A/N: Thanks for the reviews, my adoring public!
God, she hated those stupid vampires! With their stupid coats and stupid hair and stupid egotistical attitudes! I mean, who did they think they were anyway? Keanu Reeves and Kiefer Sutherland? Not hardly.
She sometimes got so mad she thought she might tear down a whole building and this was one of those times. One more thing and she was going to go over the edge, she decided as she stormed through the corridor outside Angel's stupid office.
"Hey, Buffy!"
Buffy turned at the sound of her name and halted in her tracks a look of sheer disbelief on her face. Harmony. The vampire. From Sunnydale. Was sitting at a desk in the corridor with a bright smile on her face, wearing a summer dress and twirling a pencil around with her fingers.
"Harmony?" Buffy uttered "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I work here. Angel's my boss. I'm his PA, you know" She beamed "I love you hair it's so...retro"
That was it. Buffy turned on her heel and left before she really did tear the building down. Harmony was working for Angel? Spike was resurrected? Angel was on the side of Wolfram and Hart? No. No. No. It was bizarro world. It had to be.
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Spike walked down the alleyway, sullen expression on his face. He kicked over a nearby bin; taking out his frustrations seemed a better idea then taking them out on Buffy's face. Well, at least it was a better idea because the bin couldn't kick his ass back.
The metal bin clattered loudly against the alley wall and fell with a loud clash on the ground. Illyria turned back and looked at him in that jerky bird-like way. She titled her head, her blue eyes glancing from the mess on the floor to Spike.
"This is not a productive way to hunt," She informed him "It is likely you are alerting any potential targets to our location"
"Yeah? Well, guess what – I don't care" Spike stormed ahead down the alley, purposefully kicking a stray coke can into the wall.
Illyria followed behind, slowly but with an ethereal grace to her. Almost as though she didn't quite walk on the ground, but an inch above it. She kept her eyes forward searching for any signs of the demons they were looking for…or any demons at all.
"This is because of that Slayer you are obsessed with" She commented.
Spike whirled around "I am not obsessed with her!"
"You think about her constantly, you have been known to stalk her and you start to flounce every time she is near, or so I have heard" Illyria carried on down the alley.
Spike gulped open-mouthed like a goldfish "I do not…flounce!"
"I do not see the point of your fixation" She looked back at him "The Slayer is above your station…not greatly, but still she is elevated to a higher position than a mere half-breed. You are not her equal"
"Stations have got nothing to do with it" Spike stormed past her, pointed at her face "You wouldn't understand"
"I wouldn't wish to comprehend what goes on in a mind of a lesser being"
Spike snorted and scanned the alley they were in. There was nothing here. It was another dead end. Not that he was surprised. This was bloody useless. Spike turned and entered a main street; he had a quick look about and then turned into the next alley. Citizens of L.A wouldn't pay much attention to a blue woman walking about in a skin tight leather cat-suit. There were stranger things to be seen.
"Out of curiosity – why are you preoccupied with this Bufufu?" Illyria turned into the alley with him.
Spike glared at her "It's Buffy. And I'm preoccupied with her because I love her"
"She kills your kind"
"Yeah, well" He dug his hands in his pockets "Never killed me so I got no problem with that"
She blinked "This is the same Slayer your leader is in love with, is it not?"
"Angel is not my leader! He just likes to think he is. I don't work for Wolfram and Hart, I'm just trying to do the right thing…whatever it takes" Spike stalked down the alley "But, yeah, it's the same Slayer. Buffy Summers – Slayer of vampire's hearts" he snorted.
"Then what can you hope to gain from this?"
He stopped and turned to her "What's that mean?"
"Clearly, if the Slayer were to choose between you she would not choose you"
Spike's face showed outrage "Oh, is that right? You're an expert now are you? I don't bloody think so!"
"Angel, while still just a half-breed, is the stronger of you," Illyria kept on moving past him "He has higher status, Wesley reports to me that he was her first love. I have learnt over these years that that is considered to be of some consequence"
"He is not stronger than me. I kicked the snot out of him, didn't anyone tell you about that?" Spike asked, annoyed "And I've killed two Slayers. Angelus? None"
"Really"
"Yeah!" Spike said, puffing his chest out.
"Why would the Slayer wish to be with one who has killed her heritage?" Illyria spoke slowly, considering "You both mutually killed each other's kind. That would usually mean battle not love"
"It's complicated" He answered "And what would you know about love, Blues Clues?"
