22

Rose leaned back against the door to the apartment, face aflame. Apparently she hadn't known better, Spike had been making overtures. This would never do, she wasn't here to have a romantic encounter. And surely it would be lacking in ethics to become attached to the one she had come here to study. Her thoughts drifted back to those few moments in the car, till she could practically hear his voice again, the tones both wheedling and wistful. She couldn't suppress a little glow. He really did like her.

&&&&&&

Angel strode into his apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. "Spike!" He took off his suit jacket and threw it across a chair, then looked around. No sign of Spike. "Dammit, Spike, you said you'd be here," Angel growled to the empty rooms. "Just one time it would be nice..,"

"What are you carrying on about now?" Spike appeared, negligently draped across Angel's favorite chair.

Angel glared at him. "I wish you had a body," he said out of the blue. "Just for ten minutes, I really wish you had a body." Seeing that Spike was about to jump in, with a smart-ass remark, no doubt, he added, "so I could beat the crap out of you."

"You, beat the crap outta me?" Spike hooted. "That'll be the day." Then, his curiosity got the better of him. "What for?"

Angel flung himself tiredly down on the sofa. "For giving me what had to be just about the most embarrassing five minutes that I've had in the last century," he explained. He gave Spike a long, thoughtful look, then, surprisingly, burst out laughing. "Canoodle?"

Spike put a hand over his eyes. Was there any way it could possibly get worse? "Nice to see that I could provide a little comic relief," he sulked. "Oh, and by the way, I love the mood swings. You got PMS?"

Angel tried to sober up, almost made it, then went off on another laughing jag. When he finally wound down, he was wiping tears out of his eyes. "Damn, I don't think I've laughed that hard since..,"

"Forever," Spike broke in. He really wanted to put these past few moments behind him. "So, you're here, I'm here," he stated unnecessarily. "Am I gonna get what I asked for?"

Angel got all thoughtful again. "I think you owe me a story, first," he reflected. "At the time, you said, 'later'. Well, it's later now."

Spike sat up. "I take it you're going to insist before relinquishing custody of any pretty little bits of paper?"

"Something like that," Angel conceded. "When was the last time you got so protective with someone? Dawn, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, the Bit's like me own sister," Spike agreed.

"But you're not feeling brotherly towards Rose," the dark-haired vamp pointed out.

"I can't explain it," Spike confessed. "But from day one I've just felt, drawn to her. Ever since I heard her sing."

"She must be one hell of a singer," Angel commented.

"It wasn't how she sang," Spike elaborated. "Though she does have a pretty voice. It was what she sang. I never heard the song before, but..," He broke off, not sure how to go on.

"But what?" Angel sat up. This was getting interesting.

"Sounds crazy," Spike replied. "But it sounded like it was about a disembodied soul. Like it was about..,"

"You," Angel interrupted. "I'll be damned."

"That makes two of us," the peroxide blonde quipped. "So, are you gonna blow the dust off your wallet, or what?"

"Look, Spike, the money isn't a problem." Angel sighed. "First off, how are the two of you going to get around? You can't drive, and she doesn't even have a license."

"She doesn't?" Spike's eyebrows shot up. "How do you know?"

"It's in her personnel file," Angel explained. "Then there's the matter of how you're going to hang on to the money if I give it to you. Put it in your pocket?"

Spike winced. He'd kind of forgotten that his clothes were as insubstantial as he was. "Balls."

"Last but not least," Angel pressed on. "What exactly are you planning on doing? Watch her eat, drink, dance with other guys? Sounds like a fun night."

"I'd like to take her dancing," Spike said wistfully. "She'd make a cozy little armful. But she needs to get out, Angel. You saw her tonight. Carrying home a pile of books to do more research for the Watcher. You been in her place yet?"

"No," Angel admitted. "I just drop her off at the door. That reminds me." He grabbed a piece of paper and pen and began jotting something down. When he finished, he saw Spike giving him a quizzical look. "Just a reminder to myself to assign her a driver," he explained. Then it sank in. "You've been in her apartment?"

"First night you took her home." Spike leaned back and put his feet on the coffee table, just to watch Angel wince. "There is absolutely nothing of her there, Angel. The furniture looks like it's been there long enough to grow roots. No pictures, no books. Not even a telly or radio. Place has all the charm of a room in a cheap doss house."

Angel glanced around the luxuriously appointed apartment. Even he had a few personal mementos here and there. "Sounds like she does need to get out," he conceded. He gave up. "I'll take you."

