CHAPTER SIX
ANGEL INVESTIGATIONS SPRING GALA
MARCH 28, 2009
Buffy had worked for Angel since the summer of 2005 as his secretary, and even though the hours were long and the pay was standard; she loved working there and helping those in need. Every spring they threw a classy black-tie party for the staff and prospective clients with Buffy doing most of the organising and preparing. This was the first year she'd brought a date; usually she didn't mix her personal and professional lives, but Buffy and Spike had been inseparable since they'd met at Buffy's birthday party two months ago.
"Stop it," chuckled Buffy, reaching out to straighten Spike's bow tie after he'd been awkwardly pulling at his collar for the last ten minutes.
He smirked as her small fingers deftly forced the errant accessory into submission. "Tell me why I'm doing this again?"
She smiled sweetly up at him as her fingers trailed lightly down his shirt front from his newly straightened bow tie to the cummerbund wrapped around his waist. "Because we're gonna have an amazing time and you love me."
"Yeah, I do." He smiled back and leaned down to plant a sweet kiss on her cheek. "You look incredible tonight, Buffy." She wore a strapless crimson gown and her hair was in loose curls that tumbled down her back in a golden wave. He stepped back and traced her form with his eyes as his tongue curled behind his teeth. 'Definitely hit the jackpot with this one. I'm a lucky bloke.'
The party was in full swing when they walked into the ball room; waiters roaming aimlessly with champagne and hors d'oeuvres on silver trays and people dancing in the centre of the room.
He smiled down at her, his pride in her achievement showing plainly in his eyes. "Wow, luv, you really know how to throw a party. No wonder I haven't seen you much, this is brilliant!"
"Thank you." She beamed a smile at him and leaned up to place a kiss on his lips.
"There she is, the woman of the hour," said Angel as he made his way through a crowd of people.
"Oh, stop," Buffy said depreciatively as a heated blush crept up her cheeks.
"No, I mean it, Buffy, you've really outdone yourself this year." He stared at Buffy's blushing face for what seemed like an eternity before he finally seemed to notice her companion. He dragged his eyes away from her with some difficulty and held out his hand. "Oh sorry, you must be Spike."
"You must be Mr. Boss Man," Spike said coldly.
"That I am... So tell me, Spike, what is it you do?"
"I'm in security mostly." He let go of Angel's hand and had to actively restrain himself from scrubbing his palm on his pant leg. There was just something about Angel that made Spike's skin crawl. He seemed overly nice and the way his eyes kept crawling all over Buffy... 'Hidden agendas, mate. Best keep an eye on this plonker.'
"That's great. Oh, honey, come here," he called to an attractive blonde woman wearing a hot pink satin dress. "Buffy, you remember my wife Darla, right?" He smiled as his wife joined them, but his eyes were still glued to Buffy.
"Buffy, nice to see you again." She quickly clasped Buffy's hand then let go and turned to Spike. "And who is this delicious hunk of man?" she slurred as she pushed herself close enough to Spike that her satin covered breasts brushed his tux jacket.
"Uh... William Pratt or Spike, either is fine," Spike stuttered as he tried to discreetly lean away from the obviously drunk woman that was pressing even closer.
"Hmm... Spike, eh? I wonder how you got that nickname," she giggled as she 'accidentally' stumbled forward, not that there was much space between them to begin with, but her stumble allowed her hand to brush 'innocently' against the front of Spike's pants.
He jumped back slightly, biting back an indignant shout as Angel grasped her arm and pulled her away with a weak smile. Spike sighed in relief as Angel ushered his drunken wife toward a large set of doors on the other side of the room, "Well... she's uh... friendly?"
Buffy reached up to straighten Spike's bow tie once again. "I feel bad for Angel; she drinks herself into oblivion every year at this party... really makes a spectacle of herself. At least you weren't here last year."
"What happened last year?"
"She got up on stage and sang 'I'm Every Woman' by Chaka Khan. Well... 'sang' isn't even close... 'shrieked' might be more accurate," she giggled.
