8
Rose and the twins are mine, and, the occasional villain. Just about everyone else came from the twisted mind of Joss Whedon, and they belong to him.
The Foggy Dew
Cry Havoc
Stenslow wadded the papers in his hands into an unsightly ball. "Wolfram and Hart used to be one of our most valuable allies," he snarled. "But ever since the damned vampire took over, they have been a stumbling block to our interests. We need to find a way to dispose of the vampire."
"With all due respect, sir," his aide suggested timidly. "The problem may not be with the vampire, per se, but with his soul. Maybe we don't have to get rid of the vampire, sir, just his soul."
&&&&&&&
"Spike would probably have.., kittens if he knew." Rose watched what Angel was doing, then attempted to mirror his movements.
"He probably would," Angel agreed, changing his stance, slowly, so that Rose could follow. "But it's still a good idea. What made you decide you wanted to learn to fight? I thought you were content to let someone else come to the rescue." He shifted position again.
Rose shrugged, which ruined the move, so she had to do it over. "I don't really like having to be rescued," she answered. "Because that means there's already trouble afoot." She paused to adjust her sweatband. It irritated her, but it was a necessity. "But the last time was just one too many. I'm tired of having people I care about risk their lives for me."
"All things considered, that's probably still going to happen, Rose," Angel pointed out. Then, he grinned. "But let's see what we can do to make things a little more difficult for the bad guys. By the way, what does Spike think you're doing?"
"Aerobics classes," Rose replied. "He says he doesn't think I need them. I think he's going along with it just to let me get out on my own a little bit."
"And he hasn't caught on yet that you aren't even leaving the building?" Angel was having a little trouble with the concept. As protective of her as Spike was, he thought he'd probably watch her departure.
"But I do," Rose informed him. "I call a taxi, go out and get in it. Then, I just have the driver let me out on the other side of the building."
Angel laughed. "What about coming home? Or do the kids have orders to keep him so well occupied that he doesn't have time to look out the window?"
Rose was shocked. "I would never ask my children to help me deceive their father," she protested. She gave him a sly smile. "The cab driver and I have an understanding. He doesn't mind because he's getting a decent amount of money for very little effort. Besides, I had to find some way to get rid of the money I was supposed to be spending on classes."
"You're getting to be a very devious lady," Angel remarked. "Are you ready to try some sparring now?"
"Okay," Rose agreed unenthusiastically. She didn't mind learning the moves, but she really didn't care for the part of the lesson where she put those moves into practice. She reminded herself that this had been her idea.
"Rose." Angel tipped up her chin with a gentle finger. "You know I am not going to hurt you." Then, he saw something else flit across her features, and laughed. He released her chin and gave her a quick hug. "The last time you hurt me was entirely by accident. I want to see if you can do it on purpose."
&&&&&&&&&
The executive conference room at Havoc & Associates was much the same as such things all over. Perhaps slightly less opulent and certainly a bit more worn than its analog at Wolfram and Hart. The last few months had been a little lean.
"Profits are down again this quarter," clicked one of them. A demon with insect-like mandibles. "What do you have to say about that, Stenslow?"
"Yes," broke in another member of the bod. "Being a subsidiary branch of Wolfram and Hart used to mean that we made profits when no one else did. So what's going on?"
"As you all know," Stenslow began nervously. "A number of years ago, the senior partners of Wolfram and Hart turned over their L.A. branch to a vampire with a soul. For a while, we kept afloat through our own contacts. But over time, many of our clients have drifted away, going elsewhere, where business is better. And we haven't been pulling in the new clients. Word of what Angel has been doing has spread, and the type of people we can do business with just aren't settling here anymore."
The directors exchanged worried looks. Technically, they were an offshoot of an offshoot of the multi-dimensional law firm. But they still ultimately answered to the senior partners. And it had been the senior partner's decision to make Angel the CEO of their L.A. branch.
"Surely the vampire realizes that we comprise at least part of his profits," one of the lesser board members ventured. "Is he sending no business our way whatsoever?"
Stenslow shook his head. "None whatever," he replied. "But I have come up with a plan that may well serve to raise our numbers again. And make our grandparent office once again worthy of the name."
