Cordelia Chase was displeased. And she was hungry. And tired. And so sick of the green demon that she considered taking one of Angel’s shiny weapons out of the closet and chopping his head off. But that would probably be slimy. Maybe she could convince Angel to do it…
Speaking of the vampire…her boss walked back into the room and she immediately went to his side, feeling more secure with him than anyone else. They were no closer to figuring out what was going on than they’d been the day before, and frankly, she was ready to go home. Dennis would be there with a nice cup of cocoa and a hot bath…unless that had changed, too…
She shook her head to herself. There was no way she would have given up that apartment.
Right?
“I think I can try this spell again,” Lorne was insisting as he crossed the room with Fred.
“No way in hell,” Gunn responded without looking up from the newspaper he was reading. “And you mean to tell me the Angels are up against the Giants in the Series? Denzel won Best Actor?” His scowl was fierce. “And I missed it.”
“Yeah, that’s the most important thing here,” Cordelia snapped, snatching the paper from his hand. “Do you have any idea how far behind I am on Sex and the City?! It better be out on video or there’s going to be hell to pay.”
“Actually, most shows are coming out on DVD now,” Fred offered helpfully.
Cordelia responded with a withering glare and Angel quickly intervened. “It doesn’t matter. We’re going to get our memories back before we even know we missed them.”
“They’ve probably discontinued my lipstick, too,” Cordelia groused, flipping through the newspaper pages.
“We just need to find a witch to perform the spell this time,” Fred tried. “Lorne could do it--”
“No,” chorused Angel, Cordelia and Gunn.
“—but you guys aren’t comfortable with that,” she finished.
“And Wesley can’t perform it because we aren’t speaking with him now?” Angel asked, unsure.
“It’s a long story, trust us,” Fred assured him, ruefully.
“One you’re not going to want to get into, believe her,” a voice came from behind them. The group turned to find Wesley standing on the lobby stairs.
“Wesley!” Cordelia cried. “How…nice? You sure look scruffier than the last time I saw you. Where’s the shirt and tie these days?”
“They’ve lost their memories,” Fred explained.
“Through no fault of mine,” Lorne interjected.
She shushed the demon and continued, taking a few hesitant steps towards the Englishman. “We tried this spell to get Cordy her memory back…’cause, oh…yeah, Cordelia’s back! And…anyway, she ended up here without any memory at all. So we did this spell and it sorta went kablooey and now Gunn, Angel and Cordy think it’s three years ago…and that you’re still…I mean that…”
Wesley caught on. “That I’m still an important part of theirs lives,” he murmured and turned to Angel and Cordelia. “And them to me. Well.” He gave them a small, wry smile. “How interesting.”
“The last thing we remember is you reading that prophecy about Angel turning human,” Cordelia offered off-hand.
Wesley froze. His eyes ticked to Angel as both remembered that day. “Shanshu,” Wesley whispered.
Angel nodded. “I don’t understand what happened here, Wes…but I remember you’re my friend,” he murmured.
Before he could catch himself Wesley felt his features and his eyes soften at the pleading, non-understanding tone in Angel’s voice. This man…if he truly didn’t remember the events since that day… Wesley caught himself and his eyes steeled again. He took the steps two at a time and crossed the lobby briskly. “Unfortunately I don’t have time to play catch-up. There are things going on of which you should be aware.”
“Wait…if we’re not chummy anymore, why are you here?” Cordelia asked, following the group across the room.
He turned back to her. “Because I have information that might be critical if you all plan to stay alive. Whatever may have transpired between us, I don’t wish you dead,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Remember that when you get your memories back.”
Angel watched the man before him, noting how hardened he’d become since he’d last…well, since he last remembered seeing him. Wesley was confident, arrogant even…almost like…almost like Angel himself, he supposed. Lorne and Fred had relayed the story of Connor’s birth, as unbelievable as that was, and shared the tale of Wesley’s betrayal. This Angel…the Angel that knew a more flustered and nervous Wesley, couldn’t believe that his friend would betray him without good reason.
And that brought around an all-together more disturbing thought: What did all this say about the Angel of today? Would he so easily forget the times they’d shared together, the things they’d been through, and turn on his friend without asking for explanation?
It was too much to think about right now.
“What’s going on, Wes?” Angel asked easily, moving to the man’s side without second thought. Wesley took a step away and Angel tried to conceal the hurt in his eyes. Beyond anything else, he had no doubt that his memories of the past few years would be restored in time. This was nothing, when he thought about it. Nothing compared to the demons he’d faced in his life, to the troubles he’d endured.
