Save the Last Dance for Me
"Spike, get your sorry ass up to my office," Angel snapped over the phone. All right, so things looked like they were going to turn out all right. But it could so easily have gone wrong. Besides, it was a way to vent some of the tension, so, he added, for good measure. "Now." Then, he hung up the phone before Spike could reply.
The moment Spike sauntered in, Angel grabbed him by the lapels of his duster and shoved him against the wall.
"You, bone-headed, jerk." Each word was accented by the back of Spike's head hitting the wall. "How did you get the pictures to her?"
"What pictures?" Spike asked, all innocence. He shook Angel off impatiently and rubbed the back of his head. "Got a lump coming up back there, you stupid nit."
Angel tossed a quarter at him, which Spike deftly snatched out of the air. "Call someone who cares," he told his grandchilde. "And quit playing dumb with me. I want to know how you got those pictures to Rose."
Spike flopped into the nearest chair. "Sent them with a friend," he hedged. Suddenly, he sat up straight. "If you know that Rose has the pictures, then she must have..,"
"Yes," Angel interrupted. "She called here. And sometime during the fundraiser tomorrow night, before she's scheduled to sing, we have to get her away from Richard McDaniels and get her out of there."
Spike became even more attentive. "Not that I have any problem with getting Rose away from the sorry little sod," he said cautiously. "Seein' as how that was what I've been wanting to do all along, but why the change in plans?"
"Because the song that McDaniels is having her sing is..," Angel began. He was interrupted by the door flying open, and Wesley stumping in as fast as a person on crutches could.
"Richard McDaniels is having Rose sing a spell that will offer her up as a sacrifice to a demon," Wesley announced, out of breath. "We have to find a way to stop it."
The vampires exchanged glances. "Glad to hear that you're keeping up with Rose, Wes," Angel remarked. "She'd already figured that out. Evidently she still remembers how to read Etruscan."
The Watcher's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "She does? How do you know? How in the world..," He seemed to lose his train of thought. He levered himself into a chair and sat looking at the two of them expectantly, waiting to hear the whole story.
Angel looked pointedly at Spike, since it seemed like that's where things had started.
"I had.., someone." He wasn't going to betray the Q'xlzr demon. At least, not unless it was necessary to save him an ass-chewing. "A friend. I had a friend take some of our family pictures to Rose. Some old, some new. You know, just so that..,"
"You could try to jog her memory," Angel finished for him. "Spike, I know you want her back, even more than the rest of us. But you need to listen to the experts and not try to force things like that."
"And I still don't know how Rose knows about the spell," Wes pointed out.
"In a flash of actual intelligence," Angel replied, ignoring Spike giving him the two-finger salute. "Spike wrote my office number on the back of one of the pictures. When Rose started realizing what that 'song' she was supposed to sing was, she called me." He looked back at Spike. "Why my office number?"
Spike shrugged. Actually, using Angel's number had been quite a concession for him. But, he'd always been willing to do what was best for Rose, no matter how much pride he had to swallow. "Well, I'm out of the office enough that it wouldn't do to use my extension." He gave his grandsire a pointed look, as if referring to an earlier argument. "Since some of us don't run to a personal assistant to take our calls when we're out. And I didn't think the home phone would be the answer either. If something would happen serious enough to make her call, it would have had to been during the day when Richie-boy was out of earshot. That kind of narrowed it down to you."
Wesley was still mulling things over. "She doesn't remember home and family," he muttered, half to himself. "But she does remember how to read Etruscan. Amazing."
&&&&&&
Richard carefully locked his office door before he flipped open his cell phone. This call was definitely not going out on one of the company lines. It still boggled his imagination that he could speak to the Master thus. He had anticipated some strange and weird spell. But even the monsters had to keep up with the technology of the twenty-first century.
"It's Richard, Master." It was how every conversation between them began. "I did as you ordered and set in motion a full background check on the sacrifice. Not only did we get every bit of information available on her, but we also found out that we are not the first to have done so. Yes, Master. But here's the odd thing. She has no history that anyone can find anywhere prior to her employment at Wolfram and Hart. The information on her application was patently falsified, and I'm surprised that they hired her. Even if they respected the connivance, they should have passed on her just from the sloppy job. No, it's not just my people, my Master. Havoc and Associates did a similar check about a year ago, and ran into the same thing. It's almost as if she appeared out of thin air about ten years ago."
