..,And Your Enemies Closer

"Spike, darling, are you almost finished?" Rose's voice came over the hiss of the shower.

"Just one more quick scrub, babe, I promise." Spike had been washing dedicatedly for over forty minutes now, but he was ready to swear that he could still smell the stench of decaying garbage clinging to him.

"You're going to scrub your skin right off," Rose observed, peeking into the shower stall itself. "Please hurry, love. Ariel needs to use the bathroom."

As Rose left Spike to finish up, she thought she heard a grumble over the sound of running water.

"Spend all that money on a fancy penthouse and put only one loo in it."

&&&&&&&

"What am I going to do without Sharkey?" Richard sounded closer to genuine panic now than he had when his 'wife' had disappeared. "I've got to have a campaign manager."

"And I have found a replacement for you, Richard," the old man said soothingly. The boy was extremely high-strung, but he was pushing his Master's patience. "He may not be as politically adept as Sharkey was, but he does have some skills that could be of considerable use."

A figure stepped out of the shadows. A man, medium height, good-looking, with thick, wavy, brown hair. He smiled and held out his hand.

"If you're going to tangle with Wolfram and Hart," he drawled in a soft, Texas accent. "Or, more to the point, Angel, since it seems that you messed around with one of his people, then I'm your guy. I know how he operates."

Richard took the proffered hand, it must be admitted, a bit hesitantly.. He hadn't thought that in making off with Rose he'd be getting the whole weight of Wolfram and Hart set squarely against him. "Pleased to meet you," he muttered a little insincerely, and very obviously uncomfortably.

The man gave a self-deprecating laugh, then flashed a smile that made Richard think that the only time he slept alone was by choice.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "My manners really suck." Again with the smile, and Richard began to wonder if maybe they should trade places. This man seemed to be a born politician. "My name's Lindsey. Lindsey McDonald."

The old man watched the two of them interact and nodded. Young Lindsey did seem like he just might work out.

&&&&&&&&

"Are you sure, Oz?" Alaric asked eagerly. "No more dumb, boring lessons?"

"Just for a few weeks," Oz clarified. "We'll take a little vacation time before we tackle the fifth grade."

"You're the best, Oz." Ariel vowed, tugging on his sleeve until he bent down so she could kiss him. "Can we go to the roller rink?"

The twins had received skates on their last birthday, and going to the rink was rapidly becoming the only way they could get any use out of them. They were becoming less tolerant of the sun at an ever-increasing rate.

"We'll see," Oz replied. "But I can guarantee that we're not going anywhere until the two of you finish your breakfast."

In reply, Alaric stuffed an overly large spoonful of cereal in his mouth, so that the milk ran out of the corners of his mouth in tiny rivulets.

Ariel giggled, but showed a little more restraint in trying to dispose of her breakfast.

Oz sighed.

&&&&&&&

"Do you think this is wise?" Richard gulped and adjusted his tie, but it still felt more like a noose. "I mean, going right in there after they know what I did."

"That's the point," Lindsey replied. "One, it shows that it makes no difference to you what Angel does or doesn't know. Two, it shows that you've got a pair. Three, if you're that gutsy, it may make him think twice before trying anything against you."

"I still wish you were going along, Lindsey," Richard grumbled. He was thinking that speaking at a fundraiser was child's play compared to this.

Lindsey shook his head. "Oh, I have no doubt that Angel and I will tangle before all's said and done," he replied with a half-grin. "But it's way too early in the game to tip our hands yet. Let him think he's just dealing with you for now."

"What exactly should I say to him?" Richard was becoming increasingly aware that he wasn't in full control of things. In fact, a spiteful little voice was whispering in his head, he wasn't in control at all, he was nothing more than a puppet.

"Apologize," Lindsey told him. He then added, in view of Richard's shocked expression. "Not a real apology, he wouldn't buy it for a minute. I'd suggest that you phrase things to give the impression that you're not sorry for what you did, just that you stepped on his toes."

