Auld Acquaintance

The old man's eyes glazed over slightly as he digested the information. "It may explain why the senior partners were so reticent on the subject," he mused. "Perhaps they truly do not know where she come from either."

"There's more." Richard swallowed nervously, and ran a finger around the inside of his collar, which had suddenly become constrictive. "Her husband is a vampire, who used to be known as William the Bloody, but is now known as..,"

"Spike," the elder finished. "We are acquainted. And you say that Spike is actually married to her?"

Richard nodded and then looked curious. "He was the one she was dancing with," he observed. "The one she left with. Didn't you recognize him?"

The Master looked a little sheepish. "Once I realized he was a vampire, I fear my attention drifted elsewhere. My primary concern was our chosen sacrifice." He thought a while longer. "Besides, it's been over seventy years since I last spoke to him. But Spike could be a problem if he decides to become obstructive. What on earth is he doing working with the one with a soul?"

"According to my reports." Richard shuffled through some papers just to occupy his hands. "Spike now has a soul as well. And I couldn't get a straight answer anywhere about the kids. Except that they look just like their parents and read minds."

The ancient's comical eyebrows shot up until they looked like they would come right off the top of his head. "Children? From a vampire? The dead cannot create life." He seemed to be in shock.

Richard shrugged. Most of this was outside of his experience. "There were a few hints about some kind of prophecy," he muttered. "If you believe in that sort of thing."

"I fear that I must expend some energy on educating you, my boy," the old man chided softly. "The prophecies come from The Powers That Be. And it does make sense," he murmured almost to himself. "For a vampire to father children The Powers themselves would most definitely have had to take a hand."

"The Powers That Be?" Richard echoed. "Who or what are they?"

"Exactly what the name suggests," the old man snapped. "Do try to pay attention, Richard. This is important."

&&&&&&&&

"Phew! What a pong." Spike's nose wrinkled. "With only us and you actually living in the bloody building, shouldn't most of the rubbish be paper?"

Angel shrugged. "Spike, there are departments in this place that I still haven't gotten figured out after all these years. But you get food scraps from the kitchens to the executive dining room, not to mention the break areas. There is some bio waste from R & D, not to mention medical." His nose wrinkled as well. "But none of those are in the section of the building that uses this incinerator. By rights, the only organic waste in here should be from your suite."

Spike sniffed again. "If it weren't for the fact that you'd get jealous, I think I'd leave my clothes in here," he remarked. "They're going to wind up here anyway. Can't imagine getting this smell out of them."

Angel rolled his eyes. "No conceit in your family," he muttered. "You got it all. Can't you see the thing yet? It should be right on top. You couldn't have thrown it away earlier than last night."

"And you'd think that bright orange would stand out like a candle in a coal mine," Spike replied. "Especially since it didn't get chucked until this morning." He stopped to fan himself ineffectually with his hand. "When is it supposed to start getting a lot hotter in here?"

Angel glanced at his watch. "About ten minutes," he answered. "That's assuming that they can't get it shut down before then. I think I'm going to have to have a word with them about fail-safes and safety measures."

"Can't blame them for not anticipating us combing through the tip," Spike said reasonably. "And if it's all the same to you, or even if it isn't, I'm going to assume that they're not going to get it shut down and get my precious hide out of here before I start getting strong feelings of déjà vu."

"I hadn't planned on staying to see the whole show myself," Angel mumbled. He suddenly stopped and pointed. "Is that it over there?"

"Looks like," Spike grunted. He clambered over mounds of trash. "Got it. Now why don't we get the hell out of here? And by the way, are you still on for babysitting?"

&&&&&&&&&

"This is it, Uncle Wes." Ariel clicked the mouse and pulled up a file. "That's what I saw through mummy's eyes when she was with that bad man."

"You're sure?" Wesley asked, although he had no reason to doubt the little girl. And he still found it a little amusing, and utterly charming that no matter how advanced the twins' vocabulary was, nor how many languages they spoke, that their concepts of the universe still tended to be so simply black and white. Bad man indeed.

"Yes, Uncle Wes," Ariel said with a sigh. "I'm sure." She looked at her brother. "Tell him Alaric."

"I thought that you were the only one that saw it," Wesley protested. "Alaric was talking to Oz at the time."

"She put the picture in my head right away while she could still remember it," Alaric supplied. "Like making back-up copies of something. And that's the right one, Uncle Wes." He gave his 'uncle' a pitying look.

"Don't be condescending," Wesley admonished. "It's a most unbecoming trait. Especially in a young child."

The children rolled their eyes and then giggled. Sometimes, it was fun pushing the Watcher's buttons. Particularly when he was being so stuffy, so grown-up, so.., English. They giggled again.

&&&&&&&

"Come on, Spike," Angel urged. "We've got the thing, now let's get out of here. If they didn't manage to shut it down, we'll be toast any second now."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Spike advised. "I'm in no bigger hurry to turn into a little pile of ashes than you are. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt."

"Just get the damn access panel back open," Angel snapped. "Why did you shut it behind us anyway?"

"I didn't," Spike protested. "I'm not that bloody stupid. Or suicidal."

"Well, I didn't shut it," Angel argued. He gave his companion a searching look. "Are you sure that you didn't shut it?"

Spike threw the dress that had caused their troubles at Angel and redoubled his efforts against the access panel. "No," he shouted. "For the last bloody time I did not shut our only way out of this sodding rubbish tip, you big, dumb git." He gave the panel one last desperate thump, and with a squeal of protesting metal, it finally gave way.

They attended to the business of getting the hell out of the incinerator before carrying on their conversation. Once out, the panel itself gave them more food for thought. Not only had someone shut it, but they'd bolted it as well.