Angel led Darla out of the ballroom and into the hallway then spun her to face him as he ground out in hushed tones, "Darla, we go through this every goddamn year!" She swayed a bit as a man walked past and patted him on the back and Angel turned away from his wife with a cheery smile, "Good to see you, Michael," then turned back to Darla, his smile folding down into a frown. "Darla, I know you're not happy, but soon we'll have what we always wanted."
Darla began to sob, "You think I want this? Angel, I love you but you're pushing too hard." She wiped the falling tears from her cheeks and he grabbed her and hugged her tightly
"I know... but I thought we'd decided."
"We did, it's just... adoption? It just seems so unfair that we can't conceive," she sobbed harder.
"We've been through this, it's not your fault, sweetie." He kissed the top of her head and held her close as she sobbed into his chest.
PRESENT DATE
Spike strode into the office and veered toward a secretary sitting at a grand desk. She looked up and flashed him a cheery smile that was full of teeth. "Hi! Welcome to Angel Investigations, we help the helpless. May I help you?"
"Yeah, is Angel around?" he asked as he cocked a hip and perched on the edge of her desk.
Her eyes snapped to where his backside rested on the polished wood and her smile's tooth count dropped drastically, but there was still a smidgen of politeness in her voice when she asked, "Do you have an appointment?"
"Uh... no, but I'm an old friend of his. Trust me, he'll wanna see me."
Her smile went from cheery and still tooth having to tight with no visible teeth anywhere. "I'm afraid that without an appointment, it's impossible. He's a very busy man."
Angel sat at his desk with his feet up and the phone to his ear. "Yes, absolutely, I see how that could worry you, Mr. Morgan..." His door suddenly sprang open and Spike burst through with a very flustered assistant in close pursuit. "Uh, Mr. Morgan, please forgive me but I'm going to have to call you back." He abruptly dropped the phone into the cradle without waiting for a response.
"I'm sorry, sir, he just barged in," she babbled nervously even as she threw the hairy eyeball at Spike who was steadfastly ignoring her.
"It's okay, Jeana, I'll... uh... call you if I need anything." She left the room, throwing a scathing glance over her shoulder before shutting the door firmly behind her. Angel glanced at the door then looked up at the man standing in his office, fury rolling off him in waves. "Spike right? Uh... take a seat," Angel said with a smile as he gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk that Spike was standing behind.
"Didn't come here to sit, mate," Spike said, the rancour in his voice backing up his angry stance.
Angel got to his feet to keep from having to look up at Spike, but kept the desk between them. "I have a feeling I know what this is about. Look, what Buffy and I did was wrong, I'll be the first to admit that, but it's over and if I'd known that you guys were still..." Spike began chuckling loudly and Angel frowned. "Is something funny?"
Spike darted around the desk and wrapped his hands in Angel's silk shirt then slammed him up against the wall, pinning him there with an arm across his throat. "Oh yeah, mate, there's a lot of things that I find hilarious about this situation... You sleep with her for what? A few weeks? Months? Then when you've had your fill, you make her life here a living hell so she'll quit and you can leave her holding the baby... You're a real piece of work, you know that?"
Angel gasped for breath when Spike dropped his arm and stepped back. "I don't know what you're talking about, Spike."
"You got her pregnant, you bloody selfish prick!" Spike yelled.
Angel's eyes bugged out and his face went from beet red to ghostly white in a matter of seconds as he yelped, "What!"
Spike tilted his head as he contemplated the larger man then he suddenly turned and stepped to the small bar set against one wall of Angel's office. He poured them both a stiff drink then considered the half-full tumblers before sloshing another finger or two into them for good measure. He clumsily clinked the bottle back onto the shelf then picked up the glasses and walked back across the room. "She didn't tell you, did she?"
Angel took a glass from Spike and downed half of it then asked for clarification. "Buffy's pregnant?"
Spike downed half his glass then nodded. "Yeah, eight months. You really didn't know?"
"No, I haven't seen her since she quit."
The men sighed and looked awkwardly at each other then gulped the rest of their drinks and moved as one toward the bar.
