This is another of my early works, rife with bad characterization, good grammar, and bloody-awful story-telling. Read at your own risk.
Rating: Watch BtVS/AtS? You can read this too.
Pairing: Surface B/S, C/A, and others.
Summary: Angel gets a couple visitors, and confusion ensues.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Buffy-verse, or the Angel-verse, and, although I wish I did, I certainly don't own Spike. Oh, and I don't own MTV either. I made up a middle name for Anya, and got the last name from a discussion in a trivia thread at the Crumbling Walls Buffy/Spike 'Shipper Forum.
Spoilers: Sixth season, up to and including either "Wrecked," or "Gone," I don't know which would be better to say, but definitely passed "Smashed" and spoilers for "All the Way." AtS after "Birthday" and "Provider," but before "Waiting in the Wings." I have, however, adjusted the calendar (it's nice to have power :) ) so that this story takes place three weeks before Saturday, March 16, 2002.
Special Thanks: To my sister, yungin3, for the great ideas, and the sentence that started it all.
Distribution: Just tell me where it goes.
Feedback: Hate it in musical equipment, love it in writing . . . There are various feedback links at the bottom of every page of fanfiction.
"Did you get those nasty airplane peanuts?" Angel asked, a hopeful look on his features.
"Yeah . . . And I must say, for the millionth time, eww." Cordelia couldn't believe her Vampire boss; regular food made him gag, but it took airplane peanuts to make him enjoy eating . . . can you say "oxymoron?"
"Man, I wish I could taste chocolate again." the Brooding One murmured, remembering the near-orgasmic experience he'd had being human for a day . . . and the literally orgasmic one he'd had with Buffy . . .
"What'd you say? Speak up!" Cordy snapped the Master Vampire out of his reverie.
"Huh? Oh, nothing." the dark-haired Vampire quickly, and lamely, covered. Have to remember . . . nobody remembers . . . Angel was saddened to think that he'd always remember a day more than anyone else . . . It didn't seem fair to them. He got to enjoy one more conglomeration of experiences, fit into a twenty-four hour period, and he didn't even deserve it . . .
Basically, his soul was bothering him again.
"Sure, whatever." Cordelia said, dropping the discussion as she sat at her desk for the first time since she left for her vacation to Cancun. Sure, MTV Spring Break had been fun, but she had missed Angel's weird Vampire quirkiness and soul-filled broodiness-not that she'd ever say so.
"So, how was your trip?" Angel changed the subject, snapping the Seer out of her own reverie.
"Just what the doctor ordered . . . or at least the Host." she replied. The whole reason for Cordy's vacation was to stop some avid goth Rock fans from casting a spell that would ruin the vacationers' fun. Cordelia was glad for the chance to physically help out; Angel's self defense instruction was all she'd needed to keep the ritual makers from performing their lyrical spell on stage.
Changing the subject again, the brunette let some of her "rich girl shallowness" shine through. "And you know, Carson Daly is such a hottie. I only regret sitting through that live Jerry Springer Show. Jerry Springer sucks!"
Shaking his head at his friend's avoidance of serious subjects, the Vampire went to heat up some coffee for her. "Well, it's a good thing I don't watch TV then, isn't it?" Angel joked, handing her the coffee.
Eyebrow raised, the young woman joked too. "Sure you don't . . . at least you know who Chow Yun Fat is.
Angel chuckled, "I still can't believe Wesley threw up on Chow Yun Fat," he said, remembering Cordy's annoyed facial expression when the ex-watcher couldn't even get the oriental actor's name correct.
Their trip down Memory Lane was interrupted, however, as the hotel's main entrance, or at least half of it, was knocked down with a loud crash . . .
From the other side, a familiar voice spoke.
"SPIKE! You didn't have to knock down the door!"
*****
The Peroxided Offender ran in, a flaming blanket over his head. As soon as he was out of direct sunlight, the Vampire tore the blanket off, stomping out the flames.
"Oops." he said, looking back to the doorway where Buffy was helping Cordelia to hang the door back on its hinges. "Sorry, Grand-Poof. I'll run and get some new hinges after sunset." the brunettes in the room were more-than-shocked at Spike's politeness.