“It seems that Spike has been captured by Wolfram and Hart.” Wesley shoved his hands in his jacket pocket and leaned against the counter, trying to ignore the genuine stares from the people before him. The past few times he’d been in the same room with them they’d done little more than exchange harsh glares and bitter words.
“Spike?” Cordelia gulped. “Spike…tried to kill us in Sunnydale, tried to kill us in LA…pretty much just always trying to kill us…that Spike?”
“Why?” Angel growled, his hands forming into fists at his sides.
His reaction prompted Gunn’s interest. “Who’s Spike?”
“He’s one of the most vicious vampires in the area…one of Angel’s old chums from his Scourge of Europe days,” Wesley told him, pulling out a piece of paper and tossing it onto the counter.
Angel picked it up, scanning it. “This is where they’re holding him?”
“No…that’s they password to get onto the floor in Wolfram and Hart’s building. Use the…no…you don’t remember the service elevator, do you?” Wesley realized.
“Service…? No,” Angel sighed. “I don’t.” He turned to Lorne, frustrated. “We need to get this spell done…get cracking on the books.”
“Perhaps that won’t be necessary,” Wesley intervened. “Last evening I followed one of the Wolfram and Hart employees to a meeting with one of their underground contacts. I wasn’t seen and I’d prefer to remain uninvolved after this. This person met with a associate, in private, who informed them of a vampire living in Sunnydale, at first thought to be nothing more than a lunatic…until he began to listen to what the vampire had to say.”
He paused. “Well?” Cordelia cried. “What did he say?!”
Wesley took a deep breath and looked Angel directly in the eye. “It seems that Spike has become ensouled.”
Angel’s expression went from one of stunned horror to pure anger. “What do you mean? How…how is that possible?”
“It wasn’t a gypsy curse, that I’m sure of…but otherwise I have no idea. I did some checking with a contact in Sunnydale. As it turns out Spike left town last spring and didn’t return until recently. However he regained his soul, it wasn’t done by someone on the Hellmouth.”
Fred took a tentative step forward. “So…that’s good, right? That another vampire got a soul? If he’s like Angel he can--”
“He’s nothing like me,” Angel growled, causing her to jump back. Gunn stepped next to her protectively.
“No snarling at the ladies,” he warned.
“Spike is a killer, vicious. He earned his nickname because of a penchant for killing his victims by driving railroad spikes through their skulls, then draining their blood,” Angel continued angrily.
“He came to Sunnydale a few years ago and tried to kill Angel…and Buf—all of us,” Cordelia added. “Then last year…I mean, a few years ago…he showed up here and tortured Angel for hours, all to get some ring. He’s bad news.”
“But he’s got a soul now,” Gunn stated. “What’s that mean? Why do those people want him?”
Wesley removed his glasses and cleaned them nonchalantly. “Because of the prophecy about Angel. It says that the vampire with a soul will live until he dies…meaning until the demon dies. Once he fulfills his destiny, he will Shanshu...become human.”
“It’s his reward,” Cordelia offered helpfully.
Wesley looked at her in surprise.
She sniffed indignantly. “Sometimes I listen.”
“So, wait,” Gunn interrupted. “This Spike guy got himself a soul and Wolfram and Hart…those are the lawyers that hate you guys, right? They decided to go capture him because of a prophecy about Angel? What would he know about the prophecy?”
Cordelia’s face was ashen as the implications of Wesley’s news hit her. “Not what he’d know…because he’s…”
“But now there’s more than one vampire with a soul,” Angel murmured softly.
Silence, beat after beat of it, was his only answer until Cordelia crossed to him angrily. “No…NO,” she hissed. “That slime of a man…vampire…doesn’t get to take your prophecy! You had it first!” She turned to Wesley, imploring him with her eyes to agree with her. “Tell him!”
“That’s what he’s here for, Cordelia,” Gunn agreed. “He thinks so, too.”
All eyes turned to Wesley, save for Angel who clenched and unclenched his fists in barely controlled fury.
“I’m afraid that’s the same conclusion I’ve drawn,” Wesley agreed with genuine remorse. “Though you don’t remember, Wolfram and Hart have spent the better part of the past few years trying their best to turn Angel to their side…or to release Angelus, who, while admittedly not a team-player, is already on that side.”
“Who’s Angelus?” Gunn asked.
Cordelia ignored him. “What have they done? Besides…I mean, they brought back Darla.”
Wes nodded. “Among other things, though Darla was by far the worst. Months of mental torture…mainly for Angel…that culminated in a downward spiral…well, I’m not going to go into the details.” He cleared his throat. “It’s been quite some time since we last met with Spike, and the other news I learned, of his doings since that time, were no less disturbing. I think…perhaps, Angel, you might want to speak of this in private.”