&&&&&&&
Rose walked into the apartment, dressed in her usual style with all traces of the past couple of hours activities showered off her. She did find it a trifle odd that no one met her at the door. And the place was altogether too quiet. Had Spike taken a notion to take the children on some sort of outing? She found it uncharacteristic that he would just leave like that when he knew she was due home. Just as panic was starting to set in, Spike emerged from the kitchen.
"Thought I heard you coming in, pet," he remarked, taking the bag with her sweaty workout clothes and giving her a kiss.
Relief made Rose return the kiss rather enthusiastically, which in turn, gave Spike ideas.
"Mm, nice to know you've missed me, luv," he mumbled against her lips between kisses. "What say we..,"
"Wait," Rose interrupted. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back from her a few inches so she could think. "Where are the children?"
"Lorne came and got them," Spike explained, realizing it should have been the first thing out of his mouth. "He's got an appointment with some producers of kid's shows. Took them along for a test audience."
"They don't like children's shows," Rose pointed out. "And furthermore, Lorne knows that."
Spike grinned. "I think that was the idea, luv. They're not gonna know what hit 'em." He pulled her back up close. "So it looks like we've got the place all to ourselves for a few hours. Or are you too worn out from working out with the pouf?"
Rose stiffened in shock, and her eyes grew wide. She wasn't sure what was the bigger surprise, the fact that Spike knew, or that he didn't seem to object. "What gave me away?"
"For starters, the fact that you're a lousy liar, babe." Spike began tugging her along towards the bedroom, then, getting impatient with how slowly she was moving, swept her up in his arms. "That and the fact that I was always catching your scent down in the practice room of a Monday. And his."
"If you didn't mind, why didn't you say something?" Rose queried. "When I think of all the trouble I've gone to just to keep it a secret..,"
"I do mind," said Spike, setting her back on her feet. "But not because you're spending time with the ponce. I don't much care for the idea of you learning to fight. Don't like thinking you might need to."
"I hope I don't," Rose admitted. "Because, right now, I suck."
The grin returned and turned into a leer. "Promise?" Spike asked teasingly.
&&&&&&&
Lorne chatted quietly with one of the stage hands as the pilot of the new children's show was being aired for the double-dozen or so appreciative children that comprised the test audience. Lorne's mind was only tenuously connected to his conversation with the man. He was having to carry on another, with two people, in his head.
'This is really boring, Uncle Lorne.' Even in his head, Alaric sounded bored, and more than a little condescending.
'And everybody here thinks like a bunch of babies.' Ariel was complaining too.
'Just keep your cool, guys,' Lorne advised them silently. 'After it's over, I'll take you out and stuff you with junk that you mom will yell at me about.'
He scarcely 'heard' their hearty approval of the plan, because the stage hand was trying to regain his attention.
"Hey, are you all right?" He sounded concerned.
"Sorry," Lorne apologized. "My mind was wandering. What were you saying?"
"I said it looks like a winner," the man replied. "All the kids seem to be enjoying it. Except the two that came with you."
"Well." Lorne gave a half-laugh. "Can't please everybody, can you?"
&&&&&&&&&
"Travers!" Stenslow barked for his aide, first thing Monday morning.
"Yes, sir." Travers appeared immediately.
"I've put the proposal to the board," Stenslow said. "They approved it unanimously. Now, find me a way to deliver."
"I've already been looking into it, sir," Travers replied. "I know it can be done, it has in the past, but I haven't tracked down the means yet."
"You'd better find the means," Stenslow shot back darkly. "And by the end of the week. If you don't, you'll be lucky if your worst problem is being fired."
"Yes, sir," Travers gulped nervously. "Was there anything else, sir?"
"What about the testing for the new kid's show we're backing?" Stenslow asked. "How did it rate with the rug-rats at the preview?"
"With a couple of exceptions, sir, they all loved it." Travers handed his boss the report, which included interviews with each of the children at the showing.
Stenslow started flipping through the pages. Most of the comments ran along the lines of "cool," "neat," and even, "rad." Until he got to the two in question. One read, "completely asinine," and the other said, "totally void of any intelligent content." Stenslow blinked. What six year old talked that way? He looked at the names attached to those particular interviews. Alaric and Ariel Powers.
"Where did these Powers kids come from?" he asked, then sat there chewing his lip. His own people had written the stuff down, sparing him the necessity of having to read primary age handwriting. So those kids must have said that. And their ages were written down on the form, plain as day.
Travers sighed, pretty sure of the reaction the answer would provoke. "They were brought here by Lorne," he said quietly. "The head of entertainment at Wolfram and Hart."