The duo from Sunnydale was even more shocked when Angel jumped to his feet, grabbing his Grandchilde by the lapels of his duster.
"Where's Spike, and what have you done with him?!?" the Soulful One demanded, glaring into the younger Vampire's blue, stormy eyes.
"Can't you tell?" Cordelia asked from the background. "He's Slayer-Whipped."
No one had time to notice Angel's surprised head-whip toward the part-demon Seer, or Spike's cocky grin, before they heard a baby cry from above.
*****
"Goody! Connor's awake!" Cordelia jumped up, running up the stairs. Of all the people who frequented the hotel, Cordy had missed the baby the most.
Angel turned back to the Sunnydale visitors. "Yeah, and you woke him up," he said, glaring at Spike.
For the first time since stepping into the hotel-turned-P.I. Office, Buffy finally noticed the baby paraphernalia lying about. Bottles, teething rings, rattles, a stroller, and lots of little-bitty stuffed toys and kiddy books, not to mention the baby monitor, which was what had alerted the group to the infant's wakefulness.
Turning back to look at Spike, she found him staring back. They both looked at each other questioningly, one eyebrow raised, then shrugged, deciding without words to wait for the explanations.
Although the duo seemed to be in their own world during the exchange, they most definitely weren't. Angel had noticed the looks exchanged, and, breaking them out of their silent conversation, he asked the pair, "Did I miss something?"
It seemed to be the day for interruptions at crucial junctures, however, when Cordelia came back downstairs, holding the baby to her chest, cooing playfully to him.
"I think we all did, mate . . ." Spike intoned in his I-can-see-through-everyone voice, indicating the baby boy gurgling happily in Cordelia's arms as she fed him a bottle of formula.
"Nothin' like a game of Twenty Questions to enlighten yourself in the morning." Cordelia quipped a little too perkily.
"Maybe we should all sit down." Angel said, indicating the couches in the foyer. The order in which they sat wasn't lost on anyone either. Angel sat on one couch, Cordelia to his right, while Spike sat across from her, the Slayer to his right, across from Angel.
"Speaking of questions," Spike began once they sat, "you seemed pretty worried when I acted all polite `n' apologetic earlier. What's the matter? Would ya really miss the old me that bloody much?" He smirked at his Grandsire cockily, grinning wider when it seemed that Angel was embarrassed.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Spike, get over yourself." She then turned her attention to the seer.
"So Cordy, who's the father?"
"I don't think you're asking the right question, Buffy." Angel interjected when the former May Queen shook her head.
"You should be asking `Who's the mother?'" Cordelia confirmed.
*****
Realizing the implications, Buffy's and Spike's eyes widened.
"Back up a mo' here, kiddies . . . Vampire equals dead person, equals dead seed . . . And I have just one bloody question--"
"-How? . . . Wha-? . . . Huh?"
"Now look! You've confused the Slayer! In my experience, that's not a good thing, mate." Spike joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Spike, have I told you to shut up lately?" Buffy said, a little annoyed. "Alright, I'll bite. Who's the mother, Angel?" She turned back to the brunettes who were looking at the blondes as though they were crazy-which they probably were; with all the supernatural Hellmouth stuff always going on around the Sunnydale crew, one never could tell who was sane.
Sheepishly, the Soulful Vampire looked the Slayer in the eyes, and spoke one word, a name from the past.
"Darla."
*****
Surprisingly-to Angel and Cordelia anyway-Buffy was the only one confused. Spike just seemed surprised.
"Uhm . . . Cordelia? Is he delusional? `Cause, you know, I saw Angel stake Darla myself." Buffy asked.
The Seer was not the one to answer the Slayer's question. Both brunettes shared a surprised look when Spike piped up.
"Y'know, luv, you're not the only one with a stake in the resurrection business."
After everyone groaned at the Vampire's bad-really bad-pun, Buffy realized what the other bottle-blonde had said.