Angel grunted. “Just tell me.”
Wesley hesitated. “Given your current, ah…state of mind…you may think otherwise when you hear what I have to tell you…”
Angel slammed his hand on the counter, startling them all. “Just. Tell me,” he seethed.
Slightly wary, Wesley conceded with a nod. “It seems that Spike has found himself in love with the Slayer. With Buffy.”
Cordy burst out laughing. “No way,” she gasped in between laughs. “I mean…Angel was one thing…but Spike? Even her taste isn’t that bad.”
No one spoke.
“Who’s Buffy?” Gunn tried again.
“Angel’s ex-girlfriend,” Cordy explained, getting a grip on her hysterics. “They broke up last year.”
Fred rolled her eyes at the inaccuracy. “Three years ago.”
“She’s a what? Slayer?” Gunn asked.
Cordelia gave a tortured sigh. “Yup…little girl-wonder. Super powers and lots of bad shoes. She kills vampires and demony things back in Sunnydale. Killed Angel once, actually.” Gunn raised his eyebrows and she shrugged. “He came back.”
“So…wait a minute, amigos,” Lorne interjected. “Angel’s ex-honey has found herself in love with another vampire with a soul?”
Before Angel could react, Wesley stepped in. “That may or may not be true. What I know is what I’ve said. Spike may be in love with the Slayer, and some how he has managed to regain his soul. My source seems to think that perhaps he found a way to restore his soul in order to please her. That’s all I know.” He turned to Angel. “I’m sorry. I would have preferred to share this with you in private.”
“I don’t get why this is such a big deal, other than…well, she bones the undead,” Gunn groused. “They’re ex. Over.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Don’t go there,” she whispered knowingly.
“This isn’t the point,” Fred said sternly and walked to the center of their group, taking charge. “The important part right now is that there’s another vampire with a soul.” She turned to Wesley. “What do you think this means for Angel?”
Wesley acknowledged the change of subject. “It could mean nothing…but I fear that it may be easier to corrupt Spike than it is to corrupt Angel. I don’t know about his relationship with…others. If he has friends…what he’s like now that he’s ensouled. If he’s making a place for himself as Angel has. It could be that we have nothing to worry about, that he’s returned to normal human values and can’t be, forgive the cliché, turned to the dark side.”
“He’s a vampire,” Gunn added. “You mean the dark-er side.”
Wesley smirked. “But it’s also possible, and more than likely, that Spike will be corrupted by Wolfram and Hart…and should the prophecy apply to him…”
“Wolfram and Hart have their leader of the apocalypse,” Angel finished, his voice low and deadly.
The ex-Watcher nodded. “Precisely.”
“Did we know about this?” Angel asked Fred. “No one…called us to tell us about Spike’s soul?”
Fred glanced at Lorne. “No…not that I know of. But you’re sorta…secretive…when it comes to um…to…”
“Buffy,” Cordelia finished. “Always has been. Guess that hasn’t changed.”
“I was going to suggest that perhaps a call to Sunnydale, to Rupert Giles possibly, might be in order. Given the situation at hand…I’m willing to make the call if you wish,” Wesley offered reluctantly.
Angel glanced up at him, his eyes steely, and nodded. As Wesley rounded the counter to make the phone call, the others took seats in the lobby, unsure what to do now. Without a word, Angel stormed across the room and out into the garden.
Fred followed Wesley into the office and opened a drawer, pulling out the address book she knew he’d be looking for. Handing it to him, she gave him a small smile.
“Thank you,” he said courteously, and took it from her, flipping to the “G” section.
“I—thank you for coming to us with this information. Things are a little hectic right now,” she stammered as he scanned the pages.
“It’s fine,” he murmured, and set the book down.
“No…it’s not. You didn’t have to, but you did. I know I appreciate it…and I’m sure the others do, too.”
He smirked and gave a wry chuckle. “I’m sure.”
He lifted the phone to dial when she began to speak again. “I’m sorry for how I treated you,” she murmured softly.
The phone halfway to his ear, Wesley paused and looked at her. With a sigh he set the handset back down and turned to face her. “What happened here had nothing to do with you, Fred.”
“I damned you along with the rest of them,” she tittered nervously. “Never gave you a chance to explain yourself…I just followed along with Angel and Charles.”
Wesley gave a sound of agreement but didn’t reply.
“So…anyway…I’m sorry.”
They stared at each other, a moment passing between them when the phone suddenly rang. Wesley reached for the phone and handed it to Fred and she picked it up on the third ring.