"You'll what?" Spike sat bolt upright, a picture of shock.

"I'll drive the car, pay our way, everything," Angel elaborated. "You can call the shots as to where we go and what we do, but the only way we're going to be able to make this work is if it is a threesome."

Spike suddenly felt like a teenager whose mum had insisted on driving him to the prom. "Shit."

&&&&&&

Angel was trapped in his office again, a slave to paperwork, when Harmony came clicking in, her heels tapping out a brisk tattoo on the floor.

"What is this?" she demanded, throwing a piece of paper in front of him.

Angel glanced at it and saw it was the note he'd written the night before. "I thought it was pretty self-explanatory."

"She's just a research assistant, she's only been here a week, and she gets chauffeured in a company car?" Harmony fumed. "I'm your assistant and I still have to drive myself."

Angel considered the possibilities of explaining it to Harmony. A quick assessment of the situation told him that there was no way he was going to be able to put it without aggravating his assistant further, especially if Harm found out where the request had originated. He sneaked a peek at her and saw her eyes go yellow, then, her demon came out. No way to be nice about it now. "In case it escaped your notice, Harmony, I don't need your permission to make a decision. You just carry out orders. Unless, of course, you want to go back to the secretarial pool." As she started to leave, he added, "And you might want to fix your face."

She looked puzzled, then put a hand to her face and realized what she'd done. She turned and ran out of the room.

Angel picked up his phone and dialed Wesley's extension. "Wes? Could you pass on a message for me? Tell Rose that if there isn't a car waiting to take her home tonight, she's to come straight to my office and not try walking, okay? Thanks."

That taken care of, Angel went back to his paperwork.

&&&&&&

Wesley walked into Rose's office. She looked up from her computer. "I'm sorry, Wesley, I don't have the latest translation done yet. It's going kind of slow. Part of the text is nearly illegible."

"No hurry," he assured her. "Actually, I came here to deliver a message from Angel. He said that if there isn't a car waiting to take you home that you're to go to his office. What's that all about?"

"I don't think he likes the idea of me walking home," she mumbled. "He wouldn't have even known about it if Spike hadn't told him."

Now, Wesley's curiosity was piqued. "Spike told Angel that you were walking home? Why?"

"He called the neighborhood I walk through the 'vampire ghetto'," she replied. "Now they're both coming over all protective. They're afraid I'll get bitten. Especially after last night."

Wes parked his backside on the edge of her desk. "Go on."

"They picked me up on the way home last night," she said with a sigh. "And we had to make a stop on the way so Angel could rescue a woman from a couple of vampires."

"And you've been walking that way every night?" The Watcher was aghast. "You're lucky to be alive, Rose." He grew reflective for a moment. "And you say that Spike was concerned for your safety?"

She shrugged. "I guess so." She knew so, but wasn't going to go as far to admit it. Especially if she could find a way to draw Wesley out and find out what he thought of Spike. "I take it that's unusual?"

He considered. "Well, he did save Fred's life, and in doing so gave up a one shot chance at being corporeal again. I guess most of us are just so used to seeing him making jokes and being a nuisance that we don't always see the full picture."

"Since working here, I've.., heard things," Rose said, then just decided to flat out ask. "Wesley, do you think that Spike deserves to go to hell?"

"Well, he did do some pretty terrible things as a soulless vampire," Wesley mused.

"As I'm sure Angel did," she pointed out. "It was a simple yes or no question. It's not an exam or anything, just your honest opinion. Do you think Spike deserves to go to hell?"

"Well, if it were up to me, I guess I'd say, no," Wes admitted. "Unfortunately for Spike, it's not up to me." He got up. "Well there's still work to be done. See you later, Rose. And no more walking home."

&&&&&&

Rose was on her way out when she bumped into Lorne.

"Hello, Rosebud," the demon schmoozed. "When are you going to give up the research and pursue your true calling, doll? I could have recording execs in fistfights over you with that voice."

Rose blushed. "Stop teasing, Lorne. I'm perfectly content the way I am."

"I'm not teasing, cuddlebunny," Lorne protested. "You have got it. It seems a cryin' shame to waste it all cooped up with a bunch of dry old books."

"I feel like I'm useful here," Rose demurred. "I can't imagine feeling that way just for singing."

"Don't underestimate the power of music, darlin'." Lorne was serious now. "You could end more people's troubles just by singing to them than you'll ever be able to if you work for Wes for a hundred years."

