Two Gallants
By Mikelesq
Concept: Spike runs into an old friend while on an assignment for Wolfram & Hart.
Spoilers: Set during immediately after Why We Fight and during Smile Time episodes of AtS. Spoilers up through those episodes.
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Please, e-mail Mikelesqaol.com
Legal disclaimers: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel" characters and situations are owned by Joss Whedon and the producers of the show. The story is entirely fiction. Distribute if you like. The title is stol...er, "borrowed" from James Joyce's short story of the same name in Dubliners.
Prologue
"Um, Boss?"
"What is it, Harmony?" Angel replied, turning away from the window and walking toward his desk.
"Are you two in a meeting?" Harmony asked, pointing at Spike. "Because the contractors are here to fix the glass."
"I'll move into the conference room," Angel said, gathering a stack of files and walking past Spike and Harmony toward the door.
"Right," Spike said, following Angel through the doors. "The conference room it is, then."
"Spike," Angel sighed. "I said I'll move. As in me. Alone."
"Oh, got the whole day penciled in for brooding over Lawson?" Spike asked.
"No," Angel intoned, maneuvering through the crowd of scurrying staffers that milled about the lobby. "I have the whole day penciled in for doing work. Which means I don't have time to deal with your...what are you doing here, anyway?"
"I'm bored," Spike said.
"So you decided to come here and annoy me?"
"Well, that's an appealing Plan B," Spike replied. "But Plan A is finding something to keep me occupied."
"I thought Fred gave you one of those game...things."
"Over it," Spike said. "I can do the Pie Factory in my sleep. I need something with a little more meat on it. With Fake Doyle getting all wooshed away, I figured you'd have something that could use doing."
"The third floor's always looking for file clerks," Angel grumbled, walking to Harmony's desk and dropping a manila file on the counter.
"Oh, c'mon!" Spike growled, as Harmony walked past him, grabbed the file off the counter, and walked around to her seat. "You can do better than that. There's got to be some beastie out there that needs the stuffing beat out of it."
"Hit the alleys," Angel said. "Troll the sewers. You know the drill. You want trouble? You don't need me to tell you where to find it."
"Yeah, right," Spike groaned. "Walk, stake, walk, punch, walk, kick, walk home, watch TV. Pffth!"
"It did rain last night," Harmony chimed in. "The sewers are bound to be a little icky."
"Look, Spike," Angel moaned. "If I put you on something, will it get you out of here?"
"Absolutely," Spike said. "Give me something to go after, I won't come back until it's done for. Unless, of course, it turns out the baddie's actually here, which, let's face it, lately that's better than even odds."
"Fine," Angel huffed, leafing through the files in his hands. "Let's see...here!"
Angel pulled out one of the files and handed it to Spike.
"His name's Greenway," Angel said, as Spike opened the file. "Petty racketeer. He skipped out of this dimension, killed five nuns on his way, and we got stuck covering the bail bond. Fred and Wes said it'll take months to find him down trying to track his portal path, and we don't have time for that if we're going after Eve. Hit the streets, see if anyone knows anything. Find Greenway, we nail the son of a bitch, and we get our money back. How's that?"
"Not bad," Spike said, flipping through the pages. "Hey, you said this bloke jumped dimensions. You hoping I'll find him, and get trapped in some parallel universe with no hope of ever returning?"
"A man can dream," Angel replied.
"Right, then," Spike said. "I'll just need a little pocket cash, and a set of wheels."
"No problem," Angel agreed. "You can get three days per diem from accounting, and security will give you a set of keys to one of our many not-Viper automobiles."
"You really have to let it go with the whole Viper thing."
"No, you really have to let it go with the whole Viper thing."
"You just don't want me having it because you know I like it," Spike argued.
"You just want it because you know it's my favorite," Angel shot back.
"Look, every time I've taken it, I've brought it back, haven't I?"
"Not a selling point."
"Angelcakes!" Lorne called from the elevator as he walked toward the front desk, trailed by a short, balding man in a pinstripe grey suit that seemed to absorb as much light as Lorne's red satin jacket reflected.
"What is it, Lorne?" Angel asked.
"I know we're not on the calendar," Lorne said. "But this is Stu. He's from the WB. He just signed our firm to a big development deal for their new series, and we just need a few minutes for a confab."
"Mr. Angel," Stu said, extending his hand.
"There's no Mister," Angel replied, shaking Stu's hand and shooting a perplexed glance at Lorne. "Um, I really don't do much with the day-to-day affairs in the Entertainment Division."
"This is different, El Capitán," Lorne said. "Stu here's got a new vampire show on the fall slate."
"We're doing a remake of Dark Shadows," Stu said.