"You knew?!?" She, Angel, and Cordelia yelled at the same time. Buffy moved to pummel the Vampire, and he started to back up in the opposite direction, almost falling off the couch.
"Hold it a minute, Slayer!" the younger Master Vampire begged. "There's a very good reason I didn't tell you when I found out, so just listen for one bleedin' minute, alright?"
Angel intervened in his Grandchilde's behalf. "Yeah, Buffy, I'd like to find out how he knew too. Let him explain."
Reluctantly, Buffy complied, moving back to her original seat while glaring at the peroxided Vampire. "So spill. Let's hear the story . . . and there better be a really good reason for your silence, Bleach Boy, or you will be dust when you're finished."
"Got it, Slayer. Now, let me see . . . I found out the last time Dru was in town. You remember when, so I won't go anymore into that." Spike began.
"She said that she and `Grandmummy,' whom she had re-sired herself," Angel winced at the mention of Darla's second Turning while Spike continued with the story. "Were going to wreak havoc on the world and bollocks like that. She came to Sunnydale to ask me to come along, but, as you know, Slayer, I refused. That's how I knew Darla was back, but, other than the part about the chains-which I'm really sorry about, by the way-the reason I didn't say anything was because you had a lot to deal with anyway, and you sure didn't need to hear about the Poof's penchant for taking Shakespeare seriously at the time."
Buffy, although she understood about Darla, didn't get what Spike meant by his last comment, so she voiced her confusion.
"What does Shakespeare have to do with anything, other than that your first names are the same, William?" she asked, and Spike knew that the words Explain now, or else. were hidden in the way she used his given name instead of the nickname Drusilla had given him.
Cordelia answered before anyone else could, missing Angel's wince.
"Kill all the lawyers."
*****
Spike snickered. "Didn't know Cheerleaders knew Shakespeare besides Romeo and Juliet." he said, making fun of Cordelia.
"I didn't." Cordelia answered. "But when you put Shakespeare and Angel in the same sentence . . ."
Buffy was a bit more than flabbergasted.
"Huh?" was all she could get out, gaping at the Seer and the two Vampires like they had turned into rutabagas. "You killed some lawyers? But your soul . . ."
Angel sighed. Cordelia answered, while Spike, wisely, stayed out of the storytelling. The L.A. crew deserved the chance to tell their side of the story, instead of Spike's second-hand story as told by Drusilla. And he really didn't want to get any more on Buffy's bad side than he already was.
*****
"So then, there was a really big group of demons and vamps and lawyers, all after Connor-although he didn't have a name yet-and Angel had this really great plan." Explaining had taken a long time, but Cordelia and Angel had nearly finished.
Angel took up the slack where the other brunette had left off.
"I played decoy . . . well, a teddy bear was actually the decoy-a teddy bear strapped to some C4, that is." the Formerly-Broody One said with a small smirk.
Spike chuckled. Buffy gawked.
"One thing's for sure," the Slayer interjected as the account came to a close. "Your summer was definitely better than mine." she smirked coquettishly.
Spike did a double-take.
"Slayer, did you just make a joke . . .?" About dying, Buffy knew he wanted to add.
Angel and Cordelia were confused. They hadn't heard anything resembling a joke.
"I . . . guess . . . I did." the blonde grinned uncertainly. "I mean, visiting another dimension has to be better than lying flat on your back for 147 days." she lifted her eyebrows amusingly.
One would think that Angel and Cordy were natural blondes . . . They had only just gotten the joke. Cordelia cracked a smile . . . as long as it was OK with Buffy, it was OK with her.
Angel, however, was a bit uncomfortable.
"Buffy?" he asked, unsure of how to express his discomfort.
Thankfully, the opening-and promptly, falling-door saved the Vampire from saying anything more.
"Yo. Angel. Fred around? Me an' English-Well, hellO there . . ." Gunn noticed the blonde woman sitting on the couch and came closer.
Then he noticed the other blonde . . . the really pale one. And, come to think of it, the first blonde wasn't really sporting all that much of a tan either . . . Gunn had flashbacks of the last blonde to have grace the hotel with her presence, and began to panic.