“Hello?” she answered, turning away from Wesley. “Angel Investigations, we help the--” She stopped suddenly, surprise clouding her expression. “Um…Fred? I—I work here. Who’s this?” she demanded. The answer had her mouth forming a soft “O” of shock. “Just a minute,” she stammered and turned, handing the phone to Wesley.
His brow furrowed in confusion as he took the receiver from her.
*~*~*
Cordelia wandered into the garden after Angel, partially concerned for her friend and partially curious about his reaction to the Buffy/Spike news. She found him as she expected, sitting, back to the rest of the hotel, glaring at the ground in true brood-form.
“Hey,” she said, plopping down on the bench next to him. “What a day, huh?”
He grunted in reply, squeezing his clasped hands together as he flexed his fingers.
“How long do you think it’ll take us to get our memories back?”
No reply.
She continued on as if he were sharing in their conversation. “It doesn’t feel like I’ve lost my memory. Of course, that could be because I haven’t left this hotel in twenty-four hours so I haven’t experienced the real world yet.”
He let out a loud, nasal sigh.
“You’d think we’d feel different…all out of place and everything, but I don’t. It’s just weird the stuff they’ve told us about…you having a kid, me…a princess! Can you picture that? ‘Cause I so can. This head was made for a tiara.”
Her chattering got the response she expected.
“Cordelia, do I look like I want to have a heart to heart right this minute?” he growled.
She pushed down the grin that fought to play on her lips and instead replaced it with a frown and quirk of her perfectly manicured eyebrows. “Don’t get huffy with me, buddy. We’re in the same boat…except that I didn’t just find out that my ex-sugar might be boinking your would-be replacement. I figured you were out here giving that azalea a good stern staring at, and I was right.”
“I don’t want to talk about Buffy,” he snapped.
“Like she’s on my top ten list of favorite things to mull over,” she scoffed. “But seeing as the very mention of her always sends you in a tizzy, I figure it’s my duty to reign you in before things go too far.”
He sighed and looked at her with irritation. “How would they go too far?”
She threw up her hands defensively. “According to our newest best friends in there, chatter-box and Greenie Wonder, last time you got all down in the mouth you slept with Darla and tried to bring out your less-fun, though better-dressed, alter-ego.”
“I’d like to know where this Connor is,” Angel put in.
“Nice try. You’re not changing the subject, though believe me, we’re gonna get to the topic of you being a dad. I mean…come on…like you’re ever going to coach a soccer team.”
Angel gave her a worried glance before returning his gaze to the ground and Cordelia relented for a moment. “Besides…Fred said that he doesn’t exactly live here…I’m sure he’ll come back around,” she said softly, putting a reassuring hand on his back. “And while I know you having a child is…weird, but amazing…if he can take care of himself maybe that’s something better left to worry about when we get our memories back.”
He looked up at her again, awarding her with a very small smile when Fred stepped tentatively out onto the walk.
“What’s up, Fred?” Cordy asked with a sigh as the girl continued to stand there. “Something new that’s happened in the past three years we need to know about?”
Fred hesitated. “Um…sorry, but Angel there’s someone on the phone…”
Angel exchanged a glance with Cordelia. “Who is it?”
Fred scuffed her feet, stalling.
“A client?” He and Cordy rose together and crossed the few steps to stand before Fred.
Fred gulped and before she could answer, Angel pushed past her, irritated, and stepped into the lobby. Wesley was on the phone behind the counter, his back to them, and though he could hear Wesley perfectly from where he stood Angel took the steps two at a time moving swiftly across the floor.
“…three years," Wesley was saying, his back to Angel, Fred and Cordelia. "I haven’t looked at the translation of the spell yet to see where the error might be, but I doubt it will be difficult to fix. Memory spells generally aren’t, not when the cause of the original loss is due to magic…Oh…is she still…? Yes, that would be most helpful, thank you.” He paused as the person on the other line spoke. “Slayers…dead?”
Angel’s ears perked up and he strained to hear the caller’s voice through the receiver but there was background noise on both ends and that made it impossible. There was a long pause as whoever was on the line spoke and Angel sensed Wesley tense at whatever information was being conveyed.
When Wesley spoke again his voice was much graver than it had been a moment before. “Really…no, I’ve heard nothing…and my sources as of late have become a little more…well-rounded. I assure you though…if she’s in danger…yes…of course…immediately.”
“Naturally,” he continued after another pause. “Now…there is something else,” Wesley straightened, shifting the phone from one ear to the other as he began to turn to face the lobby. “Something I think you should know about…Bu--” He caught sight of Angel, standing just a few feet behind him, and started, not expecting observers.
His mouth closed for only a moment before he plunged ahead. “…something you should know about, Buffy.”