"Dark Shadows?" Spike repeated. "Brilliant!"
"Oh, sorry," Lorne said. "Stu, this is Spike."
"Spike?" Stu asked. "The Spike we were talking about?"
"Big fan of Dawson's, mate," Spike said. "Can't wait to see what you do with Barnabas."
"Who?" Angel asked.
"Barnabas Collins, you git," Spike said. "You know? Spooky town? Jonathan Frid? They showed the reruns late at night in the seventies. Ugh, what, were you living in a hole in the ground?"
"Yes, I was!"
"The point is," Stu interrupted. "We're kind of looking to give the show a fresh look. Lorne here thought that it might help to talk to an actual tortured-soul vampire. You known, to get story ideas."
"Um, you mean, stories about me?" Angel said. "On TV? A show about my life?"
"Well, there might be something we can use," Stu said.
"Whoa," Angel gasped. "That'd be...something. I mean, I'm sure I could think of a few things. Like, there was this guy named Holtz. He followed me to Los Angeles. Well, not so much followed. More time-traveled. He slept for centuries before he...well, let me go back. It all started in the Seventeen Hundreds when...."
"Ooh, let me stop you," Stu said, wincing. "We're really not looking for any complicated story arcs. They confuse the casual viewers. We want to stick to stand-alone episodes."
"Oh. Sorry."
"What are you telling him about Holtz for?" Spike asked. "Nobody wants to watch a show with some bearded old fart on horseback."
"Spike," Angel growled. "I'm trying to work here."
"Oh, sorry Mr. Spelling," Spike said, rolling his eyes. "Why don't you tell him a riveting tale of midnight brooding over the payroll spreadsheets? That'll get the nation glued to the telly."
"I'm trying to tell the whole story," Angel retorted. "You weren't even born yet. If you want to tell a good story...."
"Oh, please," Spike groaned. "I heard this riveting tale about a hundred times over twenty years, and you wouldn't know a good story if it bit you on the ass."
"Don't you have a job to do?"
"Yeah," Spike answered. "And right now my job is to keep you from giving this guy the impression that all vampires are nothing but boring windbags with desk jobs."
"Right," Angel snorted. "It'd be a shame if he didn't know that there were also a lot of vampires with bleached hair and too much time on their hands!"
"I wouldn't throw stones when it comes to hair, you stupid poof! I've seen E'Jyrrah demons with less slime!"
"Oh, my god!" Stu gasped. "Lorne, you were right!"
Angel and Spike stopped glaring at each other and turned toward Stu.
"The look!" Stu continued. "It's electric! The fangirls would go crazy!"
"Uh, Lorne?" Angel asked. "What is he...?"
"Um, Stu baby, maybe we should get up to my office," Lorne mumbled. "You know, mix a couple of tartinis and...."
"I can have a photographer here in ten minutes," Stu said, his eyes dancing. "It'll give the actors something to shoot for. If we can get that look in every episode, we're sitting on a goldmine!"
"What's he going on about?" Spike asked.
"It's nothing," Lorne said, taking a tentative step backward. "We'll just head upstairs and...."
"Could you two fight just a little more?" Stu asked. "Or maybe tell me about other times you fought? Where the anger came from, maybe some of the underlying...?"
"I think we've taken up enough of Angel's time," Lorne interrupted, wrapping an arm around Stu's shoulder and steering him toward the stairs.
"Oh, sorry," Stu apologized. "It's just...they make Clark and Lex look like Tom and Jerry! If I could put that look on the cover of TV Guide, damn!"
Angel scowled. "Clark and...?"
"Oh, conference call!" Lorne cried, leading Stu up the stairway. "We're supposed to be on a conference call in ten minutes! Gotta run!"
Angel and Spike watched Lorne ascend the stairs, as Stu followed while casting hurried glances down at the pair.
"Um, well," Angel said.
"That was...odd," Spike added.
"You don't think he thought...?"
"Thought? Thought what?"
"Uh, nothing," Angel muttered.
"Nothing at all," Spike quickly agreed.
"Er, look, if you really want the Viper...."
"Nah," Spike said, waiving a dismissive hand. "I'll just take the Audi."
"It's no big deal, if you want...."
"No, no. The Audi's fine. Nothing worth going on about."
"Okay."
"Right then," Spike said, hurrying toward the elevators.
Spike walked into the elevators, shoved his hands into his pockets, and stared at the floor until the doors closed.
"So, are you doing it?" Harmony asked.
"What?!" Angel exclaimed. "No! I mean, doing what?"
"The show," Harmony replied.
"Uh, no," Angel murmured. "That is, I don't think...look, television is a waste of time."
Angel tucked the files under his arm and hurried toward the conference room.
TBC