Richard was still looking glum, though. Lindsey laughed and clapped him on the back. "Relax, kid," he advised. "We're going to get Angel both coming and going."

"I didn't realize the purpose of all this was to 'get' Angel," Richard said stiffly. "I was under the impression that we were trying to get me elected to the state senate. I don't intend to turn my campaign into a platform for a personal vendetta on your part."

"The name of the game is get Angel before he gets you," Lindsey drawled. "He already knows that you don't have a problem with taking advantage of a girl with amnesia. You can bet your bottom dollar that he's having you investigated from head to toe. Better find out what you can about anyone on his team." He looked thoughtful. "What about the girl?"

Richard tossed Lindsey the folder. "Sharkey put a team on her, and so, evidently did Havoc & Associates, last year," he informed his new campaign manager. "According to both sources, she doesn't seem to have existed before she started working at Wolfram and Hart, about ten years ago."

Lindsey gave him a long, penetrating look that Richard wasn't sure that he entirely liked. "Why don't you run along and keep your appointment with the nice vampire?" he suggested with a laugh. "I might just nose around a bit, very discreetly, of course. I still have a few acquaintances working in the firm. Maybe one of them can give me the down and dirty on the pretty little lady that somehow manages to have kids by a vampire, but who doesn't seem to have existed ten years ago."

&&&&&&&&

The clack of wood against wood. The now familiar ritual of the daily sparring session. Over the years, little had changed. Although the weapons might change from day to day, there was as much sparring going on verbally as there was physically.

"Kids weren't much interested in their dinner last night," Spike opened up conversationally. "Nice as it was to have Rose to myself for a few hours, you'd best be glad that she was too happy to be back to notice."

Angel had the grace to look a bit sheepish. "We were celebrating," he explained. "Maybe it got a little out of hand." Then, he laughed. "And Rose noticed more than you think she did. She was in my office first thing this morning to give me a good ass-chewing."

Spike laughed, but there was more contentment than humor to it. "That's my girl," he remarked with satisfaction. "The one and only." But the contentment received a check. "Do you think we could find a way to keep people from making off with her all the time?"

Angel fought back a laugh, mainly because Spike was dead serious, and it showed. "It is the first time since she was pregnant," he pointed out carefully. "And no one got hurt this time."

Spike gave an inelegant grunt in reply to the answer that was no answer. "What makes you so bloody damn sure that 'this time' is over yet, you gormless tit? After all, the bad guys are still out and about with nothing to hinder them from getting into mischief."

Angel paused a moment, and it was very nearly his undoing as Spike suddenly decided to pick up the pace. "We're looking into it," he answered a little lamely. "And, we've got a round the clock guard on Rose."

"You do?" It was news to Spike, and he missed a beat. And Angel was right there to take advantage of it. "Thanks for telling me. I'm only her husband. Not to mention head of the department where you got the men."

"And you would have known," Angel said, ever so sweetly. "If you would just once, just once, read what you're signing. I actually thought you might have this time, seeing how quickly the requisition went through."

Spike looked positively chagrined. "Caught me doin' the monthly paperwork," he muttered. "You seen one piece of paper, you've seen them all."

Angel sighed. "Spike, do you really need to hear my 'read what you sign' lecture again?" he asked. "It's not for my benefit, or even yours, at least not entirely. That paper could just as easily have been orders to turn Rose over to Richard McDaniels as what it actually was, to guard her against him."

Spike stood there in open-mouthed shock for some moments. Until Angel's staff nearly took his head off. It seemed to jar his brain into some semblance of working order, however. "Oh no, you don't," he snarled. "Bad enough that I let you win the argument, you stupid nit. But there's no way you're gonna win this fight."

&&&&&&&&

"I don't understand it," Rose muttered, half to herself. "I couldn't remember my name, or working here, or my friends. I couldn't even remember Spike and the children. So how on earth did I manage to remember how to read Etruscan?"

Wesley grinned at her. "I wouldn't put any hard cash on it," he mused. "But you do have some friends in high places, Rose. Very high places."