"The Watcher won't like it if you steal his pet assistant away from him," a familiar voice warned. They turned to see Spike standing behind them. "Hullo, luv. Best you shake a leg, your car's waiting."

"And you're here to make sure I get in it, are you?" Rose queried.

"Am I missing something here?" Lorne was mystified.

"Usually." Spike smirked at him. "But not to worry your little green head, Lorne. I'm sure it will all come to you in time." He turned his gaze back to Rose. "C'mon, pet. Tempus fugit, and all that."

And they walked away leaving Lorne staring at their backs and shaking his head.

&&&&&&

Spike disappeared somewhere along the way to the parking garage, and Rose thought she'd seen the last of him for the day. She found she was mistaken after the stone-faced driver handed her into the car. Spike was sitting there waiting for her.

"Bringing your work home again?" Spike glanced at the books she was carrying. "You really do need to get a life."

"But I have a life," she protested. "I have a job, and a home, and.., and," she looked at Spike and added softly, "friends. What more do you think I need?"

Spike had started looking disgusted, but the look had softened considerably when she had pronounced him her friend. "Rose," he started, a lot more gently than he had intended. "It's still not much of a life. There's a lot more out there than Wolfram and Hart. When was the last time you went out of an evening and just had fun?"

"Fun?" Rose hedged. "Can't I have fun doing what I'm good at?"

"You're not answering my question," Spike scolded softly. "Which is in itself an answer. What are you afraid of, Rose?"

"I'm not afraid," she mumbled, looking away from him. "Maybe I'm just not interested in.., in..,"

"Enjoying yourself?" he suggested. "Having a good time?" His voice dropped to a near whisper. "Or maybe it's just me."

Rose looked back at him, looked him in the eye. "I'm not afraid of you, Spike."

"Then you'll go out with me tomorrow night?" It was Spike's turn to drop his gaze. He felt like a right nit. The Big Bad all flustered because a girl might refuse to go on a date with him. He was glad that Angel couldn't see him now.

"You want me to go out with you?" She was acting like he'd spoken in a foreign language that she didn't quite understand.

Spike cocked his head to one side. "Can't be the first time a bloke's asked you out, pet. Do you always keep a man waiting for an answer?"

She looked confused, and looking down at herself reminded her of something. "I don't suppose that this," she indicated her clothes with a wave of her hand, "would be suitable?"

He shook his head. "Don't you have anything pretty tucked away somewhere? I don't think I've ever met a woman with less vanity than you." He got a wicked grin. "What say we take a little detour before getting to your place?"

"What kind of detour?" She looked a little shocked. "Besides, it's a company car, do you think we should?"

"Ta." He waved his hand in a languid gesture. "Bugger the company. We're going shopping, luv. We're going to get you all togged out, and when we're done, every male at Wolfram and Hart is going to be fallin' down at your feet."

"But..," Rose started, but Spike had already stuck his head up into the front and was giving the driver new instructions.

&&&&&&&

Angel sat back and put his feet up. It had been a long day, and he felt more exhausted than he would have if he had spent the whole day wrestling with demons. And he seriously doubted that it was over yet. Now that he had one quiet, tranquil moment alone, he figured that Spike would be showing up soon. For the annoyance value, if for no other reason. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You're supposed to sleep in the bed, you silly git." There were times when Spike was incredibly predictable. "'Sides, I wanted to tell you that we're all set for tomorrow night."

Angel sat up and looked at the time. "What have you been doing all this time? Rose went home hours ago."

"Well, not exactly." Without being asked, Spike made himself at home. "Took her out shopping for some decent clothes. Couldn't take her out looking like she's been dressed by the Salvation Army." He grinned. "Had to do some fast talking on a couple of those outfits. But she looked absolutely smashing in 'em."

Angel grinned back in spite of himself. "You always could pile on the blarney, boyo." His long-lost Irish brogue came out for some air. "I don't suppose you even gave her a chance to say no?"

"Course not," Spike scoffed. "Not to mention which, she really didn't want to say no. I can be pretty damn charming when I want to be."

"Just not around me," Angel observed, throwing a pillow through Spike.

"That goes without saying." Spike gave Angel a smirk. "You are going to let me do the talking tomorrow, aren't you?"

"I'll only speak when spoken to," Angel said solemnly, then spoiled it with a wink.

"Oh hell."