SECTION 2 - ANGEL CITY

I got a buncha boys
We make a lot of noise
Little bit crazy
Playing with chemical toys
We're such bad ass dudes
I almost can't stand it myself
I wanna get the c**bs
In my elegant rags
Make my mom and daddy uptight
I wanna be an intellectual
Heterosexual, Angel City tonight.

(Motorhead, Album 1916)



Chapter 2.06
Tuesday, May 7th, 2002

When they got back to the hotel Buffy cornered Cordelia in the office, while Spike was left to be entertained by Lorne, which was fine by him because Lorne knew his way round the hotel's liquor supply. Angel headed straight for his room.

"Look, Cordelia, Angel gave me the Cliff Notes version of what was going on. What I want to know is, what's the deal with Wes? Angel wasn't real forthcoming and I've got too used to dealing with Spike where he comes on out and says what's on his mind. I don't have time or patience to try to wheedle what I want to know out of Angel, so spill."

"Wes found a prophesy that said Angel was going to kill Connor. Wolfram & Hart got to Angel's blood supply and dosed it with Conn-"

"Who is Connor?"

"Those must have been really short Cliff Notes. Connor is Angel's son. Stephen is the name Holtz gave him," Cordy explained

"Holtz being the guy who kidnapped him, right?"

"Anyway, so the lawyers tampered with Angel's blood and mixed in some of Connor's blood that they must have stolen from the hospital."

"The point of that being." Buffy wondered what this had to do with Wes.

"To make Connor smell like food to Angel. By the time we realised what the problem was Angel had to keep his distance a bit from the kid, which if you saw him the rest of the time you would know was nearly impossible for him.

Wes translated this ancient prophesy that said Angel would kill his son, but instead of telling anyone he just offered to look after the kid overnight. It was only because Lorne picked up on his singing when he was trying to keep the baby quiet as he packed up that we found out what he was going to do, but that was only after we found Lorne knocked unconscious when we got back from somewhere else.

By the time we went after him, Wes was already lying on the grass outside his apartment block with his throat slit from ear to ear and Holtz had the baby. Angel caught up with Holtz about the same time the Wolfram & Hart's combat squad hit the scene. Holtz's demon friend created a rip in the fabric of the universe and Holtz went through it to Quor-toth while Angel was busy dealing with Lilah and her guys.

Fred and Gunn found Wes' notes and realised why he'd done what he did, but it took them till the next morning to find Wes himself. Somebody had gone through his pockets and then moved him where he was less likely to be noticed. They had him taken to hospital and they explained to Angel about the prophecy, which we later found out was false and planted by the same time travelling non-corporeal demon that was helping Holtz. Angel went to see Wes in the hospital. They had to pull him off him. He tried to smother him while he was still flat on his back."

"So the guy made a judgement call and got it wrong, and now he's supposed to walk away from everyone he knows. From everything he's helped build up over the last two and a half years? Have any of you been to see him? Do you even know if he's out of hospital?"

"Fred took some of his things that he'd left in the office over to his apartment and told him not to come back. Gunn went to him behind Angel's back for help when Fred's life was in danger and he made it clear that he would only help that one time, he wasn't going to be there for us again."

"So it's like a divorce case, only Angel gets all the friends and his job and Wes is left with no income and no-one to care whether he lives or dies."

"He hurt Angel. And he helped those people deprive him of his son's childhood." Cordelia's voice hardened.

"He did what he thought he had to, to protect the kid. He was wrong. Don't you think having his throat slit and having someone try to smother him might be punishment enough? Don't you people understand there's two sides to an argument? I can see that expecting Angel to come round might be a bit much to ask, but how could the rest of you all just fall into line as if none of you have ever made a mistake in your lives.

I tried to kill Xander and Willow and my kid sister and they all forgave me. The guy just did the best he could with the information he had. Get me his address."

Cordy flicked the Rolodex on the desk and then pulled out a card from it and held it out toward Buffy.

"What're you going to do?" she asked keeping hold of her side of the card until Buffy answered.

"See if I can get him a second chance."

Buffy strode out of the office, coat and hair flowing behind her, a picture of righteous indignation.