Rose was taken aback. She was so immersed, and so happy, with her human life that she seldom if ever thought of what she had been before. "Friends in high places," she repeated slowly. "I suppose that it's just about possible."

&&&&&&

The man in the security booth clicked off the recorder from research and hurriedly made a copy of the tape. He was betting that Mr. McDonald would be willing to shell out some green for this. Whatever it was. He did want information about Rose Powers. He sighed contentedly. Just like in the good old days.

&&&&&&&

Lindsey sat in his car (his old, beloved pick-up had died an honorable death years ago), on the street just outside the exit of the firm's parking garage. Just being in proximity like this was enough to open a torrential floodgate of memories. Things that, anymore, he saw only in his nightmares.

As he sat and fidgeted, waiting, not only for Richard, but to see if any of the feelers for information he'd sent out hit paydirt, a large, family-type sedan came inching out of the depths of the underground complex. Lindsey looked on with interest.

Behind the wheel was a smallish man. Very ordinary. You could probably pass him a hundred times in a crowd and not notice him twice.

Belted into the back seat, but still obviously extremely boisterous were two attractive children who seemed to be about the same age. Lindsey guessed about six or seven. A blond boy, and a girl who looked like the pictures in the files Richard had given him. So, those must be the kids Rose had with a vampire. As if to confirm his suspicions, and in answer to some ongoing argument, the little boy's face wrinkled and sprouted fangs.

Lindsey smiled and turned the key in the ignition. His sources had a contact number for him, and Richard had driven himself, totally oblivious to the fact that he was being shadowed. He decided to see just what a vampire's kids did to (snicker) kill time.

&&&&&&&&

"Darling Fred is busy in the lab analyzing some very nasty smelling clothes," Lorne announced, sitting down across from Rose. "So I thought I'd see if you'd settle for me."

A pair of dimples flashed into view. "There is no 'settling,' Lorne," Rose scolded gently. "I enjoy spending time with you."

The Pylean leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Those dimples are like a ray of sunshine to the soul, Rosebud," he commented. "Maybe I'll just sit here and bask in the glow."

"Lorne!" Rose's hands clapped over her mouth, and her face flamed red. As the color began to subside, Rose found her voice again. "Why couldn't you just say that you missed me like everyone else?"

The demon's laugh this time rang a little hollow. "I did miss you," he replied. "More than you'll ever know, sweetpea. And it kind of got me to thinking, what if this is the time we don't get her back?"

"Oh, Lorne." Rose's eyes misted over and she reached across the table and took one of his hands in hers. "What ever put such a morbid thought in your head?"

He shrugged. "Years of grinding away in this place, I guess," he answered. "And it's been getting steadily more depressing every year. Between Wes breaking a leg and your little disappearing act, well, it just got me wondering. Is it really all worth it? Or should I just throw in the towel now?"

"You'd leave us?" A tear hung at the corner of Rose's eye, and it seemed to Lorne that it was waiting on his answer to decide whether or not to fall. "What would you do?"

"I'd keep in touch, lambkin," Lorne protested. "It's the work that's getting me down, not you. My friends here are closer to me than my own family. As for the other." Another shrug. "I guess they can always make room for one more lounge singer."

"And you'll just try to turn your empathy off?" Rose asked. "Pretend it doesn't exist? I know the work can be draining, Lorne, but doesn't it make you feel anything at all, knowing that you're making a difference? No matter how small?"

Lorne gave another sigh and got to his feet. "I'm sorry to rain on your homecoming, blossom," he apologized. "That was just me thinking out loud. I promise I won't leave you in the lurch with no notice." He bent down and kissed her cheek. "I'd never leave without saying good-bye first."

Rose watched as he left, thinking that she didn't want him to go at all. And she could probably even persuade him to stay, if and when he decided to make his exit. All it would take would be a few subtle hints and veiled references to her former status.

Lorne's back started to blur, just before it disappeared around a corner, and Rose dashed the tears away. No, she decided. No dirty pool. If Lorne stayed, it would be because he wanted to, not because he felt pressured to. At least, not by her.