A/N: For anyone who doesn't remember my note from the beginning of the story: This is set post-Never Fade Away for AtS, and I haven't seen/read any of the canon Buffyverse material (the animated series or comics) that continued after the TV series ended, so nothing that happens there exists here.
This chapter is a bit talky, but explanations needed to be made before we could move on. Hope you enjoy!
Xander and Angel looked across the bullpen at each other in surprise.
"I take it you two know each other," said Tony, looking back and forth between them.
"Yeah," said Angel. "Though it's been, what? Six or seven years?" He approached Xander's desk. "What happened to your eye?"
"An accident with a priest." Xander grinned goofily as he rolled out his usual response.
"A priest? Not Caleb?" asked Angel seriously.
Xander's grin disappeared. The story about the priest was supposed to throw people off, not give them the answer.
"You heard about Caleb?" he frowned.
"Met him. Sort of. Buffy didn't mention he'd..." Angel gestured towards Xander's eye.
"Wait," Tony interrupted. "I thought that line about the priest was just a joke."
Xander glanced over at Tony, then shrugged. He didn't want to talk about it. Taking a deep breath, he recovered his cheery disposition and turned back to Angel. "That's old news. So. In answer to your other question, I work here. These are my colleagues, Special Agents DiNozzo and David. What's your reason? I thought you lived in LA."
"I do. I'm here on business," Angel replied. "The guy murdered at a nightclub last night? The police told me NCIS was handling it and Special Agent Gibbs was in charge."
"So you're here on a case?" Xander asked.
Angel appeared to consider the question, as though there wasn't an easy answer to it. "Uh.."
"You're a LEO?" Tony interrupted again. Now Angel looked confused.
"No," answered Xander. "He's a PI."
"Gibbs won't like that," Ziva commented from the corner, where she had been quietly observing the newcomer. "He hates working with anyone else, but civilians are bottom of the list."
Angel checked his watch as though her assertion didn't bother him. "Will he be back soon? Spike and Illyria are waiting for me, and as you know, Spike's not the most patient guy around."
"Spike's here?" Xander asked, surprised. He paused for a moment. "Could I catch up with you guys, while you're in town?"
"You want to see Spike? I thought you hated him."
"I did, mostly," said Xander with a wry grin. "But he and I fo-" Xander stopped himself. He didn't want to refer to fighting, despite the small amounts he'd told Gibbs & Tony (and he had assumed that what Tony knew, Ziva & Abby would know by now). "I knew him far better than I ever knew you," he finished somewhat lamely.
Angel nodded, apparently either understanding or knowing now was not the time to ask. "Sure. Call whenever. Number's on the card."
Xander took the proffered business card. "You have a cell phone? And can use it? I'm impressed."
"I can answer calls," Angel said defensively. "Spike handles most of that stuff. Must have something to do with him being younger."
Xander snorted. "Not that much younger, in the scheme of things."
"He's half my age!"
Xander laughed at Angel's indignation. It was hilarious to think they were comparing the ages of a 200+ year old vampire against a 100+ year old one. Neither should be good with technology by today's standards, where even 50 years old made you out of date. Or, on the other hand, they were both perpetually young and should both be good with technology. Neither scenario worked.
"Probie, am I hearing this correctly?" asked Tony, still blatantly unashamed to be listening in. "Your friend here is as technophobic as the boss?"
"Worse."
"Hey!" said Angel indignantly. "At least I'm not as bad as Illyria."
"Which reminds me, who's Illyria?" asked Xander.
Angel shook his head. "I can't even begin to answer that one."
"Not your type, then?" Xander phrased the question innocently enough, knowing Angel would get it but it wouldn't be enough for his colleagues to draw any conclusions. It just sounded like he was asking about Illyria's chances as a romantic prospect.
"No, and not yours either," Angel confirmed.
Ziva stood, looking pointedly in Angel's direction. "Ah, Mister..."
"Just Angel."
"Angel," she smiled. "I was just going to fetch a coffee, would you like one while I'm there?"
Angel smiled back. "No, but thank you."
"I'll have one, Zi-ver," grinned Tony. "My usual, thanks." Ziva made a face at Tony as she left the bullpen, much to his delight.
There was an awkward pause.
"So, uh.. how's the gang?" Angel asked, obviously trying to make small talk.