Spike knocked back the rest of his drink and tossed the empty glass to Lorne. "Looks like we're on the move." He fell in next to his beloved without even bothering to ask where they were going.

Spike manoeuvred the car easily through the traffic. The directions on the card were plain and concise and he had no trouble following them. Buffy meanwhile was attempting to use up Spike's mobile phone credit at the fastest possible rate.

"Buffy, it's half five in the morning there. Rupert is not going to be best chuffed if you ring him now."

"I'm not going to go to Wes and tell him maybe I can get him a shit job and he might be able to whatever. If the best I can do is get him a job in the magic shop then I at least want to be able to tell him outright now. The guy made a mistake, now there's not one of them stayed in touch, just go looking for him when they needed him, and he's lost his job. One mistake and they've taken away his whole life."

"Getting a bit excited about the whole thing aren't you, love?"

"It just pisses me off. It's like that crowd Cordy used to run with in high school. All hanging on her every word. Whatever she thought, they thought. Only now it's what Angel thinks. Angel doesn't like Wes so Wes all but gets run out of town. Angel tried to kill him, tried to smother him in his hospital bed, but that was Angel and he'd just lost his child so that was fine by everybody."

"Take a deep breath and count to ten, then speak to Rupert."

Buffy took his advice. The phone rang for a considerable length of time before it was answered.

"Buffy, do you know what time it is over here? I'm not here solely to resolve your romantic problems." Giles' voice took on that tone he used when he was irritated but trying patiently to explain something to someone of lower intellectual capacity.

"How did you know it was me? And half past five in the morning?"

"Precisely. I sincerely hope you're not about to tell me you just discovered that you're having a reaction to holy water, although I trust it is something along those lines of magnitude for you to be calling me at this hour."

"How do I put this? You know these annoying phone calls you get at half five in the morning? If we had someone in Sunnydale with say. watcher type experience, then we might not have to make so many of them."

"Yes, I'm sure. Your point being?"

"Angel and Wesley have had a bit of a falling out. The long and short is that no-one is talking to Wes and he hasn't got a job any more. I thought that maybe we could pinch him, if say there was a job waiting for him in Sunnydale. I mean Will- Spike can cope with Latin but Wes is going to know loads of languages and stuff we don't. He could really speed up our research times and save us having to pester you, but it doesn't seem fair asking him to move without at least a job offer."

"You want me to offer Wesley Wyndam-Pryce a job at The Magic Box?"

"Well, duh."

"And that's why you rang me at five thirty in the morning?"

"I kinda wanted to go see him straight away. In fact, we're pulling up outside his flat now, and I don't know how long we'll be in LA and if I left it till it was an okay time to ring you it would be too late to visit him tonight."

"Yes, Buffy."

"Is that yes he can have a job?" Buffy almost bounced in her seat.

"Yes, give him my number and get him to ring at a civilised hour if he's interested and we'll sort out the details and I'll contact Anya."

"Thank you, Giles. Have I told you lately what a nice person you are and how much I love you?"

"Not for some time." Buffy could hear the smile in his voice.

"Hey, I've been practising. Will doesn't have to be the only one to reap the benefit. We'll ring you at a civilised hour when we're back in Sunnydale. Love you. Bye."

"Love you too, Buffy."

The two blondes stood outside the apartment door. Buffy's fiery mood having got the pair of them so far, seemed to have failed her.

"Am I doing the right thing?" Buffy asked, suddenly nervous about taking such a pushy role in the life of someone who had been, theoretically at least, an authority figure. She held Spike's right hand in her left and her thumb traced backwards and forwards over his palm not as a caress but as a sign of her nervousness.

"Don't know, love. Never met the bloke. Can't say how he'll take it and I can't say how he'll get on with everyone. I can say we could use someone with a bit more of that sort of background and I'll be pleased if the watcher stops lookin' to me to be the adult in charge of the kindergarten. I'm fed up of getting' the blame for not stoppin' that lot when they do somethin' stupid, as if they'd listen to me in the first place.

There's only one way to find out, pet." Buffy gave his hand a quick squeeze drawing comfort just from his presence and knocked on the door.