"I know where he works!" Stenslow snapped. "I think I smell a rat here, Travers. Ten to one that green bastard coached those kids to say those things. I knew that six year old kids didn't talk like that."
"If you'll excuse my saying so, sir," Travers put forth. "But I believe that the interviewers put quite a bit of effort into getting them to say anything else. From what they gave me to understand, those were the least offensive of the replies. Especially from the little boy. They say that he swears like a British sailor."
&&&&&&&&&
Rose stepped into Lorne's office early that same morning. Lorne saw her come in and figured that the reckoning for his indulging the moppets was about to bite him on the ass.
"How did the preview go?" Rose asked. It made Lorne nervous. He'd thought she'd rip right into him. Instead, it looked like she was building up to it. Not a good sign.
"Surely the munchkins could have told you that," Lorne hedged. And he was sure they would have. Self-expression was not a problem for the twins.
"They thought it was garbage," Rose replied. "Which I'm sure you knew going in to it. You know they hate children's programming. They were already beyond it by the time they were old enough to sit up and watch t.v."
"Just thought that I'd put a couple of cats in among the pigeons, Rosebud." Lorne smiled weakly. When was she going to get on with it? The tension was killing him.
"Did you have a reason for it?" Rose queried. "Or was it just simple perversity?"
"The program is being backed by Havoc & Associates," Lorne said in explanation. "They're the bottom of the bottom feeders, blossom. I was just doing my little bit to help make the world a better place."
"And using my children to help you do it," Rose pointed out.
"Well, I don't exactly have access to other kids, sugarplum," Lorne replied. "Have you thought about sending them to school?"
"What brought that on?" Rose inquired, puzzled by the shift in topic. "Oz is tutoring them. We've gotten the home school courses, and I'm sure they'll do quite well. And Oz is getting practical experience to go along with the on-line courses he's taking in education."
"All well and good, dollbaby," Lorne said. "But they don't even begin to relate to kids their own age. They're more like a pair of little adults."
"Without the social graces," Rose added. "We do plan to send them to school, Lorne. But not now. When they're older and have had some time to learn a little.., discretion."
"You mean so that they won't blurt out in show and tell that they drink blood?" Lorne asked. "Or so Alaric won't call his little classmates bloody wankers?"
Rose closed her eyes briefly. "Do you think it would do me any good to speak to Spike about his language again?"
&&&&&&&&
"Valentine."
Val winced. He hated it when Spike called him that. He sincerely regretted giving his department head that particular bit of information.
"Yes, sir." Val was practically unrecognizable from what he'd been four years previously. Hair trimmed neatly. Dressed nicely, if not spectacularly, the job didn't lend itself to fancy gear.
"Here." Spike wasn't into long speeches today. He tossed Val a staff.
Val sighed. He'd gotten pretty good at fighting. He'd had quite a bit of motivation to do well. He could take any human in the place now. But Spike always beat the crap out of him. He raised his staff in a defensive position.
"That's your first mistake." A full sentence. Spike must be starting to unbend a little. "You always start out on the defensive. You'd do better to go on the attack occasionally." Then, he lit into Val.
Val resigned himself to another miserable night nursing his bruises. And zero sympathy from Harmony. She thought that he ought to be able to kick Spike's ass if he really wanted to. After all the ass-kickings he'd received from that particular source, he'd be more than happy to. If he could. As it was, on a good day, he might get in a shot or two. With a sinking feeling, he realized that he'd let his mind wander. It was the last thing he thought before Spike's staff connected with his head and knocked him cold.
It was not going to be a good day.
&&&&&&&&
Angel was flipping through the paperwork, just scanning right now, trying to figure out if there was anything of monumental importance, or if it was all minutiae. There was one document that had the Havoc & Associates logo on it. Curious, he read it. Then, read it again. Once he sifted through the polite language, it seemed to read, play ball with us or else. But it didn't say what 'or else' encompassed. He knew that Havoc & Asso. had tenuous ties to Wolfram and Hart, so he could pretty much guess what playing ball would mean. And that wasn't about to happen. But he decided he needed a better picture of the firm. He picked up the phone.
"Gunn? Get together everything you have on Havoc & Associates," he ordered. "They're getting a little irritated with us, and I want to know just what sort of resources they have to back up their threats."