40

Rose woke without opening her eyes, and stretched. Good thing that it was Saturday and she hadn't had to get up for work. She rolled over to look at the time, and saw Spike, in the same position he had been when she had drifted off to sleep.

"You must really have needed that, luv," he said. "Slept a good ten hours. What's on the agenda for today?"

She couldn't suppress a grin. "I thought the date was over." She sat up, and the shade followed suit. "I guess I ought to go somewhere and get my hair cut for one thing," she commented ruefully. "As for the rest of the day, I was sort of planning on doing some housecleaning before everything gets buried in dust."

Spike looked around. If there was any dust in the place, he couldn't see it. "And then what?"

She looked at him in surprise. "I don't know, isn't that enough? If I have the time before it closes, I might go to the library."

Spike got up out of the bed, trying to act as real as possible. "Sounds dull as dishwater to me," he remarked. "What say I drop back by this evening, pet? A little bit of company to while away the lonely hours?"

Rose smiled at him warmly. "Well, you don't seem to have worn out your welcome yet. Do you have a specific time in mind, or shall I just expect you whenever you get here?"

Before Spike could answer, her phone rang, and he chuckled seeing her almost jump out of her skin at the sound. Must not give out her phone number to many people if she was that unused to it. Still there were always the calls from the telemarketers. He eavesdropped unashamedly to her end of the conversation.

"Hello? What? Oh, yes, I'm fine. No aftereffects at all," she assured her caller. Spike had a good idea who it was. "It's really not necessary." She started blushing, and Spike wondered what Peaches was saying to her. "I wish you wouldn't. I guess I don't have a choice, do I? I do need to go out today anyway, so the lift will be appreciated. Spike? He's here. Did you want to speak to him? Oh, I kind of forgot that. I will. Thank you."

She hung up the phone and saw Spike giving her a look. "What did Mr. Broody have to say?"

"Well, for one thing," she answered. "He wants to see you. I imagine he'll tell you the rest." She got a mysterious little smile going. "You might want to hurry."

She had really gotten his curiosity piqued. "Back in a bit then, luv." He disappeared.

&&&&&&

When he showed up at Angel's his grandsire was sitting with his sketchbook in hand. "You wanted to see me, Peaches?"

Angel started, then sighed and started erasing. "I wish you wouldn't do that," he grumbled. "And as for that particular nickname, you know how I feel about that."

"Course I do." Spike wandered around Angel to see what he was drawing, but Angel flattened the book against his chest and prevented him seeing it. "Why do you think I do it? So, what's the burning issue that you need to discuss with me?"

Angel gestured to a chair. "This may take a while." Before Spike could argue that comfort was not a consideration where he was concerned, he added, "It's serious, Spike, I'd like to be able to look you in the eye."

"Hope it won't take too long," Spike remarked. "Rose asked me to hurry back."

"Relax," Angel advised. "The car hasn't left yet, and won't, till I give the word. I know she told me she's okay, but how is she, really?"

"Really, okay," Spike answered. "Except for having to get a haircut. She didn't realize that stuff got in her hair, and it ate away a chunk of it. But no physical or psychological effects, if that's what you're getting at. She slept like a baby all night without stirring."

Angel's eyebrows shot up. "You watched her sleep? Why?"

"'Cause, you bloody big pouf, I was worried about her. Why do you think?" Spike snapped. "I wanted to make sure that she kept breathing in and out. That there was someone there if that demon started chasing her in her dreams."

"Got it bad, haven't you?" It was phrased as a question, but Angel made it sound like a statement. Therefore, he didn't bother to wait for an answer. "Have you given any thought to where this relationship is going?"

"Can't see that it's any business of yours," Spike stated. "But just for the record, I find her attractive, intelligent, a little bit mysterious, and I may just be falling in love with her."

"That's what I thought," Angel replied. "You always were one to wear your heart on your sleeve. But that wasn't what I asked. I asked if you had given any thought to where the relationship was going. Or where it possibly could go. Suppose the two of you do fall in love? Do you expect her to stand by hoping that somehow someone will be able to make you corporeal again? Or wait for you to get sucked into hell?" He saw by the stricken look on Spike's face, that he hadn't thought that far into the future. "It isn't fair to her, Spike. Don't you think she deserves better than that?"

"Bloody hell." Spike slumped down in his chair. "She does deserve better. A lot better. So maybe I should just stop seeing her?"

Angel shook his head. "She trusts you. I think she may even rely on you. What I'm saying, is that maybe you should just tone things down a bit. Don't offer her more than friendship. No more dates, for sure. Just back off a little. It will probably hurt like hell, but if you really care for her, then you won't take the relationship so far that you can't get out of it without hurting her."

Spike sat there for a few minutes, chewing on his own lip. "Poncey git," he growled. "Of all the times you've been wrong, did you have to be right this time?"

Angel went back to his sketching. "I've said my piece, for what it's worth. I hope you know I didn't really enjoy it."