"Fine, last I heard. We only email occasionally." Angel raised his eyebrows in surprise. Xander shrugged. "The Scoobies have moved onto bigger and better things. That means they're busy. Look, Angel, why are you here? Even if your case overlaps with ours, Gibbs won't let you work with us."
"Ah, well, 'case' implies someone's hired me to solve something," Angel said evasively. "It's more... look, I came here to warn your boss. Maybe you can pass it on to him for me."
"Nope," said Gibbs, striding into the room. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it directly to me."
"Special Agent Gibbs?" Angel asked formally.
"Well, yeah," Gibbs replied, heavy on the sarcasm. He dumped some files on his desk and dropped into his seat, looking at his monitor as though Angel was of no interest. Angel hovered at the side of his desk.
"I'm Angel, I'm a private investigator."
Gibbs spared a moment to glare at him. Angel hurried on.
"That marine that was murdered last night, I believe he's not the only one. There may be others in trouble."
"Well yeah, we know," said Gibbs in exasperation, as though Angel was trying to explain that the sky was blue. "We've got at least eleven others missing. What do you know of it?"
Angel actually fidgeted a little, Xander noticed with interest. It seemed more than 200 years of un-life, and experience as the CEO of an evil law firm wasn't enough to make you immune to Gibbs' glares.
"Well, not much. Only that there's plans to take more. Probably. So it might be a good idea if you issued some kind of memo that marines shouldn't be out alone after dark... or something like that," Angel finished quickly.
Gibbs stepped around his desk to stand toe-to-toe with Angel. Angel was an inch taller but Gibbs was easily the more imposing.
"We've had some bad experiences with PI's in the past, so forgive me if I'm not particularly accommodating," he grated. "Tell. Me. What. You. Know."
"Nothing that would help you," Angel stepped back slightly. "I don't know who's behind it, or where the missing marines are, or if they're still alive. Only that more will, probably, be taken."
"How do you know?" Angel hesitated, so Gibbs repeated himself, louder. "How do you know!"
Angel looked conflicted, as though uncertain whether to answer honestly or not. He turned.
"Xander? If I-"
"Unless your sources have first names and surnames, I wouldn't bother," Xander replied casually, already knowing what Angel was going to ask. Gibbs would not be impressed by information that came from an old scroll or ancient tome, nor would he appreciate a source that had only one name and no social security number, like most demon informants. "It would be a waste of his time and yours."
Angel nodded and seemed to straighten, as though Xander's opinion had strengthened his own.
"You would dismiss my sources as unreliable. There's no point. But my message stands -warn the marines, and reduce the risk of others going missing."
"I don't take orders from civilians," Gibbs growled. "If you're only here to play games, get out, before I arrest you for impeding our investigation."
Angel glanced at Xander, who shrugged. Angel sighed and stepped back before turning away. He passed Ziva on his way to the elevator. She looked around as she entered the bullpen with a tray of coffees.
"What has happened?" she asked in confusion.
After Angel left, Gibbs had grabbed a bit of paper off his desk, and told Tony to take it to the Director. Turned out Gibbs had already planned to send out a warning memo. Vance had already been briefed and would speak to SecNav, who would have the message sent out to all units stationed at Quantico or anywhere else within D.C. All marines, but especially those in the junior ranks, would be advised not to go out to bars or clubs alone.
Xander had endured some interrogation about Angel afterwards, but Gibbs had finally accepted his explanation that Angel was just the 'ex-boyfriend of a friend from high school'. He also managed to convince Gibbs that he didn't know exactly who or what Angel's sources were, only a vague knowledge of the kind of 'unreliable sort' Angel hung out with. Xander hadn't intended to discredit Angel entirely, but he couldn't exactly tell Gibbs what kind of sources Angel was probably using, could he?
Gibbs' last question had thrown him though. It was much later, after they'd spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening trawling through the UA case files and personal information from the missing marines, trying to find a hint of what had happened. Gibbs had finally told them to call it a night, and go home and get some sleep. His team had wearily and gratefully packed up and headed for the elevator.
At the last minute, Gibbs had called Xander back. He'd stopped at the entrance to the bullpen.
"Yeah, Boss?"
"Who are the Scoobies?"
Xander looked over at Gibbs in surprise. He certainly wasn't expecting that. He tried to figure out how to best answer.
