16

Rose looked up with a start. "W.., Spike, how did you get here?" She mentally cursed herself for almost slipping on the name. She hadn't been told, and therefore shouldn't know.

Spike made a show of leaning against the kitchen counter, and pure show it was too, without a body. But a fellow did like to keep up appearances. "Rode along with you and Angel, pet. Wanted to talk to you without an audience."

Her eyes were saucers. "You were in the car? But I didn't see you. And I don't think Angel did either, or I'm sure he would have said something."

He shrugged. "I don't have to be visible to be somewhere. And just by way of warning, don't go falling for Mr. Broody. I know a lot of women fall for the perpetual scowl and the weight of the world on his shoulders attitude, but he'd break your heart."

She bristled visibly. "I did not come to Wolfram and Hart to 'fall for' somebody," she frosted. "Besides, I'm sure that Angel is too professional to become involved with the staff." A puzzled look replaced the ticked off one. "Surely you didn't come here to tell me that, did you?"

"No." He sat at the table across from her. He nodded at her uneaten meal. "I'm sure your dinner's cool enough to eat now. Don't let me stop you."

Spike still hadn't come to the point yet, but Rose figured he probably would when he was good and ready. She really had gone right off eating the pizza, but the empty feeling in her stomach demanded something, and she didn't feel up to any more experimenting with food tonight. She cut off a tiny piece and cautiously tasted it. It was a more bearable temperature now, but the mixture of all the tastes.., it was strange, it was chaotic, it was.., good.

Spike laughed at her. "Never saw anyone eat pizza with a knife and fork before. Still to each his own, I guess. Never had it before?"

She gave him a smile that was half nerves and half response to his laughter. "It shows?"

"You've got dimples," he observed softly. "You ever wear your hair down?"

She put down her utensils and returned his gaze. He was very pretty, if you liked the type, and it surprised her to find out that she did. She gave herself a mental scolding. She wasn't here to entertain herself or allow herself to be distracted. She was just here to do a job. And here was William.., Spike, she corrected herself, making it easier for her by allowing her to interact with him and get to know him.

"Hello." Spike was waving his hand in front of her face, trying to get her attention. "You know, it's very bad for a fellow's ego when you go off on a little mental excursion like that in the middle of a conversation."

"Sorry," she apologized. "It's been a rather eventful day, I guess I've just taken in so much that my brain's on overload."

"I'll accept your apology on one condition, pet." He stood up and walked around her. "Hold still and be quiet for a minute, if you don't mind. I need to concentrate."

She wondered what he was up to, when she felt a gentle touch at the back of her head. She held still, while Spike, concentrating for all he was worth, removed the pins from her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders in silky waves.

He returned to his seat. "Much better," he said approvingly. "Very easy on the eyes. Still, I suppose you want to know what I came here about." Seeing her answering nod, he went on. "I heard you singing in Lorne's office. Where did you learn that song?"

"I don't remember," she fibbed. "It just sort of popped into my head. Is it really that important?"

Spike looked crestfallen. "I guess not," he muttered. "I was just really curious about it, that's all. Since it sounded like it could have been written about me." He looked down at the table top as if suddenly embarrassed to look at her. "Guess it really doesn't bloody well matter at all. Kind of like me." He faded from view.

"Spike, wait. Come back." Either he didn't want to be seen, or had actually gone. Rose had no way of telling. But she could still hear the pain in his voice when he had said that he didn't matter.

&&&&&&

A week later, and Rose was feeling much more comfortable with her human body and dealing with its needs. And she was also fitting quite well into her new job. But what was frustrating was that she hadn't seen Spike once since that first night when he had shown up at her apartment. There was the odd occasion when she had the feeling that she was being watched, but fear of getting a reputation for talking to herself had kept her from trying to coax him to appear. If, indeed he had actually been there. Then, there was the little matter of finding out what other people thought about Spike. It was difficult to introduce the subject without giving anything away, or worse sounding like she was infatuated with him. It was starting to dawn on her that people seldom brought up the subject unless Spike was present. Well, it wasn't as if she had a deadline, but it would be nice to be able to make some progress. Suddenly, she got that feeling again, that she wasn't alone in the room. How to draw William out now. Then, a thought occurred to her, and she started singing, just like someone would in a good mood and didn't even really realize they were doing it. "Gay is the garland and fresh are the roses, I'm picking in the garden to bind on thy brow. Oh, don't deceive me. Oh never leave me. How could you treat a poor maiden so?"

