had it on DVD."
"You were supposed to forget all that."
"I am doing. But the spell wasn't as good as he thought."
"Uh hey?" Gwen said. "What are you talking about?" Connor stepped closer to her, loss filling his voice.
"There was a woman and she wasn't her, but there was a child and.and when he was finished, she wasn't worth. it wasn't worth it. None of it. I thought I'd lost everything, but I- I was wrong, I had, nothing, but I was and then I wasn't and if I-" he stepped closer to her unconsciously, clenching his hands, sounding like he was holding onto the statement as a lifeline, "if I can just get one thing." he chuckled and jumped back smoothly, the same strange glee returning. "I'm sure no matter how much Lilah's paying you, it's not enough to have to listen to a love-sick teenager tell you about his relationship problems.
"Speaking of which," Lilah interrupted, "we're also not paying you to stand around. You have something to steal. The plane's just outside."
"You're not coming?" Connor asked.
"We don't have to do everything the hard way," Lilah replied. "There's a sorcerer we've agreed to represent in exchange for his services if he gets off. Wolfram and Hart dropped him as a client after guess who got in charge. You can deal with it on your own, right?"
"Yeah, somehow I don't think a bunch of monks without any reason for existing will be too much of a challenge."
"Then what am I for?" asked Gwen, feeling slightly insulted. Lilah looked over at her scornfully. By now Gwen was considering ditching the job by this time and looking for someone else to help her get a LISA that wouldn't break down sporadically. The way one of them seemed to look right past her half the time, and see right through her the other half, while Miss. Morgan adopted a seen-it-all-before look was somewhat off-putting. She was usually able to frighten her clients with her knowledge of the unknown, but the casual way they talked about it was creepy.
"Just in case anything goes wrong," Lilah said.
Scene Change
"So what you're saying is you've been poisoned, but you won't tell us what with, why, or who by, and you won't allow us to try and deal with it," Wesley said. "Just to get this clear."
"That's about it," Angel replied.
"Angel if you just tell us what you've been poisoned with, then we may be able to find a way to cure it," offered Fred.
"I know how to cure it. We're not going down that road."
"Don't be bloody stupid," Spike said. "I've read the little note they left you, Angel. Didn't get what most of it was on a bout, but you know and I know that all it takes is one phone call."
"Angel, once you're dead, we have no reason to suppose that Wolfram and Hart will have any use for the rest of us. Except Gunn. And the chance of any of us surviving the change in management, even him, are rather small," Wesley pointed out.
"We all have to die eventually. When we signed up for this, we knew what risks we were taking-"
"As a matter of fact, I don't remember signing anything. Well, except the collection for the retirement gift for Stevens that went by last week. Executive decision," Wesley pressed.
"All right. You didn't sign up for this. If anyone wants to get a head start, you can go now," Angel announced. No one moved.
"Good. Last time I got poisoned by this it took a few hours to kick in, and then it was injected right into the bloodstream. This time I drank it, and I didn't drink very much. We should have about twenty-four hours before I'm off my feet. So," Angel continued, " I'm thinking we make some radical reforms. Interdimensional slavery rings that were too powerful to mess with, demons like Sebassis, they're fair game now. Mount up and let's go."
They nodded or smiled grimly, left to go, and then Angel asked,
"Could someone get me an umbrella? I'm a little stuck in here."
Several minutes later, Spike was pacing back and forth in front of a phone. Fred slipped in.
"We're pretty much ready to go," she said. "I know what with the being intangible and all you're not that much use in a fight, but I just thought that you might like to y'know, watch some violence or something."
"I can't pick up this phone," Spike said abruptly. "I keep trying, but my hand goes through.
"You're calling Buffy?"
"The poison's called Killer of the Dead. Slayer blood cures it. If Buffy hears about this she'll be over here before you can blink to do the martyr act. She has before. I wanted to call her. When I first came back. But I didn't," he shook his head, "This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She wasn't meant to come here for Angel, she wasn't supposed to see me like this."
"You look fine to me. I mean, maybe I'm not an expert on it, what with the lab, and Pylea and the years of solitude and all, and that is definitely not what you meant."
"Guess I'd better get on with it before I come up with another excuse not to."
"You'd doing a good thing for him," Fred said. Spike laughed.
"It's nothing to do with him. Even if I had a body you think I'd stand a chance with Buffy if she knew I'd let the pouf die when she could've saved him? Time to bite the bleedin' bullet," Spike said and almost convinced himself, and managed to pick up the phone. Suddenly Fred screamed, and a delicate hand grabbed Spike's wrist. He managed to say "Da-" before he was tossed through the wall. The figure stepped through after him. Spike stared at her and shook his head slowly, finding himself unable to say or think anything beyond one word
"Impossible."
"Oh really William, a hundred and twenty years as a vampire and you haven't learnt a thing," Darla drawled. "Not that Angel's much better."
"So that's the game now? You can't get Angelus back so you're going to kill him?" She sighed, stretching leather-clad shoulders.
"It's not about Angel. Not this time."
"Ho many times have you done this? Don't you ever bloody die?"
Darla laughed softly. "All the time. But you know how it is with vampires like us. Hell chews us up and spits us right back out. And it's a long story, William."
"It's Spike now."
"Is it still? You're certainly not the bedraggled and bloodthirsty little thing Dru dragged home on night anymore, now are you William? You've got a soul."
"Peaches wasn't happy."
"You're dealing well. My dear boy moaned for a hundred years before getting over it. Have you never thought about what it means, William?" Her voice grew more impassioned. "At least one a night, for a hundred years? You must have killed more than forty thousand people, Spike. Do you understand that?"
"Vampires like us.?" he whispered. "Tell me you are sodding joking!" he shouted.
"It would be kind of funny if it was me that became human, wouldn't it? After all, I am mentioned in prophecy."
"If you've got a soul, then why kill Angel? I'm guessin' you were behind that?"
"You think this is easy for me, Spike?" she snapped. "You think I wanted to be stuck like this? I accepted my death, I chose it, and then I was dragged back to watch everything I died for be destroyed! And now I have to be part of this. For him."
"For who?" Spike scoffed. "Leave it out Darla, self-sacrifice doesn't suit you."
"Ah, now I know why I don't stake you the moment I saw you. Comic relief."
"What's that meant to mean?"
"I'm not a Bond villain, Spike. You want to know what's going on, work it out for yourself."
"Or I could just beat it out of you," he threatened.
"Another thing I regret," Darla snapped, " is that I let Angelus beat you to a pulp instead of doing it myself."
"Oh you really think you could, do you?"
"A couple of years ago? Yeah. But right now, no. You could say what binds me here is still a little damaged. I'm not exactly at full strength, even for a spirit." Spike cocked his head curiously.
"Still? You were weaker earlier?" he probed.
"I used to only appear in dreams," she admitted. "And even then, they really did have to want so much to see me again."
"How can do that?" Spike asked, interested in knowing what he was capable of.
"Let's just say I'm a bit more experienced than you," Darla said smugly.
"We all know how experienced you are, Darla," Spike sniped.
"No Spike, you just wanted to know. Remember?" Darla retorted.
"Time to get this started, Darla," Spike said, and squared his shoulders, bracing for a fight.
"It began months ago. And it has nothing to do with you." She disappeared as though she'd never been.
I have mock GCSE's coming up, so there will probably be a few weeks before the next update. This means that I need a lot of reviews to keep me going, so pleasepleaseplease review.