But before the young man had a chance to get hysterical, another voice floated through the door . . . one with an upper-crust British accent.
"Dear Lord . . . Angel, what happened to the door?" Wesley asked, stepping through said door and looking at the couches, his view partially blocked by Gunn.
Wesley stopped at the sight of the Slayer.
"Oh, hello, Buffy. How are you?" he asked, somewhat distracted.
"So that's who she is?" No wonder she's so pale! She was dead the whole summer . . . no time for a tan . . .Gunn thought to himself, voicing his next question aloud. "But who is he?"
"Who?" Wesley asked, stepping around Gunn to get a closer look, his eyes widening as he caught sight of Spike.
Spike started to stand as Wesley pulled a crucifix out of his jacket, sputtering "St-Stay away f-from me! . . ." not very convincingly.
"Well, it's good to know I still have that effect on some people." Spike interjected in his usual sarcastic manner. Then nostalgically, "I haven't gotten a reaction like that in over two years."
"Oh great. Another Brit." Gunn complained. "Can I kill this one?"
The blonde Vampire chuckled. "You ever killed a Master Vampire, boy? Even the Slayer has trouble getting rid of me . . . you really think you could pull it off?"
Looking at Angel, Gunn asked, "Family of yours?"
"Grandchilde . . . Drusilla is definitely as crazy as she was in 1880 . . . maybe more so . . ." was the answer.
"Huh?" another question.
This time Spike answered.
"William the Bloody, at your service," he said, giving a rather showy bow. "But everyone usually calls me Spike."
Yet another voice interrupted.
"Wow! I've read all about you!" said a distinctive Southern Drawl as Fred came down the stairs. "Is it true that you got your name from--"
"-Gunn really doesn't need to hear that part, Fred." Cordelia interrupted, thinking that the girl was about to say "railroad spike torture."
"Why? What's wrong with poetry?" she inquired innocently.
"Alright! Who published that? I'll kill `em!" Spike sputtered indignantly. How dare they write the truth about him? How dare they reveal his inner "teddy bear?"
Everyone except Fred and Buffy was confused.
"What are you talking about, Fred? What does poetry have to do with Spike?" Angel demanded.
"You mean you don't know?" Buffy answered, surprised. "I would think he'd have told you . . . or at least Drusilla."
"Drusilla knew . . . I didn't tell her though." Spike jumped in.
Angel was getting frustrated. "Alright, what's going on here?" he said, starting to lose his temper.
Buffy started to speak. "William, the Bloody is short for--"
She was cut off by Spike's hand on her mouth.
The blonde Vampire couldn't reach Fred, however. Angel looked to the girl, askance.
Guilelessly, Fred finished Buffy's sentence.
"William, the Bloody Awful Poet."
*****
Spike, embarrassed, groaned, putting his head in his hands. Cordelia laughed, Wesley and Angel gawked in surprise, and Gunn . . . Gunn was looking as though he was feeling left out.
Raising his hand awkwardly, he spoke up. "I don't mean to sound blonder than these two . . ." he said, indicating the Vampire and the Slayer. "But would somebody please clue me in on why this is funny?"
Buffy answered, "Because . . . he's a Vampire who's killed two Slayers in the past 122 years, and he's not supposed to have a "soft, gooey center."
"Well, we already knew about that, anyway." Cordelia said with a wink to her blonde friend.
"And, yet again, huh?" Gunn still wasn't getting it.
Angel was confused again too. "Yeah, Cordy, what are you talking about?"
"I already told you, moron." the Seer was getting aggravated. "It's so obvious, I'm surprised no one else has gotten it."
Buffy groaned. "I think I know what you mean, Cordy, but they don't need to hear about that . . . really, they don't."
But Angel would not be discouraged.
"What? What's going on that's so obvious?" he asked.
Spike started to get up. "I'm going to the hardware store. Go ahead and tell once I'm gone, Cheerleader . . . That should give everyone time to cool down before I get back so I don't have to go home in a dust-buster." The peroxided Master Vampire hurriedly left the hotel, pulling the door back up behind him.