Spike appeared, with a pained expression on his face. "Could you please not sing that particular song, luv. It has a few.., painful associations for me."

Rose made a show of acting surprised. "Hello, Spike. Where have you been? I was starting to think I had offended you or something."

He immediately reverted to type. "I've been around and about. Not much of a one for staying in one place too long," he lied. He noticed she was still gazing at him with a question in her eyes. "You didn't offend me, pet. Just didn't want to wear out my welcome."

"From what I've heard about you, that hasn't been a concern of yours of late," she remarked. "Wesley says you drive Angel half-insane."

"Only half?" Spike sounded offended now. "Damn. I definitely need to try harder." He gave her a grin, and when she realized that he had been joking, she returned it. "So, what's the Watcher got you doing?"

"Checking translations against the original texts," she explained. "You wouldn't believe some of the errors that no one caught. Especially on the ones that have several translations and each one gets farther and farther from the original..," She stopped, seeing his eyes grow distant. "Oh, I guess that's kind of boring, isn't it?"

"A bit." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "See you took my advice about your hair. It's very pretty."

She blushed crimson. At least now she knew it for what it was, but she wished she didn't do it so readily.

Wesley walked in. "Rose, do you have that report for me?" Then he noticed that she wasn't alone in the room. "Oh, hello, Spike." He turned back to Rose. "He's not bothering you, is he?"

"No, he's no bother," she answered. "Here's your report, sir. I'm back five translations now, and I think there are still two or three to go."

Wesley nodded distractedly, flipping through the papers in his hands. "Yes, thank you, Rose. You're doing excellent work, keep it up." And as abruptly as he had come in, he left.

Spike made a rude gesture at Wesley's retreating back. "Once a watcher always a watcher," he muttered. "Stupid git. So, tell me, pet, what do you do when you're not translating dusty old reference books for Mr. Personality there?"

"Not much of anything, really," she admitted. Inspiration struck. "I'm kind of new in town." Well, that certainly wasn't a lie. "I really don't know my way around much."

"And you're not going to find your way around if you divide up your time between work and holing up in your apartment," Spike remarked. "Don't you ever go out at all?"

"I don't like to go out alone," Rose mumbled.

"Don't like going out among the bright lights and beautiful people all alone, but walk right through the heart of the vampire ghetto on your way home every night," he observed, sitting on her desk next to her computer terminal. "Weirder still, is that not a single vamp has scented you. By rights you ought to have been someone's dinner by now, pet."

Rose felt panicked. She didn't know what was worse, the fact that he had been watching her or what he had seen. "You've been following me home?"

"Someone's got to keep an eye on you," he muttered, seeming to be embarrassed. He straightened and looked her in the eye. "You want watching, luv. And no one else seems to be interested in the job."

"You were trying to protect me?" She found that she was touched by the futile, but considerate gesture. "I'm just a lowly research assistant. Why should you bother?"

Spike shook his head. "I'm not quite sure exactly what you are, sweetheart, but there's more to you than just being a researcher. I'm kind of interested in finding out what it is. And if you really want to know why I bother, luv, look in a mirror." He vanished again.

&&&&&&

Angel finished putting his signature on the last of what seemed to be a mile-high stack of paperwork that Harmony had dumped on his desk. God, he hated all the paperwork. It had been so much easier when he had just gone out looking for trouble and found it. Now it seemed there were a dozen different forms to fill out for every time he left his office. He got up and went to the window and just stood there for several minutes, seeing the city begin to light up as night fell, he could almost imagine he could hear the beating of all the hearts of all the people in L.A. He turned back and saw Spike, sitting in his chair. He hated that worst of all.

