Prince Charming
The Master stood in the shadows on the upper level of the convention center, far from the crowds. It was not difficult for him to pick out the chosen sacrifice, the brilliantly hued dress she wore made her stand out even in a room full of brightly colored peacocks. He studied her as carefully as he could from his far-off vantage point. Pretty, which was nice enough, but not strictly necessary. Still, it spoke well of those making the offering that they were willing to go the extra mile to make an attractive sacrifice. Graceful, certainly. That became quite apparent when she took to the dance floor with.., a vampire? He looked again, as if he thought his eyes might be deceiving him. But no, all the signs were there. The leather-clad figure currently dancing with the sacrifice was most definitely a vampire. His eyes roamed across the room, seeking out Richard only to find him speaking with yet another vampire. How many of them were there?
&&&&&&&
Spike smiled at down at the woman in his arms. Somehow, one dance had become two, and then, they had just carried on, dancing because the music was playing. And it felt bloody good, having Rose in his arms. He could just stay like this all night, dancing, breathing in her scent. His idea of heaven. But she was asking him a question.
"Are those children really ours?" He could understand all the questions, but it galled him no end that she had to ask them.
"You could look at those pictures and think that they weren't?" he countered teasingly. "'Course they're ours, pet." His expression softened, became sentimental. "Ariel looks just like you, babe."
She flushed slightly. "Do you have to do that?" she asked softly. "I know you know me, but it feels a little.., strange, having you use endearments like that."
Another twist of the knife in his gut. This whole evening so far was taking the whole pain/pleasure thing way too far in his estimation. For every bit of enjoyment he got out of it, it seemed that the fates demanded their pound of flesh in return.
She saw the look in his eyes, and it touched a chord with her. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Spike. It's just all so much all of a sudden."
"It's all right," Spike assured her. "According to the docs, memory loss like yours doesn't happen often and usually don't last." He glanced at the time and realized that it was drawing towards the hour that she was supposed to sing. Time for them to make their exit. "Are you ready to do the fast fade, luv?"
"I guess so." She looked around nervously, the very picture of guilt.
Spike laughed. "Word of advice, sweetheart." He bit his tongue, but it was too late. He'd been calling her pet names for a number of years now. Hard habit to break, and he didn't really much care to try. "Move like you've got every right to be doing what you're doing, which, by the way, you do. You look so guilty right now, a cop would haul you in just because you look so suspicious."
She favored him with a nervous smile. "I guess it's because I'm so new to this. This cloak and dagger business," she apologized. "I'll try to do better."
Spike shook his head. "You never could sneak about.., Rose." Good, he remembered that time. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable. He just wanted her back, no matter what the cost. "You're a lousy liar."
"You make that sound like a bad thing," she accused teasingly. She did feel strangely at ease with him, but she just couldn't remember him.
"It is when your life depends on the lie," Spike remarked. "And it just might, this time. Don't see that they could stop us, legally, but seein' as how they were planning to sacrifice you to a demon, I don't think we'd better count on having the law to lean on."
"But what if someone sees me leaving with you?" she pressed. "Someone who knows me as Richard's wife?"
"Then they'll think you went and got yourself a major upgrade," Spike replied with a smirk. He suddenly revised the plan that they had been playing to, which had been that he would discreetly escort her to a side exit, and hand her over to Val who would get her to the relative safety of Wolfram and Hart. But this, this was better, because it didn't involve sneaking, which Rose was incredibly bad at. He wasn't sure she'd be any better at this, but at least he'd be there beside her the whole way. Which was a big plus to his way of thinking. He tucked Rose's arm possessively into his and sauntered across the floor with her, putting on a little extra swagger for show. But he did feel almost that good. Would if only she could remember him, even just a little bit.
&&&&&&&
Angel saw Spike boldly walking out with Rose on his arm instead of making the discreet exit that they'd planned. He just barely managed not to show that it registered with him. Not since he was busy maintaining polite conversation with Richard McDaniels and his campaign manager. But he was definitely going to have a word with Spike about changing plans in mid-stream. Unless, of course, something went wrong. If that happened, which, god forbid, he figured he wouldn't have to say a thing. Spike would be too busy beating himself up about it. But what in the hell was he up to?
&&&&&&&&
A frown crossed the Master's face as he saw the sacrifice begin to leave with the vampire she'd been dancing with. That would never do. It was almost time for her to call forth Hramaas, the demon key that would open a portal to personal power for the one who knew how to acquire it. Which, he did. Even his son was expendable in the cause of his obtaining power. Not that Richard knew that he was his son. Or much of anything else. Nor did he have any intention of telling him. He still had plans for pliable, biddable Richard.
&&&&&&&&
Val gaped open-mouthed as Spike breezed right on past him. By now, Rose should have been alone, and Spike should have been back in the main room of the convention center, being visible. He raced to catch up with the twosome.
"Spike, I thought I was going to take her from here," Val reminded him.
"Change of plans," Spike said smoothly. "And if my nancy-boy grandsire asks..,"
"Oh no," Val demurred. "I am not taking an ass-chewing from Angel for you, Spike. Not even for Rose." He paused to flash Rose a grin.
"Well," Spike grumbled. "If you're not going to be of any use, then get the hell out of my bloody way so I can get her out of here before they catch on to us and try to make her do that demon-summoning spell anyway."
"Do you really think they could?" Rose asked nervously. She looked over her shoulder as if expecting to see Richard and heaven knew only who or what else in hot pursuit.
"Of course not, babe," Spike soothed. "I wouldn't let them." Almost of its own volition, his arm went around her waist protectively, and in response, her head seemed to drift automatically to rest on his shoulder. Dozens of thoughts and images raced through Spike's mind, but he suppressed most of them and concentrated on the business at hand which was to get his precious Rose out of this place. There'd be time for other things later. The priority now was to make sure that there would be a later.