*****
"OK, get this." Cordelia started, moving closer to Gunn, Wes, and Fred while trying to stay as far from Angel as possible. Buffy had gone to the kitchen to make a sandwich while the Gossip Queen-come-Seer spilled her proverbial guts.
"Spike is so totally in love with Buffy. Hence, soft, gooey center with a Vampire exterior. I'm surprised none of you noticed before, especially you, Angel. You've known him the longest."
Angel was jealous, and furious as he remembered the look he had witnessed between the two blondes earlier.
"And Buffy knows about this?" he asked, already knowing that, not only did she know about his Grandchilde's feelings, but she had also slept with the other Vampire fairly recently-sometimes he hated a Vampire's sharp sense of smell . . .
"I'll kill him!" the Soulful Vampire raged. "I'll kill him for touching her!"
Now it was Cordelia's turn to be confused.
"I didn't say anything about touching . . . What are you talking about?"
Angel stomped into the kitchen, yelling for the Slayer.
"I can smell him all over you, Buffy. Did you think I wouldn't find out? What? Did you think you'd walk all over your chances for a normal life?" Angel was basically sputtering sentences with no real organization to them, trying to articulate his anger and feelings of betrayal.
"How dare you?" Buffy seethed. "How. Dare. You? You left me, expecting me to have a normal life, but you didn't even care to think that a `normal' life is impossible for me! How dare you question my judgement and decisions?"
Trying to hold on to his anger, Angel yelled again, not quite convincing in his argument.
"I left so you could have as normal a life as possible, but I see you'd throw that away too!"
"I tried the `normal' thing, Angel." the Slayer pleaded, tears coming to her eyes. "Remember Riley? He left. He left because I couldn't love him after you left me! My life is far from normal, Angel, and you'd better not judge me. Not when you have your own decisions to think about!"
Angel winced at the round-about reference to the lawyers and Darla.
"I'm sorry, Buffy." the Vampire replied, ego deflating. "Will you just answer one question for me? Please?"
"Alright." Buffy nodded.
"Do you love him?"
"I . . . I don't know."
*****
The Slayer and her Vampire ex-boyfriend, after talking out their troubles, rejoined the gang just as Spike came back from the hardware store carrying a bag of hinges, screws and screwdrivers in his hand.
Setting down the parcel, he turned to speak.
"Anyone wanna help me fix the do- . . . Oi! You Poof!" he yelled at his Grandsire after seeing Buffy's face. "You made the Slayer cry! . . . You alright, Slayer?"
"Yeah, I'm OK, Fang Face. And you broke the door, you fix it yourself." As her tears dried, her wit returned, allowing her to make fun of the Peroxide Prince just as much as usual.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the Vampire grumbled good-naturedly, turning to the task at hand.
*****
About twenty minutes later, everyone had lapsed into meaningless conversation with Spike interjecting a few comments from the doorway at short intervals.
Not long after that, Spike had finished with the door.
Stepping back to admire his handiwork, the Vampire began a verbal critique.
"Well, I'm not as good with tools as the Whelp, but hey, at least it doesn't fall down every time you open it."
At Spike's mention of Xander, Buffy realized something important, and groaned.
"Speaking of Xander, Spike, you do remember why we're here, don't you?" she tried subtly reminding the egotistical thorn in her side about the purpose of their trip to the City of Angels.
Angel interrupted. "You know, I was wondering about that all day . . ."
Wesley, Gunn, Fred, and Cordelia were equally curious.
Spike's eyes widened at the prospects. "You mean, we've been here all day, and not even mentioned it?"
"Nope." Everyone-except Connor and Spike, of course-answered.
Buffy slapped her forehead. "Y'know, maybe we really are blonde, Spike."
"I wouldn't know. I can't remember what I looked like the last time I showed up in a mirror." was the witty rejoinder.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "If you two are finished being nauseatingly cute, do you think you could get to the point?"
"Oh. Yeah." Buffy said. "Spike?"
"Huh?" the blonde was a bit out of it at the moment-watching Buffy sit down. "Oh. Right." He finally snapped out of his reverie, pulling something out of his duster.