"Family," he replied, not specifying whether they were his own, or just a family. "That I mostly lost touch with a few months after Sunnydale collapsed. They moved to Europe."
"You were travelling around then too, weren't you?"
"Yeah. Spent some time with them there. But they settled abroad and I wanted to come back to the States. We made promises to call and visit, but you know how it goes. We still email, but not as often as we thought we would."
Gibbs had nodded and Xander had rejoined his teammates, who were holding the elevator for him.
But instead of going home, Xander had pulled out his cell and called Angel. He knew the vampire would know much more about what was going on than he could say in front of the team. And while they had never been best buddies in the past, if there was something supernatural going on with these missing marines, then Xander needed to know what it was.
Besides, Spike was here too. And yeah, okay, Xander hadn't exactly liked him much for a long time either, but by the end they'd have called each other friends. Hell, Spike had been his roommate twice, and they'd worked alongside each other all those months when Buffy was gone, and the bleached-blonde vampire had been a pretty decent guy by the time Sunnydale was destroyed. Not to forget Spike's part in that.
Xander pushed the door open to the tinkling sound of the bell. The 24-hour diner was exactly the classic sort seen in movies: a row of booths down one side, a counter with stools along it down the other, all decked out in red and white. It was obviously designed to draw in the tourists with it's tacky old-cafe style.
He moved towards the back and heard them before he saw them.
"I can't believe they don't let you smoke in these places anymore. What is the world coming to? I remember when not only could you smoke anywhere, but it was expected. No self-respecting gentleman went out without his pipe."
"You were never a gentleman, Spike," Angel responded drily.
"I was a gentleman, before you and the ladies came along," Spike retorted. "Xander! Heard you missed me. Can't blame you really, I am a charming bastard."
Xander rolled his eyes and shuffled into the booth beside Angel. "I'm not sure 'missed' is the right word, Spike. If you can guarantee it'll be several years between each time I see you, I'll be pleased and relieved."
"Love you too, pal," Spike grinned.
Xander ordered a coffee from the waitress. "So, where's your other person? Illyria, wasn't it?"
Angel nodded. "She's back at our hotel. She doesn't uh, blend too well with people. In L.A. she can get away with it most of the time, but not so much here."
"From what you said earlier, I assume she's not human?" Xander asked.
Angel and Spike proceeded to explain who Illyria was and how she had come to join them. Since it had happened during Angel's time as CEO of Wolfram & Hart, and the Scoobies and fledgling Slayer organisation had disapproved of Angel being in that position, the story hadn't really gotten around. Even after Wolfram & Hart's destruction, open communication had never really been re-established between the two groups.
Xander was horrified by the story of what had happened to Fred. He'd never met the physics genius, but Willow had both met her and quite liked her. The vampires had gone on to explain that only the three of them had survived the destruction of Wolfram & Hart, and had subsequently returned to operating Angel Investigations from the Hyperion Hotel. Illyria, partly out of her interest in Wesley before his death, and partially due to the bits of Fred's memories she retained, had taken over as the scholar of the team -though she still liked to get into the physical action whenever she could as well. She was quick to learn new languages, especially the oldest demon languages, which resembled her native tongue, and spent a lot of time translating scrolls and old writings.
"Which is how we ended up here," said Spike. "See, Illyria found this prophecy."
"The Faligata Prophecy," supplied Angel.
"Whatever." Spike waved a hand dismissively. "Basically, it says that if some demon happens to be in the right position in the human world at the right time, he's going to come into a heap of wealth and power."
"Only it's a lot less clear about it than that," said Angel. "It's vague on almost every point: when, where, who, how, even the what isn't certain. The 'wealth and power' bit is the most popular translation, but not the only translation."
Xander shook his head. Sounded like a typical prophecy. "So that's brought you to D.C. because..?"
"Well, as it turns out," answered Spike, "we seem to be the last to know about it. It's one of the most popular prophecies in the demon world. And while there's no reason to think it's the right translation, there is one that's become very well known."
"Some smart Japanese demon," said Angel wearily. "Published it a year ago -'Fiyido's Book of Prophecies'. Made a fortune. His translation specifically mentions Washington D.C. and the 'right position' is some unspecified government job. As if that weren't bad enough, Fiyido published a new edition ten weeks ago, which said that the prophecy should take place next week. "
Xander recalled the 'crime wave' Detective Hurst had referred to in the alley where Private First Class O'Reilly had been found. And that the first marine had gone missing seven weeks ago. "So now every demon that can pass for human is doing whatever they can to get a government job that might lead to wealth and power?"
