Blood Bonds
by Sage Darkwoods
Disclaimer: The characters in this story that were created by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy belong to them and them alone. No infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
Author's Note: Thanks to Arkaidy and Sorsha, who looked over my stuff and gave me ideas after I left Cassie in the lobby for three weeks. Thanks also to tvnerdgirl, whose review gave me another swift kick in the ass to get this thing fixed, and moving again after months. Additional thanks to Rick Springfield, who did not continue playing the role of Nick Knight once the series started. If you've seen the 80's movie/pilot, you know what I'm talking about. ;)
Chapter 7: Arrivals
Nick shifted in his seat once more. He hated airplanes. There was nothing more uncomfortable than sitting in one seat with limited legroom for so many hours. He wished he had just flown by himself to Los Angeles. A glance sideways reminded him of why he didn't. Natalie had wrapped up what was left of her sandwich in disgust.
"Not liking the food?" Nick asked, bemused.
"The bun is dry," she began, stuffing the wrapping into the bag the lunch came in. "The lettuce was wilted. And beef should not be grey with iridescent streaks, no matter how much they try to disguise it with mustard." She looked sideways at him. "You know, the DeBrabant Foundation should be able to do something about the food."
"I'm not usually thinking about food," Nick replied by way of explanation. "Besides, you chose to come here instead of flying Knight Airlines."
"You know why." She turned to look at him, meeting his blue eyes with her brown ones. "Although that would be very Superman-Lois Lane of you, the probability of me freezing to death, or suffocating, is too great."
"Could you say that a little louder, Nat? I don't think the pilots heard you," he hissed.
"Fine, fine." She sank back into her chair, readjusting the disposable travel pillow behind her head. "I'll be glad to get to L.A., and get Cassie, and talk some sense into her." She poked at the thin pillow some more, then deemed it useless and left it in her lap.
"Do you think that'll work?" Nick asked. "I mean, she takes after you an awful lot –." Nick was cut off by a well-placed travel pillow to the face. He put up his hands in defeat. His point was valid. There was no talking sense into Natalie, either. The two women in his life were equally stubborn, which had its merits. The stubbornness led to determination and passion for their work, something he didn't think Cassie would give up easily. No matter how long Nat and Cassie fought over the issue, their points of view about research methods would differ. He would be glad to get to L.A., too, if it meant someone else would have to suffer the Wrath of Natalie besides himself.
It was after six when Cassie returned to Wolfram & Hart. The doorman, who looked like he had gills, waved her in. Apparently, security wasn't a big issue here. She had eaten a burger at a diner down the street, and really should have returned it for its inability to be edible. Her stomach was now grumbling its complaints loudly. A demon – she was still getting used to that – grumbled back to her stomach in response, and waved a claw at her. She wondered briefly what her stomach said, and in what language.
Lorne came down the stairs, with his assistant on his tail. Did he have an actual tail? Cassie thought it might be rude to ask. He was talking animatedly on his cell phone, and his assistant was jotting down notes in his PalmPilot.
"Carmen Miranda baby, relax! I'm sure Dave wasn't doing anything with her." A pause. "A stripper, huh?" Another pause. "But she was the entertainment at your bachelor/bachelorette party! You had quite the time smacking her ass, from what I remember." A longer pause, and this time Cassie could hear the high-pitched shrieking from the other line. "Well you looked cuter in that corset, anyway. I'm sure things will work out. I'll keep in touch, alright doll?" He hung up and breathed a sigh of relief.
"So, cancel the interview on MTV with the Dark Newlyweds?" his assistant asked, a slight smirk on his face.
"Double that," Lorne replied. "Speaking of doubles, I could use one right now. To the wet bar for something tropical?" He noticed Cassie then, and spread his arms wide. "Hey kitten! Just couldn't stay away, could ya?" he greeted her genially. "Dan the Man and I are about to partake in some liquid forgetful. Care to join?"
She shook her head. "Thanks anyway. Last night I had so much I nearly forgot my name." She took a cursory glance around the foyer. "Is Spike around?"
"Blondie Bear is your drinking buddy?" the green demon asked incredulously. "And you're still alive?"
Cassie winced. "Is he really that dangerous?"
"Well, not really," he replied casually. "I've seen him drink. I just thought you might end up with alcohol poisoning." He laughed good-naturedly, as if he just made a joke about the weather. His cell phone rang again, and he raised a finger to excuse himself. "Dave? Yeah, I heard. Look, we'll sort it out." The last thing Cassie could catch before Lorne walked out of earshot was, "They were that big? They're practically regulation-sized basketballs!"