"Is it just me?" Spike asked, looking a little unsteady. "Or does it look like somebody wants the two of us out of the way?"

Angel inspected the ruins of the panel and the warped and broken bolts that were, luckily, no match for a vampire's strength. Before he could reply, he heard the whooshing roar that indicated that the fire in the incinerator had been lit. "Much as I hate to agree with you," he said slowly. "I think someone wants the two of us out of the way."

&&&&&&&&

"If all goes as I planned," Sharkey stated smugly. "The two vampires with souls won't be a problem for much longer."

"And exactly what do you mean by that?" Richard asked. He knew that there were certain areas where his sense of what was appropriate had to bend. He'd never realized that there would be so many. "If something happens to them, especially when it's found out that my temporary bride was married to one of them, people are going to start putting two and two together."

"Relax," the manager advised. "I've got an undercover agent planted in Wolfram and Hart. He's been there long enough that no one would even begin to suspect him. I told him that if he saw an opportunity to take it. He called me just a few minutes ago and said that he saw the vampires entering an incinerator. He bolted it shut. Of course, once the vampires are toast, he'll remove the bolts, and it will just look like a strange accident. But entirely an accident. No one's hand involved in it."

"Did you talk it over with the Master?" Richard asked nervously. "I'd hate to initiate something of that magnitude without his say so."

"You have to learn to take a few risks," Sharkey said blandly. "The Master understands that, even if you don't."

"If you're sure," Richard mumbled. He still didn't think it was a good idea. He wouldn't have done it without asking the Master first. Right now, he wouldn't blow his nose without asking the Master.

&&&&&&&&

Fred made a grimace of distaste as she took the hard-won orange dress with gloved hands. "I hope that a shower is next up on the agenda for both of you?" she asked pointedly.

Spike grinned mischievously, and sidled a bit closer to the scientist. "Where's your scientific objectivity, pet?" he asked teasingly. "All just more bits of information for that computer between your shell-like ears."

"I've got enough to deal with just analyzing the dress," Fred replied, taking a few steps back. "Go away, Spike, you reek."

"I'm deeply wounded," Spike intoned sorrowfully. He turned to leave, and, truth be told, take a shower and get some clean clothes when Angel halted him.

"What in the hell did you get into?" the older vampire demanded. "There's something yellow and kind of glowy on your.., on your..," He broke off in horror as he realized just what Spike would have to say about where he'd seen the odd discoloration.

Spike though, was quick enough on the uptake to figure it out without Angel finishing the sentence. "You been checking out my ass again?" he demanded. "You big, bloody pouf. Go do your shopping around at a gay bar."

Angel sighed. "Much as I hate to put a dent in your ego, Spike," he said insincerely. "But something in neon yellow tends to draw the eyes to it. If I thought my eyes were drawn to look at your ass, I'd put them out myself."

"That is weird," Fred murmured. She'd been scoping out the area in question while Angel and Spike had been indulging in their verbal sparring. "Angel, after you get showered, I'd like access codes to check out the schematics on the incinerator system. If I recall, there shouldn't be anything organic in that section of the building."

"That's what I was saying," Angel agreed. "I'll make sure you get the codes, Fred. And now, I think both Spike and I have a hot date with a hot shower."

"Not with those clothes on," Fred ordered. "There's something stranger than usual going on here. And it might all be connected." She turned and fished around in a cupboard for a minute. She returned with a pair of hospital gowns in her hands, and held one out to each of them. "Neither one of you is leaving here with your clothes. Any part of them might contain vital evidence."

"But, Fred, luv," Spike protested weakly. "You can't expect us to go prancing down the corridors in those things." He looked at the proffered garment in excessive distaste, but made no move to take it from Fred's hand.

"That and nothing else," Fred confirmed. "And if you think I'm going to get a kick out of analyzing your underwear, Spike..,"

"Don't wear the stuff," Spike stated, thereby giving Fred more information than even she wanted. "But you'd better make sure you've got the heavy-duty rubber gloves when you handle nancy-boy's boxers."

"I think you've had enough fun at my expense for one day," Angel observed. He gingerly accepted one of the gowns, then looked at Fred questioningly.

"Right where you are," Fred answered, correctly interpreting the look. "I'll turn my back, but I expect everything you're wearing to be in a pile on the floor in front of you when you're done." She paused a moment. "You can keep your shoes," she added magnanimously.

"How bleeding generous," Spike grumbled. "Listen, do I have to strip down in the same room with him? If he was eyeing my ass when I was fully clothed, I hate to think what he's going to look at when I'm in the buff."

"Get over yourself, Spike," Fred advised. "And hurry up and get undressed so I can start analyzing stuff."

&&&&&&&&

"Good thing this isn't a regular work day," Angel remarked, trying to sound as normal as possible. Difficult to do, as the pair of them traipsed morosely down the hall in hospital gowns and shoes. An odd sight, even for Wolfram and Hart.

Spike wasn't having any of Angel's soft words, however. "It's all your bloody fault," he growled. "If you hadn't been looking where you had no business looking anyway, we could have just left the dress behind and been out of there. But no, Sherlock sodding Holmes has to check out my ass first."

"It's not like you're going to miss the clothes," Angel pointed out. "You were going to burn them anyway. For that matter, I was going to burn mine too. And do you honestly think I have any real interest in your ass?"

Spike sighed and gave it up. "If I really thought you were looking at my bum," he muttered. "I'd bloody well stake you."

&&&&&&&

Sharkey's lifeless body hit the floor with a thud.

The spider chittered and squealed, but the old man merely heaved a sigh of mild regret. "The impetuous boy overstepped his bounds, my dear," he remarked. "I realize that he was the last of your children." He reached up and stroked her. "But we can always have more. We have all the time in the universe."