&&&&&&&
She'd liked the voice she'd heard on the phone. She wondered if this Angel person was the man in the pictures with her. He sounded really nice. But no, that wasn't it. He'd said that the man in the pictures was named Spike. Curious name. She pulled out the pictures and looked again. He was very handsome. And they looked so.., right together. And the little ones looked positively adorable. She looked at them again, and then at herself in the mirror. She looked like the woman in the pictures, but both she and the man looked rather young to have school age children. It suddenly occurred to her to wonder if the photographs were fakes. Too late for that now. Besides, she knew that Richard was up to something no good. And that she wasn't, and most probably never had been his wife. She looked at the pictures again, especially the one of her and.., Spike, must remember the name. They looked so very much in love. She wished she could remember what it was like to feel that much in love with someone. Of course, right now, she'd be happy if she could remember just about anything.
&&&&&&&
"So, what's the plan of action?" The entire fang gang was once again met in Angel's office, but it was Gunn who spoke.
"We don't want to take her too early on in the night," Angel muttered. He was still scribbling things on paper, and going over the blueprint of the building where the fundraiser was to be held. "And we've got to make it seem as though she just stepped out. We don't want our senator-to-be suing us for botching security."
Spike gave him a look that said precisely what he thought of the excessive precautions. As far as he was concerned, the only priority was to get Rose back. He had dark hollows under his eyes, and his lithe form seemed to be leaning a bit towards the gaunt, these days.
"Are we all going?" Fred asked, giving him a pointed look. She gave another, similar look to Wesley, indicating he wasn't part of 'we all'. "Or are you and Spike going to hog it all?"
Angel gave her a lopsided grin. "Fred, you're on the front entrance manning the weapons detectors," he replied. "Lorne will be circulating, doing his thing, and, of course, keeping his eyes open. As boss, I'll mingle and hobnob." He paused to give everyone the time to get over a giggle at Spike's snort of unamused laughter. "Val will be wherever Spike puts him. Spike will be in charge of getting Rose out. She's got pictures of him, so she knows what he looks like."
"What about me?" Gunn asked. "You're taking Fred along, are you trying to say that you're going to leave me behind?"
"You're the diversion," Angel explained. "If it looks like the duties of being the focus of attention isn't enough to keep Richard McDaniels out of our way, you get to distract him. Talk shop or something. But try to keep hitting him over the head as a last-ditch resort."
"Angel," Wesley said quietly. "Once we've got her here, what do you intend to do with her? Unless she regains her memory between now and then, things will be awkward, to say the least. I very much doubt that she'll feel comfortable with the idea of resuming her family relationship."
Spike looked like the Watcher had sucker-punched him. Part of him insisted on believing that once they had Rose back, all would be right with the world. Problem was, there was always some bastard that kept pointing out that all wasn't right with the world, and wasn't likely to be. He went to the bar and grabbed a bottle. Before he could upend it, Angel took it out of his hands and returned it to its place.
"What about the kiddikins?" Lorne asked. "They're going to want to see their mom. Are you saying that we can't let them?"
"I think the first order of business when we get her back is to have medical give her a thorough going-over," Fred remarked. She'd jumped in with it because she figured that Spike would take less exception to it coming from her than from Angel.
"Why don't we play that one by ear?" Gunn suggested. "She might be curious and want to see them. Or, she may just feel sorry for them, missing their mom. We really won't know until we get her back."
"Aside from having medical check her out," Angel said quietly. "I think we'll just wait and see what Rose wants to do. If she wants to go home, fine. If not, she can stay in my spare room. Whatever she feels comfortable with. The main thing right now is to keep McDaniels from sacrificing her to a demon."
&&&&&&&
"It's very.., orange," she said dubiously, eyeing the formal gown. She hadn't realized they made them in such garish shades. And she certainly hadn't noticed Richard buying it when they'd been out shopping.