"What do you want, Spike?" They never bothered with polite phrases between them. They went back too far for that.

And he was tired. But when Spike started to look, if he didn't know better, he'd say embarrassed, he began to get interested.

"Wanted to ask a favor." No wonder Spike was uncomfortable. Angel knew he was the last person on the face of the earth that Spike would want to ask for a favor.

"I'm listening." Just because Angel understood didn't mean that he was going to make things any easier for Spike.

"Well, a couple of things, really," Spike elaborated. "First, can you arrange for someone to drive Rose home from work? I've been following her..," He didn't get any farther, because Angel interrupted.

"You've been following her? Or stalking her?" The pouf's face was a sight to see, and normally, Spike would have delighted in giving Angel a fit, but he had other things on his mind right now.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Spike advised. "If you were human you'd probably give yourself a stroke. Yeah, I've been following her. And every night she walks right through the most vamp-infested part of town. Still don't know why they haven't noticed her yet. But sooner or later one will. Then Wolfram and Hart will be down one research assistant. I wouldn't of asked, except..," He broke off and made a helpless gesture.

Angel's jaw dropped. "She walks through..," His brain seemed to disconnect. After a few moments, it reconnected, and he checked the time. "Probably too late tonight, unless she's working late, she's already gone."

Spike looked at Angel in disgust. "Not like you couldn't get your nancy-boy ass into one of your fancy toys and pick her up on the way." He got out of Angel's chair, which he had been sitting in only because he knew it pissed his grandsire off. "C'mon, Angel. I know which way she goes. Hasn't varied the route yet."

Angel followed Spike down to the parking garage. "Why are you so interested in her? I mean, she's not bad looking, I'll grant you, but there are plenty of attractive women on staff here, so why her in particular?"

"Later." Spike put Angel off with a pained expression on his face. "There was another part of the favor," he reminded the vampire as they got into the car.

"I can hardly wait," Angel muttered, starting the car. "Well, don't keep me in suspense, Spike. What else do you want? Gonna ask for the car keys? Might I remind you that if that's the case, you can't drive."

"That's why I'm riding shotgun." Spike was at his most flip, but the remark had rankled. "Listen, just forget it. Forget the whole bloody thing."

"No, really, I'm sorry, Spike." Angel didn't care for Spike's attitude or, pretty much everything about him, but that last observation had been hitting below the belt. As they stopped at a red light, he looked Spike in the eye. "Tell me, please."

"It's green now, Angel," Spike said unnecessarily as the car behind them started honking its horn. Spike stuck his hand through the window to flip them off, and Angel couldn't stop himself from laughing. One constant in an ever changing universe, Spike being a smart-ass.

Angel turned his attention back to the street in front of him. "What were you going to ask me, Spike?" He was really curious now.

"Left here," Spike directed. "It's not important, Angel. Not like this."

"It's important to you," Angel remarked. "Or else you wouldn't have come to me in the first place. I know that asking me for a favor doesn't come easily to you."

"Damn well doesn't," Spike agreed sulkily. "If you're really interested, I wanted.., I do want.., oh hell, I need some money."

"Money?" Angel was beyond stunned. "Did I hear you say that you wanted some money?"

"Yeah, s'right. A bit of lolly." Spike broadened out his accent. " So, what do you say, dad? Have I been a good enough boy to get my allowance?" Having got past the painful part, Spike was back in form.

"What possible use could you have for money?" Angel couldn't manage to work that one out on his own. "You don't eat, drink, or even smoke anymore. You don't need clothes or money for rent. What in the hell do you need that money can buy?"

Spike slouched down in the seat. He was starting to look embarrassed again. "Want to show a lady a good time, a night on the town. Need a bit of the green to do that." He sat up abruptly. "There she is. Pull over."

Angel steered the car to the curb just a few feet in front of Rose, but Spike didn't wait for him, opting to jump out through the door before the car had come to a full stop.