&&&&&&&&&
Richard felt a tingling on the back of his neck that made the hairs thereon stand on end. He looked around carefully and saw a pair of almost-glowing eyes, beckoning to him from the shadows. He quickly and diplomatically bowed out of the current conversation with the very real excuse that he needed to circulate amongst all the guests, then joined his Master in the gloomy corners.
"She is leaving, Richard," his Master informed him. "There was a vampire in a long, leather coat that she was dancing with. She is leaving with him, and it is almost time for her to call forth my key to power."
"Vampire?" Richard had missed the pertinent part of the communication. "The head of Wolfram and Hart's security team is a vampire?"
The Master sighed in impatience. "There was more than one vampire here," he explained, planning to rain all sorts of mayhem on Richard's head for allowing his plan to go awry. "Including the tall, dark one that you were speaking with."
"Angel?" Richard truly was aghast. He would have to see if there was a way that he could learn to identify vampires on sight. Although, to be honest, before tonight, he wouldn't have thought that that particular talent would ever be of much use. "The CEO of Wolfram and Hart's L.A. office?"
"So that's who he is," the Master muttered. "Richard, I may have done you a disservice. I have obviously sent in a boy to do a man's work. The vampire with whom you spoke has a soul."
"And that means, what, Master?" Richard was totally at sea. The Master had gone to a great deal of effort to see that he had had a relatively 'normal' life. Outside of his own contact, that is.
"It means," the Master snapped. "That a creature who should be the epitome of self-centered evil considers himself to be a champion for the weak and helpless. No doubt that is why he arranged to have our sacrifice spirited away. Now, the question is, how did he find out about it? What have you told these people who work at Wolfram and Hart?"
"Only what I would have told them under normal circumstances, Master," Richard protested. "I had no reason to inform them of any of our plans. As for Rose, all they knew was that I told them she was my wife and that I wanted her to sing here. They didn't even know what she was going to sing."
The Master nodded thoughtfully. "Find out what you can, Richard," he directed. "Galling as it is, I can see that we shall have to find a different sacrifice. But how will it affect your political career, having lost a wife as suddenly as you acquired her?"
Richard shrugged uncomfortably. "I'll talk to Sharkey," he muttered, referring to his campaign manager, who was privy to what was going on. "I'll see what he says. He's had a lot of experience in politics."
"See that you do," the Master ordered. "But I really would like to know what it is that is so special about that one that even the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart step lightly around her. See what else you can find out about her, Richard. Especially what she was doing before she became employed by Wolfram and Hart."
Richard ducked his head subserviently and backed away. After a heart to heart with the Master concerning a screw-up, even though he had come through it relatively unscathed, schmoozing the backers and lobbyists seemed like a day at the beach.
&&&&&&&&&
"Chin up, pet, keep that pretty smile in place, we're almost out of here." Spike keep up a soothing flow of directives, trying to keep Rose's nerve and spirits up. "You're doing fine, babe, no one's the wiser, so far."
She turned to smile up at him. "You really don't think about it, do you?" she asked. "All the pet names and endearments. You're so used to them that they're automatic."
Spike looked a little sheepish. "I guess so," he admitted. "I really don't want to make you uncomfortable though. It's just that it's part of the way I talk. Calling you sweet nothings, calling Angel a ponce and a git. All sorts of things. It's taken me over seven years just to clean up my language a bit, in front of the kids. Never did quite see the point of that, though."
Her brow wrinkled in thought. "Why wouldn't you be able to see that point of not swearing in front of children?" she mumbled. "I would have thought that one was a no brainer."
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "You've been talking a bit different," he remarked. "Not too sure that I care for it. As for not swearing in front of the kids, it don't really matter when they can pick it right out of your head."
"They read minds?" It seemed bizarre, and a little frightening, but she was quickly becoming inured to it. Very quickly. "How on earth do you handle it?"
A thoroughly shamefaced Spike laughed nervously. He'd been specifically told not to tell her all this stuff, that she had to remember it on her own, and here he was, just blurting it all out. "You just kind of learn to ignore it," he muttered, looking down.
"Spike?" She was looking up at him again, and while it wasn't the loving look he had grown smugly accustomed to, it was a trusting one. "Are we.., were we..," She suddenly seemed to have trouble speaking, and a crimson flush was working its way up her face. Finally, she took a deep breath and just blurted it out. "Are we anywhere nearly as much in love as it looked in those pictures?"
He'd been just about to hand her into the car, but even though he knew it was against the doctor's suggestions, he just couldn't resist leaning down to brush his lips across hers. Soft, gentle, unhurried. "The pictures don't even come close," he whispered, still within kissing distance, although he refrained from breaking protocol again. At least, that was his intention. Rose, however, had other ideas. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a truly serious kiss, and after the first half-hearted protest, Spike gave in and cooperated with the inevitable.
They finally broke apart, reluctantly. Rose looked up into Spike's eyes and smiled at him. His smile. The one that she had for him and him alone. "Spike, darling, please take me home."
It suddenly occurred to Spike what had just happened. "I'll be damned," he said softly, sliding in behind the wheel, more eager than ever now to get her home. "Just like in the fairy tales, hey, luv?"
"Just like in the fairy tales," Rose agreed. "Good heavens, what a ghastly dress this is. I think one of the first orders of business when we get home is for me to get changed."
"Well," Spike drawled. "I'm definitely all for you slipping into something more comfortable." He was smirking uncontrollably, especially when Rose started blushing again. "I missed you, babe."
"I missed you to, love," Rose replied. "Now don't you think we should get out of here before someone notices that I'm gone?"