Richard smiled ingenuously. He realized that the thing was totally tasteless, and would clash with the red tones in her chestnut hair, but part of the ritual insisted on her wearing that particular shade. "You'll look great in it, Lily," he assured her. And, because he actually was an aspiring politician, he made the lie completely believable. Besides, it was, from his and the Master's standpoint, utterly necessary. He gave her a dose of puppy eyes. "Please? For me?"
She wondered at his blatant manipulation of her. Would he actually do that if she really was his wife? Or was it simply because he considered her disposable? She didn't really have an answer. She just made sure that she surreptitiously transferred the photographs into the purse that matched the hideous dress and started getting ready. To be sacrificed or rescued, one or the other. She hoped that if they did manage to get her, that they'd be able to restore her memory too. She really did want to remember. When she thought about the pictures that had been passed to her, she felt a pang of regret that she couldn't recall being part of something so obviously special.
&&&&&&&&
The conference center was a beehive of activity. Everywhere one looked, there were people going to and fro, doing something, either large or small in the cause of seeing Richard McDaniels getting into the California state senate. There were people who were concerned with decorations. There were caterers. There was the entertainment, and Lorne had outdone himself on this one. And there was a bleached blond Brit in a leather duster barking out orders over a cell phone.
"Who is that?" Richard asked Lorne, whom he'd just met face to face. He hadn't realized that Wolfram and Hart were so obviously integrated. He idly wondered if it would make a usable campaign platform. Equal rights for demons. Maybe not. Not even in California.
Lorne peered into the crowd of bodies. "Oh, you mean Spike," he answered. "He's in charge of security."
Richard gave Spike a more thorough inspection. "He looks awfully young for the job," he observed. He himself was thirty-five, and there was a lot of talk about his comparative youth in regards to the campaign.
Lorne wondered whether or not he should tell Richard that Spike was a vampire, then decided that the mere fact that this political wannabe was ready to sacrifice Rose in his own interests denied him such info. "He ages gracefully," the Pylean muttered. "And when do we get to meet your better half?" If Rose had been half of whatever this jerk was part of, she'd definitely be the better part of it.
Richard managed a natural looking smile. "She's still primping. I think she's got a little case of stage fright." He gave Lorne a knowing look.
"She ought to have a career on the stage the way she sings." Lorne didn't have to do any lying on that one. He'd always thought his precious blossom should sing for her supper, so to speak.
"Could you put that in writing for me?" Richard asked kiddingly. Not that it would matter. Not after Rose had done her turn in front of the lights.
&&&&&&&&
Dinner was over, and there was a space of time in between it and the organized entertainment. Spike was edgy and moving around here and there, not even trying to be inconspicuous. Which was just as well, as in his trademark jacket, he stood out like a sore thumb amongst the suits and evening gowns. Right now, there was dancing, and he thought of how much he and Rose always did enjoy an evening out dancing.
Almost as the thought crossed his mind, he caught her scent. Masked behind an unfamiliar perfume, and blurred by the scents of all the people around them, but unmistakably Rose. The scent that sent him off to sweet dreams most nights. And also the one that set fire to the blood in his veins. His be-all and end-all. He turned around, and there she was, standing behind him, looking a little lost and shy, and he could barely refrain from just taking her in his arms and trying to make everything better.
"Are you.., Spike?" she asked tentatively. He had to be, of course, he looked exactly the way he did in the photographs, but she wasn't sure how else to strike up a conversation with him. It felt strange, having to ask his name when she was pretty sure that she was married to him.
Spike made a sweeping bow. "At your service, beautiful lady." He got an idea, and once it was there, he just couldn't resist. "Probably way out of line and all that, being the hired help tonight, but would you like to dance with me?"
She smiled at him, and while it wasn't the special smile that was his and his alone, it was Rose, well, happy, and smiling at him, and for the moment, that was enough. It would have to be. "I'd be delighted to dance with you," she replied. "And by the way, you can call me Lily."
As Spike pulled her into his arms and out onto the dance floor, he murmured low, for her ears alone. "I'd rather call you Rose."
She looked up into his eyes. "Is that really my name?" she whispered back.