"The Whelp-er, Xander-wanted to invite the lot of you to his wedding in about three weeks. If you can't make the wedding, he says to try for the reception."
Buffy jumped in. "It looks like there's an extra, even if you count Connor, and Xander said that, if there were any, to just bring a friend with you." she explained while Spike tossed each person their invitation, giving two of the ones without names to Gunn and Fred, and the last two to Angel for safe keeping.
"He'd have mailed them," Buffy explained, "but he wanted to make sure you got them, and you know how the Postal Service is these days."
Everyone laughed at that, reading the invitations.
"One and the same." Spike answered.
"Grrr . . ."
Buffy interrupted before Cordelia could go on a jealous tirade. "Anyway, we have been here all day, and we've done what we came here to do . . . and then some. So, I guess we'll see you all in three weeks or so." She quickly started to head for the door, Spike following.
"G'bye, Buffy. It was nice to meed you!" Fred called after them.
"I like them. They're nice." the girl said naïvely once the duo had left, shutting the door behind them.
*****
Three weeks later, the Sunnydale gang, plus a lot of demons, witches, and vampires . . . not to mention a werewolf or two, were milling about The Magic Box, mingling, as the Harrises enjoyed their new matrimonial status. The L.A. gang had yet to show up.
At about fifteen minutes to nine, the door opened, allowing one Vampire, one Watcher, one part-demon Seer, one baby, and four human adults to enter.
The group found the newlyweds, and Angel spoke to the groom.
"Sorry we're late, Xander. We had to make a few stops on the way . . ."
Seeing the two women-besides Fred and Cordelia-at the back of the group, Xander couldn't help but smile. "That's alright, Deadboy. Thanks for bringing everyone." He turned to one of the two women he had noticed.
"Hey, Faith."
"Hey, Xand. Congratulations on the new Ball `n' Chain." the brunette Slayer turned to the bride. "Take good care of this guy, chickie. He's one-in-a-million."
Anya grinned. "Don't I know it. You know, I never thought I'd be conversing on friendly terms with you, considering past history and all, but from the last few minutes, I can see that you've truly turned over a new leaf. You're welcome to visit me and Xander any time you like, Faith."
"I'd love to take you up on that offer, but this whole Get-Out-of-Jail-Free Card is a Cinderella deal . . . Gotta be back in the Pen by noon tomorrow or else, you know?" Faith explained.
Meanwhile, across the room, Buffy had noticed the other face in the group.
"Anne? Oh my gosh! Anne? It's so good to see you!" she ran to the Shelter Manager, giving her a careful hug.
"Buffy!" Anne answered. "How are you? It's been so long . . ."
Angel interrupted, Cordelia on his heels.
"You two . . . know each other?" the Seer asked.
"DUH!" the Slayer replied, rolling her eyes." Remember back when Ford was here? Anne was part of the Sunset Club . . . only then, she was Chantarelle . . . And then, when I ran to L.A. that one summer, I met her again, this time going by the name Lily. I saved her life-again-and went back to Sunnydale, while she took over the waitressing job I had gotten using my middle name . . . ergo, Anne."
"Y'know, I thought she looked familiar." Spike cut in, making everyone jump as he came up behind them.
Anne started to back away, frightened by Spike's presence. Buffy, realizing the woman's discomfort, chided the sneaky Vampire.
"Spike! Inconsiderate much? You have to remember, the last time she saw you, she was being offered to you as dinner!"
"Oh. Bloody Hell . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. And you know, I don't even think that if this chip came out today I'd want to hurt you . . . bloody weird, if you ask me . . ." Spike realized his mistake, holding out his hand to introduce himself properly.
"I know we've already met, Pet, but I think I should introduce myself again. I'm Spike. It's nice to see you." he said, taking Anne's hand, bowing and kissing it in a gentlemanly manner reminiscent of his Victorian upbringing.
Anne blushed. Buffy giggled. Wesley, Fred, Cordelia, Angel, Faith, Xander, and Anya gawked.
Gunn said, "Huh?"
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