"Yep," agreed Spike, jabbing his finger at the table. "And the closer we get to the end of next week, the messier it's getting."
"And you two are here to see if you can get a government job for yourselves?"
It took them a moment, but then Angel and Spike both started protesting indignantly. Xander eventually held up his hands in a placating gesture.
"Alright, I get it, you're not here for the riches and power. So why are you here?"
Spike looked pointedly at Angel. Angel sighed.
"Well, I hoped we'd be able to prevent some of the violence, protect people, you know."
Xander snorted. "Great job you're doing there. The local police told us they're snowed under by violent crime cases."
"There's only three of us," Angel objected. "We can't be everywhere. We don't even know who we should try to protect, since every government official or employee, human or demon, is probably in danger."
"Which is why I argued against the bother of coming at all!" Spike put in.
Xander decided he needed a refill. He slid out of the booth and ordered another coffee at the counter, stretching his legs a bit whilst he waited. When he returned to the table, he noticed Spike & Angel's cups had also been refilled, with a suspiciously dark red liquid. He spotted Spike slipping a thermos back inside his leather duster.
"What?" asked Spike. "You gotta be prepared when you're travelling."
Xander figured he ought to be grateful they'd thought ahead.
"So, I know why you're in D.C." he said, sliding back into the booth. "So what's with the missing marines? What brought you to NCIS?"
Spike snorted. "I told him not to bother with that. We know so little it would be pointless."
Angel sighed again. "Yeah, that was a bit of a waste of time. I just thought, maybe if they were warned, at least it'd be harder for any more to be taken..."
"They were warned," Xander interrupted. "Gibbs had already been planning to send out a message."
Angel paused in surprise. "Wait, so all that show your boss put on..."
"Was because he didn't like you and he wanted to know everything you knew about it," finished Xander. "You know, you're lucky Gibbs didn't lock you in interrogation until you told him everything. We only just found the pattern of missing marines this morning, so the fact that you knew anything was very suspicious."
Angel threw up his hands in exasperation. "I was only trying to help," he complained.
Xander tried to get back on topic. "Whatever, just tell me what you do know."
"We heard rumours that someone's doing a Badinok Spell. Ever heard of it?" asked Angel. Xander shook his head.
"The Badinok Spell allows you to take on the strength and health of others," Spike explained. "The bonus is that you can take on the strength and health of more than one person at time. Make yourself as strong as three Fyarl demons -or a bunch of marines. Considered doing it myself a few times, back in the old days. 'Course, it wasn't as easy to get hold of all the spell ingredients back then."
"When we first heard the rumours I assumed they would be randomly picking victims off the street," commented Angel. "But I kept checking missing persons reports and there was no influx of young healthy people. It wasn't until we heard about your dead marine that I realised that the best candidates for the spell would be marines, and there's no shortage of them around here."
Xander tried to get his head around it. "Okay, so someone -or some demon -is collecting marines and then doing a spell to make himself into a super-human or super-demon."
"That's about it," agreed Spike.
"So why did they kill Private O'Reilly?"
"The spell is pretty precise," Angel explained. "You take on the health and strength of the victim. If you take on the health of someone who's sick or injured, then you will be too. So your dead guy probably had something wrong with him."
Xander shook his head -he didn't recall anything in O'Reilly's file to suggest that was true, but he could double-check tomorrow.
"So that's it?"
"Yeah, that's all we've got," said Angel. "We'll keep trying to track down the source of the rumour, but until we do..."
Xander nodded. There wasn't much else they could do until they knew more. Knowing why the marines had been taken was a start, but it wasn't enough.
He stood. "I know it's still early for you guys, but I'm beat, and I have to be back at work in..." he checked his watch and groaned, "...not enough hours. Let me know if you find anything, yeah?"
He made his way wearily out of the diner and into the night. As he crossed the carpark, he got the eerie sense that he was being watched. He waited until he was beside his car before glancing around surreptitiously. There, parked in the back corner. He couldn't see who was in the vehicle, but he didn't need to: he knew Ziva's car well enough to recognise it. He groaned as he got into his car. Gibbs must have told her to follow him.
Tomorrow was promising to be another long day.