A/N: Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews.  Wanted to post this chapter as a present to all of you, even though my bday was yesterday!  Teehee.  I'm officially 23 now.  I feel so old.  Being old sucks.  Wahhhhh.  But I'm still younger than most of the people in my med school class.  Okay so here's chapter 6, totally Vampires in Love centric chapter.  Btw, I have no idea how the recording industry and music business actually works so I'm just making this up as I go along.  I suppose that's okay, seeing as it's fanfic and all!  Hehe.  Happy holidays and I hope you all enjoy this! :)

Chapter 6: The Catch

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauties!" Wes sang out, drawing back the curtains in the living room of the swanky LA pad he and Spike shared.  Wesley stepped back to survey the damage.  Xander was folded up sleeping in a chair, Riley was draped over a sofa, and Spike somewhere between the futon and the floor.  Sunlight poured into the decadent room, cascading over every shiny bit and bauble they'd bought from the skyrocketing sales of their album.

"Gahhh!!!" Spike cried out, jerking his head up and throwing up his hands to cover his face as the light hit him.  Unaware of his current precarious position, he fell off the futon in the process and landed on the floor as a tangled mass of limbs and sheets.

"It's sunlight, Spike.  You're not a real vampire.  I think you're going to be okay," Wes said rolling his eyes as he cracked a grin.

Spike put one hand on the floor and propped himself up to peer over the coffee table at his little brother.  Eyes squinted he said, "Oi!  What the fuck did you do that for, you wanker!  Do you have any bloody idea what time it is?  I was asleep!"
"And now you're not.  Get up Xander!" Wes replied, while snatching the sheet Xander was wrapped up in.

"No Mommy, just 5 more minutes!" Xander sat up and blinked, suddenly aware of his surroundings.  His voice dropped a notch and he continued, "Uh, I mean, uh.  What the hell?  Yeah, that's what I meant to say!  What the hell did you do that for, Wes?"

Just then the phone rang.  Since it was conveniently located near Riley's head, he awoke with a start.  He jumped of the sofa and was immediately in the fighting stance of a soldier.  "Incoming!" he said, a remnant of his days in ROTC in college.

"Drop and give me 50 soldier!" Spike said, as he watched Riley automatically hit the ground and start doing pushups before the realization dawned on him that he wasn't actually in a barracks.  Spike watched his friend make an ass out himself, as he and Xander collapsed in fits of laughter.  "Dumbass!" Spike managed to choke out, delighted with his joke.

Wes stepped over him to answer the still-ringing phone.  "Hello?  Good morning, Andrew!  Yes they're finally awake, or getting there.  Mmm hmm.  Okay.  Noon?  That's fine, we should be there by then.  Mmm hmm.  Yeah, sure.  Brilliant then!  Noon it is.  Ta!" 

Wesley turned to face his bandmates and said, "All right, everybody up!  No time for lolly-gagging.  Wake up!  We have a meeting with the record company this afternoon and Andrew is meeting us at noon to debrief.  Now get up!"

"Wesley, do you have to be so damn chipper -- or so very British at this hour?" Xander quipped.

Wes raised an eyebrow in reply, a slightly amused and slightly insulted look playing across his face.  It was similar to the expression Spike wore.

"Hey now, moron!  We can't all be so very cool like you.  Hawaiian shirts went out in the eighties," Spike replied.

"Hey Spike, I think Billy Idol wants his look back," Riley said.

"He stole that from me!"

"As I recall Spike, you were 10 and you thought playing with Mum's hair stuff would be a ripping good idea.  I think Dad found you ready to put on her lipstick next," Wesley said.

"TMI!  TMI" Xander yelled.  "Spike with lipstick!  Definitely too much information."

"Wait, are there pictures?" Riley said, "Pictures could be very useful one day."

"Wesley, my dear brother, you seem to forget Dad also found you in Mum's high heels with a feather boa around your neck, singing a Barbara Streisand number.  God, that was funny!  I still remember you kicking and screaming as he dragged you out the door so he could sign you up for fencing lessons!  Trying to man you up, but I don't think it worked."

The phone rang.  Again.  It was Andrew.  Again.  He was calling to make sure they were awake.  Riley got the phone and he didn't sense the slight bit of tension in Andrew's voice as he spoke.  "Yeah, yeah we're up.  Relax Andrew.  I know, we'll be there.  Mmm hmm.  But seriously, on a Saturday?  On the Saturday after we played the Hyperion?  Remind me to thank you once I see you.  Okay, here's Wesley," Riley said, stretching and yawning, handing off the phone.