Left alone in the lobby, she decided to see if anyone was at the front desk. To her surprise, she found Harmony working reception. She was on the phone, but was concentrating on painting her nails a garish shade of pink. "Yeah, uh-huh… Yep. Got it. He'll know right away. Yes. Of course. Yes. Goodbye now!" She hung up the phone and rolled her eyes. "Geez, who ate his sacrificial baby for breakfast?" She looked up to find Cassie standing in front of her, with eyebrows nearly touching her hairline, a nervous smile on her face. "Hey, Cass! How are you tonight?"
"Erm, better, thanks." She glanced around. "Where is everybody?"
"Dinner rush," she explained, capping the polish. "A lot of our clients can't come out until after dark, for obvious reasons." The foyer was nearly empty, save for a few suits wandering around on their cell phones. It seemed as though business was conducted entirely on the phone here.
"Is Spike around her somewhere?"
"He should be in the training room with Illyria," she replied, checking her watch. "It's about the time he gets his regular dose of being beat up." Harmony gave her directions, and waved as she went to answer the phone again.
Despite the directions, Cassie wandered the corridors for nearly an hour. She had found the same room three times, all of which were not where she wanted to be. She swore the rooms must move by themselves, and she should have left a trail of breadcrumbs behind her. Perhaps they were like the places in the Labyrinth, where little beings came and moved them around, saying something like "Your mother was an aardvark!" Cassie finally found the doors labelled Operational Training and Research, and went to knock. The second door flew open, and Spike tumbled out, stripped down to a pair of black jeans and his combat boots. "Thass right, little Bluebird, a little more o' that!" he slurred, as he wiped the blood from his mouth. He ran back into the room, leaving the door open. Through the door Cassie could see Spike landing a punch on a leather-clad woman with blue streaks in her hair. She blocked his second punch with her hand, and pushed back until he fell to the ground. He swept a foot out and knocked her to the ground. Cassie stared at the scene, open-mouthed.
"Impressive technique," the woman commented passively. "You are learning well from the punishment I have dealt." She began a sidestepping circle, and tilted her head slightly. Cassie found it disturbing to watch, like a panther circling its prey.
Spike picked himself up and mimicked her circling. The panther's prey was also a predator. "You call that punishment?" he mocked. "My ol' grannie used to throw a better punch than that!"
The woman tore her attention from Spike to Cassie. "Who are you, and why do you intrude on us?" she demanded. Cassie involuntarily squeaked.
Spike turned to look, and smiled as much as he could with a slightly dislocated jaw. "You might want to catch a better glimpse up there, luv." He pointed at a spot up on the opposite wall. There was a room near the top of the wall, with an observation window looking into the octagonal room. She nodded, and went to the door a few feet over.
In the room above, she found a lot of technical equipment and a computer. She also found Wesley and an absolutely gorgeous, tall black man. Wesley smiled at her and waved her in with his clipboard.
"Miss Harvey, I'd like to present Charles Gunn," he said, gesturing to the other man. He stood about 6'3, and was shaved bald. He was wearing a nice pair of dark denim jeans, and a khaki green hoodie. His slightly off-centre smile and firm yet gentle handshake was in danger of melting her heart.
"Call me Gunn," he said, still smiling.
"Cassie," she replied, and was proud of herself for keeping the stammer out of her voice.
"Wes here was telling me about your work. I'm impressed."
She could not, however, prevent the blush from creeping across her cheeks. "It's, ah, really interesting." A master's degree on the way, and all she could say was 'interesting'? She slapped herself mentally.
Down in the training room, Spike and Illyria had each gotten in a few good hits, with Wesley recording progress as they went. He checked biorhythm counts and elevations in blood pressure, and other important sciencey stuff. Spike had Illyria in a chokehold for about two seconds before she flipped him over her shoulder.
"You are getting sloppy," she commented. "Is it because of that human woman that came in here?"
"What, Cassie? Nah," he dismissed it, jumping to his feet. "I'm just throwing your guard off." He flexed his forearms and got into a battle stance again. "Come on, now's no time to be shy. Bring it, missy."
Illyria sneered, and launched into a series of swift jabs, most of which he managed to block. The last one to the solar plexus sent him staggering back a few steps. "You are not fighting back as much as before." She tilted her head to the side. "Are you tiring?"
"Not on your life, Bluebird." He cracked the vertebrae in his neck and stretched his shoulder blades. "Just testing ya. That's why we're here, 'member. Gotta make ol' Wes up there work for his pay." He glanced up to the booth where Wesley nodded at him and marked down something else of his clipboard. He then took note of what else was going on up there.
Gunn gave her another grin, and leaned on the console. "So I take it you're going to be leaving us soon?"
Cassie furrowed her brow. "Why?"
"Well, you have that professor to meet. At UCLA."
"Oh yeah!" In talking to Gunn, her IQ was dropping at an exponential rate, to the point where her verbal skills were becoming equivalent to that of a giggling 12-year-old girl. She mentally slapped herself, again. At this rate, she would soon be mentally bruised. "I'm going to be contacting him today to set up a meeting. For our interview. Because I need to meet him first." She was right: the vacation-stupid factor was kicking in.