"Hello, Rose." Spike tried to be nonchalant, as if their meeting were entirely a chance encounter. "Care for a lift?"

Rose had nearly dropped the stack of books she was taking home when Spike ghosted right through the door of the moving car. She stood there with her mouth open and her heart pounding so loudly Angel heard it before he got out of the car.

"Rose?" Angel took the books from her unresisting hands. "You really shouldn't be walking around here after dark, it's way too dangerous."

"Nothing's happened to me," she said defensively. "I haven't had a bit of trouble yet."

"The operative word in that sentence is yet, luv," Spike remarked. "You have been incredibly lucky to date. But if there's one thing I've learned, never trust on the good luck to hold out. So why don't you be a good girl and let the nice man give you a ride?"

Rose looked from vampire to specter in confusion. Spike had said he'd been following her, but evidently he had thought that his protection wasn't enough. "I take it that an answer of no isn't an option?"

"Not even close," Angel agreed. He opened the front passenger door for her then handed in the books once she had gotten seated. He left Spike strictly to his own devices. And, he could sit in the back seat.

Spike had other ideas. When Angel took his place behind the wheel, there was Spike, sitting in the middle of the front seat looking immensely pleased with himself.

Once Angel had gotten back into the flow of traffic, he started talking to Rose as if Spike weren't sitting between them. "You're not taking your work home with you, are you, Rose?"

Rose flushed and clutched the books to herself. "It's not like I really have much of anything else to do," she admitted sheepishly. She shrugged. "It keeps me harmlessly occupied and out of trouble."

Angel was about to reply when a scream split the air. He slammed on the brakes and spun the car half-way up an alley. There they saw a couple of vampires apparently arguing over a human. They were practically playing tug of war with her. Angel was out of the car and running towards them at break neck speed.

"This shouldn't take long," Spike remarked, putting his arm up on the back of the seat behind Rose.

"Shouldn't we be helping or something?" Rose asked. She couldn't really see that either one of them could be of any assistance to Angel, but she felt awkward just sitting here while he ran full tilt into danger.

"For only two of them?" Spike laughed. "The pouf don't need any help for them." He leaned towards her. "You know, if it wasn't for me being so insubstantial and all, you and me could be having a bit of a canoodle right now."

"A what?" Rose had a fairly comprehensive vocabulary, but most slang went right on by her. But if she didn't know better, she could swear that the ghost of the vampire was making romantic overtures to her. "Wait a minute, if you were corporeal, wouldn't you be out there helping Angel?"

Spike flopped back in the seat with a groan. "Yeah , yeah, playing the hero and all that. Practically a conditioned reflex now, it is. But right now, I can't do damn all. Can't eat, drink , smoke or kiss a pretty girl. Or even, apparently, get it through to the girl in question that I'd like to..," He was interrupted by Angel's return. "Sodding hell. You always did have the lousiest timing, Angel."

"And you have a mouth like a sewer," Angel returned amiably. "Mind watching the language in front of a lady, Spike? You can cuss me out after we've dropped her off."

"Don't think I won't," Spike warned. "I think I've covered myself with glory enough for one night. What say I just meet you back at your digs when you get done with your little errand here?" And without waiting for Angel to reply, he was gone.

Angel shook his head, wondering what had gotten into Spike now. Well, he was sure he'd find out when he got back home. After, of course, Spike called him every name he could think of.

As Angel walked up the stairs with Rose to her apartment he decided to do something about the situation to prevent a repeat of tonight's performance.

"Listen, Rose. From now on, there'll be a company driver to take you home every night," he began. "You just saw tonight how foolish it is for an unprotected person to be walking through that neighborhood after dark."

"But..," Rose started to protest. Angel didn't let her finish.

"Consider it part of the terms of your employment," he suggested. "I don't want to wind up in the position of having to stake one of my own staff some night."

"All right," she conceded. As they got to the door of her apartment, she remembered something. "Angel, what does canoodle mean?"