"Fine, Magic Box first?  Then Wolfram and Hart?  I think that's fine.  But why?  I thought we only had to meet with Magic Box Records today.  Mmm hmm.  I'll let the others know.  Yes, go ahead and send the car around 20 minutes before, we'll be waiting.  Bye," Wesley said, finishing up his conversation.

"What'd he want this time?" Xander asked.

"I think he called to see if we really were awake.  That guy needs to have his stress levels checked.  One of these days he's going to be scared by his own shadow," Riley said.

"It was something about plans changing.  He said it was important.  If you were listening last night, Andrew indicated that we'd probably have to meet with the execs at Magic Box today anyways.  Something about making sure we're prepared before we go into final contract negotiations with Wolfram and Hart for the tour.  But seems like Wolfram and Hart absolutely has to meet with us today," Wes finished.

"That's odd.  That meeting with Wolfram and Hart wasn't until next week," Spike interjected.

"It's probably some stupid meeting about what we want our tour posters to look like or something trivial like if we want peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on our roster -- which we definitely do!" Xander commented.

"Yeah but today?  I thought rock star life was supposed to be cushy and easy.  Can't we hire people to do all that negotiating and advertising for us?  Wait, don't we have people to do all that for us?" Riley questioned.

"I think they're called lawyers and agents.  I was pretty sure we had a couple or twenty of those," Xander said.

"What are you complaining about?  It's not like you ladies had anything planned for today.  You can get your nails done anytime!" Spike joked, struggling to get up.  He stretched and yawned, one hand reaching under his shirt absent-mindedly to scratch his flat stomach.  And then the wave of nausea hit him. "Oh bollocks!" he exclaimed, as he ran for the bathroom.

Riley started moving around as well.  Blinking, he put a hand to his forehead.  "Oh God.  What did we do last night?  More importantly, what did we drink?  Lighter fluid?!"

Wes smiled, "Yeah it was a pretty good concert, wasn't it?"

"Hey how come you're all awake today, and why is it you're suddenly our secretary?  Didn't you drink some of that crap we mixed together last night?" Riley commented.

"Hardly, what do you think I am?  Insane?  I can hold my liquor like a man, but I have no idea what the hell you ponces were doing.  I think there actually might have been lighter fluid involved," Wesley said.

"Well yeah, I mean that was kind of the point.  Celebrate.   That and get Spike drunk off his ass so he wouldn't go do something stupid like call up Drusilla.  I think the nutcase is finally gone this time," Riley said.

"Riley, the point was to make him forget Drusilla.  Not to turn him inside out in the morning," Wesley said quietly but firmly, walking around the room picking up blankets.

Xander and Riley had no response.  They knew better than to try to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal, because it was.  Wesley was the quiet one, the shy one, and of course the youngest.  But somehow he kept the most level head at times.  He was certainly far from boring, but he'd always been a reserved child, especially when their mother had passed away.  He'd seen what alcohol had done to his father, and that was quite possibly why Wesley was so wary of it, unlike most normal 19 year old boys who were just looking for a good time. 

Wesley worried about his older brother.  Spike always seemed so together in life and had always taken care of Wesley as a child, every project, every homework assignment, every bully, every time he didn't have the courage to ask a girl out, everything.  In some ways Spike was his Yoda.  Except for when it came to Drusilla and quite possibly when it came to the alcohol.  It was the only time Wesley ever saw Spike fall apart, another reason why he hated Drusilla as much as he did.  No matter what Spike did, Drusilla always managed to cut him up and tear him down in some way.  And Spike would always turn to something stupid like alcohol or something positive like his music to feel better. 

Wesley'd had a hell of a time getting his brother to cut down on his smoking, somehow getting him to at least try the patch.  After everything Spike had done for him, he still felt responsible for Spike when matters of the heart were concerned.  His brother had never been the most logical person when it came to the fairer sex.

They all turned to hear the gagging from the bathroom.  Riley started turning a peculiar shade of green as well, and quickly excused himself for the other bathroom before matters got worse.  Xander made his way to the kitchen to put on a pot of fresh coffee, knowing that they would all need it to get going.

Wes sighed and turned to check on Spike.  He knocked on the door.  "Are you all right in there, William?" he said, reverting back to Spike's given name.

"I'm fine!  I'm fine!  Don't worry.  I've just got to shower and get some coffee in me," came the muffled reply from the other side of the door.

"Are you sure?  After last night..."

"After last night, what?  Done deal!  We've got more important things to do today.  Stop acting like a nancy, I'll be fine!  Now clean up the living room!"
"Yes, brother dear!" Wesley said.  He waited a moment to hear the shower turn on.  He grinned and snuck his way into the bathroom to flush the toilet.