Gunn raised an eyebrow and looked at her curiously. "You're from Canada, right? You're a bit far from home."
"Well, you know, the blood's warmer down here. Up there, it's all frozen." She let out a nervous laugh. Cassie's official mental slap count: four.
"While you're here," Gunn continued. "You really should get to the beach. Have a bit of fun in the sun before you have to go back to your winter wonderland."
"You'd take me to the beach?"
"I'd love to." His smile was genuine, and inviting. Cassie found herself gazing stupidly into his dark brown eyes, and trying to will away unbidden thoughts of the man in front of her wearing nothing but khaki green swim trunks. This time, the warm fuzzy feeling she was experiencing had nothing to do with any drugs or alcohol.
Illyria continued taunting Spike in the training room below. "You fawn over the girl as though you expect her to do the same," she spat. "You are a half-blood. There is no point. She will have no interest in your kind other than as a curiosity, a science experiment."
He bristled at the word science. "That's not true. Spent the evening together, we did. Talked all about me."
"She is trying to see what makes you function," Illyria countered. "She wants you merely for the blood."
"Yeah? Then why would she spend all night drinking with me?"
"She was trying to throw your guard off." She smirked at the stolen line. Spike scowled at that, and threw a half-hearted sidekick towards her. She grabbed the leg and twisted so that Spike twirled in the air before thudding to the floor. He picked himself up and snarled. "Even now, she shows appreciation for another of your companions. Up there." She nodded to the window, where Spike could clearly see Gunn and Cassie chatting and smiling. "I can smell her lust."
Spike's jaw dropped as he stared at the two. Gunn was leaning close to Cassie, and she was staring at him awestruck. "That's supposed to be lust for me, you dumb twit–" His tirade was cut off by a swift uppercut from Illyria, snapping his jaw shut painfully.
"Your guard is thrown," Illyria said to Spike, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. "We are done here," she called to the booth, where Wesley nodded to her. Cassie and Gunn were watching the scene below; Gunn laughing, and Cassie turning from pink to white to red, mouth opening and closing like a guppy.
Illyria strode out of the room, followed by a disgruntled Spike, who snatched his black t-shirt from the floor on the way by. Cassie excused herself with a mumbled apology, and went down the stairs to meet him.
"Does your ankle hurt?" Cassie asked him as she found him putting his shirt back on. "You know, after chewing on your foot for so long?"
"Sod off," he grumbled, and began to walk by her.
"Oh, give it up," she said, smiling. "It was a joke." He scowled in response. "Okay, fine. Your pride is hurt. Get over it. Are you busy tonight?"
He stopped and turned to face her. "Why? Did Gunn turn you down?"
She raised an eyebrow. "You said you'd show me the sights."
"Get your new beau to do it. I've got plans." With that, he stomped away down the hallway.
Cassie had seen this type of behaviour before. It was from some of the spoiled kids she used to babysit when she was younger. Thankfully, she also knew how to handle it. She needed to distract him from himself. She followed him down to the lobby, where he was retying the laces of his boot. "Spike? I'm seriously hungry. The last thing I had was the worst cheeseburger of my life. It was a crime against cheeseburgers."
"You didn't go to Pedro's down the street, did you?" he asked, straightening up. "The tacos are decent, but the burgers are… yeah, crimes against all burgerkind."
"Then I bet that you know a good place to eat," she cajoled, sidling up to him. "You seem to have great taste. In food."
He smiled. The dark mood had been broken.
"So, you'll take me out for a bite?"
"A bite, eh?" He wrapped an arm around her waist and tilted her back. "Now you're talking my language." He leaned into her and Cassie giggled.
The elevator doors dinged.
"Cassie?"
She looked up from her diagonal pose. "Natalie?"
"Cassie!" said a stern male voice.
"Nick!" Spike exclaimed, and dropped Cassie unceremoniously to the floor.
"Spike." Nick growled.
"Illyria?" Spike said, as she walked down the stairs.
Illyria tilted her head.
"Cassie." Natalie took a step forward.
"Natalie –" Cassie began.
"Cassie…" Spike began, as he helped her up.
"Spike!" yelled Angel from the top of the stairs. He was waving what looked like an invoice.
"Illyria," Spike said, as Illyria took a few steps forward.
Illyria glared at them.
Cassie shook her head and breathed deeply. It was turning into the Rocky Horror Picture Show right before here eyes. Harmony looked on from the front desk, ready to burst out laughing.
"Please stop, everyone!" Cassie said, closing her eyes in exasperation. "I can explain. Everything," she added. Six pairs of eyes turned to her expectantly. This was going to be a treat.