"You never enjoy anything." Spike was still looking bleak.

"Don't you want to know why I'm sending her a car?" Angel prompted.

"Guess." Spike was still looking thoughtful.

"The driver's got a line of credit for her on my account," Angel explained. "So she can replace her clothes. I'm not sure that she's the kind of woman who will find any real compensation in a shopping spree. Still, it was all I could do. Are you planning on going with her?"

"I suppose I shouldn't," Spike muttered. "But I hate to think what she'd buy without me there. And it's not like it's really a boyfriend/girlfriend sort of activity."

Angel picked up his cell phone. "Send the car for Miss Powers now, please. Yes, wherever she wants to go. Thank you." He shut the phone off. "The car's on its way. Aren't you going to get over there too?"

"I can get there faster than the car," Spike said. "Whatcha drawing, Angel? You usually aren't quite so secretive about your artwork."

Angel had known that hiding it would only serve to add fuel to Spike's curiosity. And after the conversation that they had just had, it didn't seem really fair. He turned the book around. The page was divided up into several little scenes, all from the night before, when to be totally honest, Angel had been little more than an onlooker anyway. There was Rose and Spike singing together. There was even one of Spike trying to distract the Amalyar demon away from Rose. But the one in the center had been one that Angel's photographic eye had captured in the dim lights of the movie house. Rose, carefree, face lit up with laughter, in profile, and Spike turned toward her, watching her with a look on his face that proved Angel's point about him wearing his heart on his sleeve.

"Looks almost like we belong together," Spike observed. "And I can't bloody help it, but I feel like we belong together. Why did I have to be brought back like this? Better to have let me burn. It couldn't hurt worse than this."

"You want me to call Rose and tell her you can't make it?" Angel asked sympathetically. The pain radiating from Spike was practically tangible.

"No," Spike answered. "She'd think I was mad at her. Or that you were trying to break us up. Which technically, you are. I'll go." He disappeared.

Angel looked at his work with a critical eye. He touched up a few details here and there before deciding that anything else would ruin it. They did look like they belonged together. And there was one small sketch in the bottom corner that Spike may have overlooked. It had also taken place when they were singing. Spike's attention was off to one side, away from Rose, and she was looking at him. With the same look on her face that had been on Spike's in the center picture. Angel sighed. It may already be too late for Spike to keep from hurting her. And Spike was already hurting.

&&&&&&

"You know you want to get it," Spike wheedled. "So what's the problem? It looks great on you, sets off your new hairstyle, and besides, it isn't even your money."

"Exactly," Rose argued. "It isn't my money, it's Angel's. He can't have meant for me to spend the entire amount, he can't possibly have. It's way more than that outfit cost."

"Maybe you should just consider it a bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty," Spike reasoned. "After all, I seriously doubt your contract says anything about being live bait for a demon."

"Just because Angel was there doesn't make it work related," Rose replied. "It just happened. And as for the clothes, considering what that demon's blood did to them, I hate to think what it would have done to my skin. If anything, I owe him for his quick thinking."

"Got paid back and plenty just getting to see you naked," Spike muttered half under his breath.

"I seriously doubt if he really even noticed," Rose said soothingly. "All he was interested in was making sure that I wasn't hurt."

Spike doubted that, Angel noticed everything. But they were getting way far afield from the origins of the argument. "If he hadn't wanted you to spend that much he wouldn't have extended that much credit in your name." Bloody hell, now he was starting to talk like the pouf. Time he was himself again, that seemed to work better with her anyway. "Just take the money, pet. You earned it whether you think so or not." He gave her an evil little smirk. "And if you don't start wasting the ready, I'll tell the driver not to take you back home till every last cent is spent."

Rose checked her reflection in the mirror again. "It doesn't leave much to the imagination," she said dubiously. "Is it supposed to be this.., form fitting?"

"That's the idea, luv." Spike staged a leer at her. "Have all the men panting after you and all the women green with envy."

"Why would I want to do that?" Rose asked, mystified.

Spike sighed. "Just buy the outfit, luv."

&&&&&&&

Rose dropped the pile of packages on the sofa and joined them there, kicking off her shoes on the way down. Her feet were throbbing. How did humans put up with all the little aches and pains? Not to mention the larger ones. Spike had absolutely run her ragged on the shopping trip. She smiled. It was almost worth the discomfort just watching the linguistic convolutions he went through persuading her to buy something. She ran a hand through her shorn locks. Since she was only here for a short time, she supposed it shouldn't really make any difference how she looked, but she had been rather fond of the hair. She looked down at her attire. Spike had not only nagged her into buying the outfit, but had persuaded to wear it home. He really did seem to be able to talk her into anything, which was not necessarily a good thing. She should be able to retain a sense of objectivity, and she wasn't doing well on that score at all. To be entirely honest, she had no sense of objectivity about Spike at all. But on the other hand, wasn't the way she was feeling about Spike a point in his favor? And then there was the matter of Angel. The two had always been rivals, of a sort, so why had Angel gone to the trouble of facilitating their date? It had to be because Spike's plight had touched him in some way. And could he feel sorry for someone he thought deserved eternal torment? She sat there musing, feet up, eyes closed, nearly drifting off to sleep when someone knocked at the door.