The shower sputtered and Spike yelped.  "Wesley, I'm going to rip your bloody head off and drink from your brainstem when I get out of here!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Wes ran out laughing and shaking his head.  That's my brother!  Always bounces back somehow.  I hope that bitch stays away this time, he thought as he headed back to the living room.

                                                                                            *    *    *    *    *

An hour later (well an hour and 10 minutes to be exact since Xander spent the extra 10 minutes looking for a Hawaiian shirt, just to bother Spike)...  Anyways, almost an hour later Vampires in Love met Andrew at a coffee shop a few blocks from Magic Box Records.

"Hey guys!  That was a great party last night!" Andrew said, bouncing up and down.  A few lattes littered his table, guilty of fueling his hyperactivity to excessive levels this Sunday morning.  A server came with lunch (well breakfast for the guys) that Andrew had already ordered.

The Vamps looked at their manager in disbelief.  Andrew had slammed back quite a few (girly) drinks for his small frame, and yet here he was, awake, cheery, and looking fabulous.  They all wondered what his secret was.

"All right Drew, let's have it!  Why are we here?" Spike began, pulling out a chair and turning it around backwards before he sat down, spreading out his duster behind him.  God only knew why Spike still had a leather coat on in the middle of summer, but if Linus needed to carry around a security blanket, Spike was entitled to his image-defining coat as well.

"Spike!  Do you not listen to a word I say?  You guys knew we'd have to do some sort of post-show debriefing and if you actually listened to me once in a while you would have remembered.  Or could have at least pretended!" Andrew whined.  "And hey, don't call me Drew!  I hate that name, makes me sound girly, like Drew Barrymore.  But she was so good in Charlie's Angels.  I loved that black ensemble she had on, it was so cute.  I mean, made her ass look so cute!" Andrew finished, emphasis on the last sentence.

"Andrew, I'm sure there are probably laws against holding a debriefing at this hour, so let's get on with this, shall we?" Wesley interjected, trying to move things along.

"Okay, then let's boogie.  First off, excellent show!  Wolfram and Hart loved, loved, loved it!  Totally a money maker.  Second, Magic Box wants to talk details for a DVD for the tour.  We're talking major promotions here!  They're behind this project 100 percent, which is actually pretty amazing since they're agreeing to all the terms Wolfram and Hart are setting forth in their contract to back your tour.  Magic Box is ready to talk licensing, logos, tour posters, ideas for a tour theme, contests, TV and radio spots.  And that's not all!  This is bigger than just music and touring --"

"Bigger than music?" Xander said, raising a skeptic eyebrow.

"You know what I mean.  Of course this is all about the music, but don't forget it's about money too.  Do you realize what a hot commodity you guys are?  Clothing!  Lunch boxes!  Accessories!  Fruit Snacks!  Action Figures!  You guys could be action figures!  Isn't that the coolest?  I wonder if managers get action figures too?  I wonder if they could make me look like a young Luke Skywalker?" Andrew rambled, getting starry eyed.

"Andrew, I know it's about money.  We get that.  We're got to eat, but this is a lot of merchandising we're talking about here.  Aren't you concerned it might look like we're selling out?" Riley asked.

"No, no!" Andrew said, waving his hands.  "It may seem tacky at first, but this is the biz.  It's very complex.  It's never just what you sing or how good you are.  It's always about who you know, who you who can get to know, and who will love you a year from now."

Spiked was irked, "What, you think we don't know that it sure as hell is going to matter if a bunch of screaming girls are still getting their panties in a twist over us a year from now?  This is about the fifth time we've had this conversation.  Do we really have to be involved with every single bloody part of deciding what merchandise is made?"

"Spike, I think if we're going to put our name on something, we'd better be damn sure it's something fun and something safe.  Do you really want to see 'Vampires in Love: the dishwashing liquid!' on TV?" Riley joked.

"Did I mention the website?" Andrew interjected.

"There's a website?" Xander asked.

"Not yet!  But we've got to get working on it.  I called up a friend of mine who's one of the best web developers around -- her company has worked with Green Day, Christina Aguilera, Sting, Santana, Busta Rhymes, to name a few," Andrew continued on.

"Okay, sounds good then.  But do we have to hammer out those details right now?" Xander asked.  Andrew ignored his question and continued on breathlessly.

"It gets better!  MTV wants to do a 'Diary' on you, Oprah loves you guys and wants you to perform, and you might have the covers of the next Rolling Stone, Spin, and Seventeen!  Maybe even PC World too, I bet I could swing that," their manager babbled, scratching his chin absently.  "You're also scheduled to do 'Conan' and 'Good Morning America' in the next few weeks, and Miramax wants you to do a track for the next Sarah Michelle Gellar movie," Andrew finished.