Illyria narrowed her eyes at him briefly then she kept moving forwards, gliding and generally having that godly grace about her. Spike watched her, remembered back when that body had belonged to Fred. Fred. She was the first person he could talk to when he came back from the dead. He had liked her. She seemed sweet and humble, had a brain on her that Einstein himself would envy. And she had tried to help him. To him, Illyria was not Fred in any way, just because she walked around in a shell that had once resembled Fred did not make her Fred. Winifred Burkle was gone, and in her place there was just a shell.
"I have learnt much from Wesley" She said finally.
"I'm sure you have," Spike arched an eyebrow and then resumed walking after her down the dank and dingy alleyway "You and Wes been getting on real well of late"
She looked at him, blank-faced "You're implications are not lost on me, white-haired one. I begin to tire of your subtle and not so subtle jibes. Where I come from it would be considered sedition"
"Good thing I'm not from where you are then, ain't it?" Spike snarled.
"You're mood darkens because the Slayer turns her back on you," Illyria looked amused, the corner of one lip lifted "As she always has"
"You know nothing about Buffy and me"
"I see it in your eyes, vampire" She held her hand up, looked at it "It is written in the very fabric of this reality"
Spike rolled his eyes "Great, another crazy prophetic girl"
Just then the radio in his pocket squawked to life. Static sounds filled the air. Spike reached in and pulled it out, hit it a couple of times and then started to shake it. Illyria made a face of disinterest and carried on down the alley.
"Spi-i" The radio crackled with Angel's voice "Re…any thing to…report?"
Spike frowned, talked into the thing "No, and the line's not real clear down this end, Forehead"
"Sp-ke! Don't ca…me that!" Angel sounded mad, which made Spike happy "The line…bad because…down in the sewe…"
"Yeah, I get it. Bad reception. No need to shout, Forehead"
"Spike!" It rang through loud and clear that time.
He smiled "Codenames remember? It's better this way. More, covert, ya know? So, how goes it with you and Bookworm and Dog Sally?"
"You…moron" Angel muttered "Nothin'…to report. Anyone else?"
"Nothin' here so far, Angel" Gunn's voice came down the line "But Lorne's looking in to things. That man has a lot of contacts. Unfortunately they are all either covered in slime or just plain ugly"
"As long…we get somewhere, they can look…Hugh Hefn…for all I care" Angel sighed.
Spike spoke next "Right, Big Green Asparagus and Gunn, keep up the good work!"
"What, I don't get a codename?" Gunn complained.
"Couldn't think of one, mate"
"How about Revolver?" Dawn came over the line "I mean, 'cos you know – it's a gun!"
Spike smiled "Good one, Pint-Size"
"Hey!" Dawn whined "Shut up…Frosty the Punk Snowman!"
Spike gasped.
"Yeah, that's right I went there!" Dawn sounded pleased with herself.
Angel could be heard laughing down the line.
"Well, me and Blue Bertha are coming up blank everywhere" Spike carried on "So, this plan royally bombed, I think –"
"Did you just call me Big Green Asparagus?" Lorne's voice interrupted, he sounded indignant.
"Blue Bertha came up with it, I swear"
"That's it, Frosty! I am gonna follow you around and sing Cher songs to you all day and night" Lorne threatened.
Dawn laughed "You're in for it now, Frosty"
"Guys…serious…only use radios…need to" Angel's voice came out distorted.
"Oh, you're such a party pooper, Forehead" Spike replied.
"Everyone, Angel is right" Buffy Summer's voice rang out loud and clear "This is serious. We've got a serious threat here and joking around is not gonna get our job done faster. Now, unless we have something to report we keep it at radio silence. We check in with each other every fifteen minutes but no talking before that. Is that okay with everyone?"
Lorne spoke first "Absolutely, sorry sweet-cheeks"
"Yeah. Buffy…right. Sorry" Angel sounded apologetic.
"Sorry Buffy" Gunn was next; the radio squeaked a little as he must have taken it from Lorne.
There was a pause.
"Spike" Buffy sounded pissed.
He listened to it. Just the sound of her voice saying his name.
"Spike? Spike are you there?"
God, he wanted her. Not that that was anything new.
"Spike?" She actually sounded worried now.
"I'm here," He croaked "And, you know, this kind of blew the whole codenames idea"
There was a sigh "Radio silence, okay?"
"Got it"
"Oh…and Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"Got any names for me?"
Spike chuckled "I've got hundreds, love"
There was a snort and then the line went dead. Spike smiled, slipped the radio back into his pocket and went after Blue Bertha…uh, Illyria.
A/N: Booya! Yes, I said booya.