Rose sat up with a start. Groaning, she put her abused feet down and answered the door.

"No chain?" Angel asked. "Rose, you can't just open the door like that. I could have been anybody. I could have been a criminal or a demon and you didn't even check to see if it was safe." He stood there at the doorway, delivering his lecture.

Then, Rose remembered. "Come in, Angel." She wondered what was in the largish, flat package under his arm.

Angel looked around her apartment and had to concede that Spike's assessment of the place was on the mark. It was a place to sleep, not to live. He handed her the package. "Something to decorate the walls with," he said. Seeing from the look on her face that she was going to be difficult, he added, "If you don't accept it, you'll hurt my feelings."

Rose gingerly took the package and opened it. There, in a simple wood frame was the series of drawings he had done from the night before. "It's wonderful," she murmured. "I had no idea you were so talented." She was studying the scenes intently.

"How was your shopping trip?" Angel asked, just to make conversation.

"Exhausting," she answered, still not taking her eyes off the picture.

"But obviously successful," he prompted. "That's new, isn't it?"

Rose blushed. "I don't know which is the notable feat, Spike talking me into buying it, or Spike talking me into actually wearing it. But you really shouldn't have..,"

"Remember what I said about hurt feelings?" Angel interrupted. "The money wasn't just for some ruined clothes. It was for helping me solve a problem. It was for keeping your head and keeping me from having to bury an employee. Lots of reasons." He noticed that she was still staring at the picture. "Don't you like it?"

"I love it," she assured him. "But did it all really look like that? I mean, well, like..,"

"Like the way you were looking at each other when the other one wasn't looking?" Angel suggested. "You did. Both of you." He started to look a little uncomfortable. Why did he feel like he had to play a father character for both parties of this ill-fated love affair? "Could I sit down?"

"What?" Rose had been absorbed in her study of the picture again. "Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking." She resumed her seat on the sofa, and Angel took a chair opposite her.

"Rose, I want to ask you a kind of personal question," he mumbled, feeling really awkward now. "I know it may seem like it's none of my business, and in the final analysis, it probably isn't. It just concerns people I care about and don't want to see hurt." He took a deep breath, he did need the air for speaking.

Rose could see where he was going, and made a decision that might have serious consequences. "You mean about the fact that Spike and I are falling in love with each other, don't you?" When Angel nodded, she went on to explain. "I didn't mean to, it's affecting my judgment and who knows what else. Angel, can I trust you with a secret? And I mean really trust, you can't tell anyone, not Spike, not Wesley, not a soul."

This conversation was not going quite the way Angel had imagined, but Rose obviously needed someone to confide in, and he had sort of opened the door to it. "I won't tell anyone," he promised. "But are you sure that I'm the person to tell?"

"I really shouldn't tell anyone," she admitted. "But it's so hard, being all alone. Being isolated in a body. How can you stand it?"

She had definitely gotten Angel's attention now. "'Being isolated in a body'?" he repeated. "What exactly are you, Rose?"

"Think about my name, Angel," she instructed him. "Especially the last name that I'm using. Let's say that it's more of a job description than a name."

"Powers?" he said wonderingly. Then, the other shoe dropped. And so did Angel's jaw. "You can't be." he sputtered. "You're one of the Powers That Be? What are you doing here?"

"I had been arguing with my peers, on a certain subject." She wasn't quite geared up to telling him what subject yet. "They thought I needed to observe first hand, as a human. Which, at the moment, I am. Completely human, no supernatural abilities. They even did things like facilitate my getting the position at your law firm."

"I've never even heard of one of the Powers actually interacting with human beings before," Angel remarked. "What was so important that you had to come here? And why did you have to be at Wolfram and Hart to do it?"

"Because the.., subject of my.., research is intimately tied, or perhaps bound, would be a better word for it, to Wolfram and Hart," she explained. Suddenly, a lone tear trickled down her cheek. Rose didn't appear to notice. "Angel, do you think that Spike deserves an eternity in hell?"

"All this is about Spike?" Angel was stunned. "Is he really that important in the scheme of things?"

"He was," Rose pointed out. "When he wore that amulet. And ever since then, I have been arguing on his behalf. And even more so since he was incarnated as a disembodied spirit. It isn't right. I believed it before I even met Spike. I believe it even more now. I just don't know how I can convince the rest of my colleagues that I'm right. Especially now."

"Now that you're in love with him," Angel said softly.

"I'm not even human," Rose moaned. "Not really. I don't, or didn't have emotions. It shouldn't be possible for me to fall in love." Another tear trailed down in the wake of the first one. "But I did. Angel, I'm in love with Spike."