Wes began, "Slow down!  Isn't this getting a little out of hand?  I mean we're literally --"

"Blowing up?  Yes, you guys have arrived!  This is celebrity at it's goriest, most decadent, and it's perfect.  This is going to mean a lot, and I mean a lot of money for you guys.  Everyone wants you and in every single country across the globe.  This is nothing short of awesome," Andrew ended breathlessly, green dollar signs dancing in his eyes.

"I guess it can't be all bad, Sam can finally have that big wedding that she wants," Riley said, letting the information sink in.

"I guess there is the distinct possibility that I could still be interested in going to Harvard Law in a few years," Wesley said.  The guys stared at him for a moment before he shrugged and said, "What?  The lot of you doesn't need to look so shocked.  You know I like my books."

"I know, isn't this great?  It's bigger than you, than me, than anything Magic Box or Wolfram and Hart ever intended.  Early sales numbers and market trends show that you guys are going to be one of the dominant forces of the next fiscal year," Andrew said.  He slowed down a bit and became serious all at once, "This really is amazing, guys.  This is the big time, you've made it.  You never have to worry about being struggling musicians ever.  You'd be legends.  This is big."

"And how about kind of overwhelming?  How are we supposed to make any of these decisions?" Xander said, a little worried.

"Not to worry, Xander.  I'm sure Andrew has got enough connections and enough minions to dance for us, isn't that right?" Spike said, narrowing his eyes.

"Well of course, we've got enough people working for you guys now that it shouldn't be an issue.  I was just so excited and had to fill you in on the whole gist of things so you'd be ready for the meeting."

"Then why do I think that there's something else you're not saying?  I'm getting the feeling we've just been buttered up," Xander said.

"What else could there be?  This is all good news," Riley asked his bandmate.

"No, there is something else.  Andrew, what's the catch?" Spike asked curiously.  He'd lived long enough to know that with the good always came the bad.  With the yin came the yang, with the hot came the cold, with the sour came the sweet.  This wasn't it.   There was something else.

"Catch?  What do you mean?" Andrew said, a little nervous.  He wasn't too fond of Spike's temper some days.

"What.  Is.  The.  Catch," Spike repeated, his voice low and hard.  "There's always a catch.  Nothing in this life is without a price.  Do we have to sign away our souls or something?"

Andrew looked down at his hands for a moment, inspecting an imaginary hangnail before opening his mouth.  He sighed.  "Okay, I was hoping I wouldn't have to mention this to you, because it's really not that big of a deal.  I mean it's just a minor, little, teensy weensy snafu."

"Andrew," Wesley said.

"Okay!  Okay!  I give!  Youhavenoopeningband," their manager said, his resolve breaking slightly.

"What was that?" Riley asked, confused.

"I said that you guys don't have an opening act," Andrew sighed.

"But how can that be?  We played with Parker's Love Machine last night," Spike rolled his eyes and mumbled, " God how I hate that bloody name," before continuing, "What about those buggers?  Wasn't Magic Box promoting them as the next Jimmy Eat World?"

"Like I said, you have no opening band.  They were arrested last night for drug trafficking and running an illegal pirated music and software ring.  The offenses are likely going to be tried as felonies.  We won't be seeing them for a while.  A long while," Andrew said, relaying the grim news.

"What?!  Felonies?  This isn't going to affect us in any way is it?" Wesley asked, very concerned.

"It shouldn't.  You were in no way involved, there's no proof of you even knowing more than what I've told you right now.  No one really knew what was going on.  I know you'd been rehearsing with them for a while for this tour, but your communications with them were strictly business and always in the presence of several witnesses.  Worst case scenario, it may have some negative public backlash but Magic Box and I've got a team running damage control right now," Andrew finished.

"All right, so potentially bad situation, but we know we're innocent, the public knows it, and we've got some hot shot lawyers doing their stuff.  This isn't a big deal, right?  It's not like they were that good anyways," Xander said.

"It is and it isn't.  It isn't a big deal since none of the lawyer type stuff has any bearing on you.  But we're running into a major snag with Wolfram and Hart.  They're one of the biggest tour promoters in the biz.  They have contacts and connections like you could only dream of.  If they do the legwork for your tour and fund you, your career is definitely a sure thing.  You would have mass market appeal, you could break into acting, into writing, politics, basically whatever you wanted to do since they are that big a corporation.  Because you've had good album sales, naturally the next step is the tour, so a lot is weighing on setting this up," Andrew explained.

"Get to it, Blondie," Spike growled.

"Basically, we've got two options here.  Plan A, you all find someone else to play with you or Wolfram and Hart drop you all together.  Remember they're already started to book some preliminary dates and started to generate media buzz.  Most companies are tied up for the same tour block that you want, so we'd be looking into some time a year from now if you'd want to start touring for this current album.  That's time you don't have to waste.  They don't want to do that.  They are giving you the option to find your own replacement for Parker's Love Machine, so that you'll have an opening act.  You cannot tour without a band to warm up the crowd and start things off.  It's in the contract.  But if you don't find someone and still want to stay with the tour, then Plan B is executed," Andrew said.

"Plan B?" Riley asked.

"Plan B is that they pick someone for you.  And I'm pretty sure you guys won't go along with Plan B.  If you don't find an opening act you're going to be stuck with teen pop sensation Kennedy as your opening act.  And there's a distinct possibility that you could be opening for her instead.  She's the daughter of a California Congressman and Wolfram and Hart would have all sorts of legal lobbying power if they backed a tour for her.  Like I said, they're a big company.  They have holdings in the restaurant business, in the clothing industry, the semiconductor/technology sector, basically everything imaginable.  They've got nothing to lose if they drop you guys, and everything to gain if they go with Kennedy," Andrew continued.

"Kennedy?  Teenager, endless brown hair, annoying voice?  Didn't we see her at some movie opening a while ago?" Xander said.

"Yes, that's her," Andrew said.

"No!  No fucking way!  That bint?  Touring with us?  I'd rather scratch my own eyes out!" Spike exclaimed.

"Oh God, I remember her!  I've heard her sing.  She sounds like a drowned cat!  Someone needs to put that girl out of her misery," Wesley said in agreement.

"Hold on a minute, this really isn't that hard to fix.  So big deal, we find a new opening act and all this is squared away.  We don't have to worry about Kennedy and we don't have to worry about being dropped by Wolfram and Hart," Riley replied.

"Well, it's not going to be that easy," Andrew said, suddenly very uncomfortable.

"There's more?  I am going to kill Parker if I ever see him again," Xander said.

Andrew ran his hands through his hair, a very stressed mask covering his normally jovial face, "There's more.  You have exactly 1 week to find a replacement band."

"One week?  How the hell are we supposed to that?  Have you heard the nonsense out there today?" Wesley said.

Andrew sighed.  "That's it, one week.  But guys, calm down.  This is why our friends at Magic Box want to meet with us after this.  They're going to help out too, they're got a few bands they're been trying to work with.  Landing a contract with Wolfram and Hart for one of their bands would be a big deal for them too, considering they're a relatively young record company.  They want to help too, so you've got to be calm at this meeting.  That means you Spike," Andrew said with a pointed look at the notoriously outspoken rocker.

Spike shook his head in disbelief.  "I'm not that stupid!  I know full well Magic Box could stop producing our album and pull it off the shelves if they really wanted to.  Looks like they got us by the short hairs this time," he said, rubbing a hand across his forehead.  He banged a fist down on the table all of a sudden, "Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!  First Dru.  Now this.  What's next?  Bloody hell."

"One fucking week!  Hello, do they realize we're not exactly magicians here?" Xander said.

"And I've heard some of those so-called 'bands' Magic Box has waiting in the wings, and quite frankly they all suck!" Riley exclaimed.

"So how does this work?  Say we find a new band in a week's time; it's not going to be only our say right?" Wesley asked.

"Well most of it will be up to you.  They've got enough faith that you know what you're looking for and don't want to hassle with it at the moment.  Like I said, Wolfram and Hart have a sure thing with Kennedy anyways.  It's up to you to find a band that you like, Magic Box needs to sign them, after some type of informal auditions, and Wolfram and Hart will come in with the final go ahead in a few weeks.  It's a sticky situation, but it's definitely workable," Andrew said.

"Bloody hell," Wesley cursed.

They were all silent for a moment, letting the reality of the situation sink in.  What seemed so simple 2 days ago had become a complex web of insanity.  They were definitely between a rock and a hard place and it was no longer a measure of how good a band they were, but a stupid game of musical chairs and politics. 

"Fine," Spike said after a few moments.  "Let's go find ourselves a bloody opening act.  And this time they'd better have a decent name."

"Or at least be hot," Xander joked, trying to ease the tension.

The five got out of their seats and walked off to do some strategic planning.  It was crunch time.

A/N: Hey long chappie, right?  Did you enjoy?!  I hope so! :)