They waited for some time, but there was no response.

"Bugger this for a game of soldiers." Spike used his fist to bray repeatedly on the door, the noise soon followed by some high volume questioning.

"What the bloody hell have English manners come to when a supposed gentleman leaves a lady stood outside his door while he sits inside munchin' on." Spike sniffed. ". pizza flavour soddin' Dori-" The door to the flat opened to reveal a rather dishevelled Wes still wearing the same clothes he had on in the club except for the jacket. ".Tos?" Spike concluded at a normal conversational level, his free hand running swiftly through his blond locks.

"Buffy and if I'm not mistaken Spike. This is a surprise." Wes's tone was cool and he made no move to invite either of them in.

Buffy shrugged. "We were in town. Thought I'd renew old acquaintances."

Spike could almost see the former watcher trying to come to a decision. "Maybe this isn't the place, pet? Could be Wes here knows a decent pub nearby?" he suggested, giving the watcher an easy way out.

"You're right. I do. Perhaps we should adjourn. I'll just fetch my jacket," Wes replied. He disappeared out of sight behind the door, only to return a few minutes later wearing a heavy black wool casual jacket.

The three walked out of the apartment block in silence before Spike broke the embarrassed silence. "Heard the Poof and you weren't on best of terms."

"If you mean Angel, then I believe that would be a euphemistic turn of phrase," was Wes's dry response.

"Poof. yeah, there's plenty worse things I could and have called him in my time, but not in front of a lady."

The two men eyed each other up and down. Spike had been led to expect Giles jnr. with a better suit, but without the Ripper element. Instead he was pretty sure the man in front of him could handle himself. He had no false airs, although from his upper class accent, he obviously came from a privileged background. He could appreciate his dry wit. Spike was definitely warming to the idea of having the other Englishman around. Now if they had the same idea as to what constituted a decent pub, they were definitely in business.

"Buffy," Wes prompted gently. "I must say that I'm surprised given the nature of our previous relationship that you would get in touch."

"I never had a problem with you personally, just the Council indoctrination and the prig-like tendencies that go with. Seems to me Quentin wouldn't approve of you now," Buffy argued.

Spike snorted. "She means that as a compliment. Coming from her they're few and far between so make the most of it, mate."

"I meant that he seems to have changed but that the changes all seem to be for the good. And who says I'm mean with the compliments. It's just you don't do much to deserve any," Buffy countered though her tone was far from serious.

Spike raised that scarred eyebrow, and when Buffy glanced over in his direction he ran the tip of his tongue over his gleaming white upper teeth. Just the gesture was enough to set off a tingle low in her stomach and she flushed scarlet as she remembered the effusive encouragement that seemed to flow from her in torrents when his head lay between her legs. Having achieved his goal Spike pulled his cigarette pack from his pocket and flicking the top open he ducked his head to the packet to draw one out between his lips rather than release Buffy's hand. He reached across Buffy and held the pack out in Wes's direction before returning the pack to his pocket and pulling out his lighter.

Wes looked over at the couple. From what he'd seen so far, it seemed certain that the two shared a very intimate relationship, especially if the marks on the slayer's neck weren't the result of a recent skirmish gone awry, and having viewed their performance in the club that was doubtful.

"You'll pardon me if I say that you both seem far closer than I would expect Rupert to be pleased about," Wes commented.

"Can't imagine that I'd be his first choice," Spike admitted, "but he can't be too brassed off considerin' he's agreed to give away the bride."

"You're engaged?" Wes was unable to hide his surprise.

The couple raised their joined hands and tilted them till Wes could see the ring. "S'why we're in this neck of the woods to begin with. Reckoned it was better to head off the Avenging Angel before he heard some fifth-hand tale and came swoopin' into Sunnydale."

"And did the plan work?"

"Let's say Angel's sporting a mark not dissimilar to the slayer's, but I've got a nice lump on the top of me 'ead where 'is kid knocked me out, so we both get to claim we didn't lose. He's keepin' 'is trap shut for now so I suppose it's as much as we dare hope for." As he spoke the last few words the group moved through the doors into a smoky dimly lit bar. Spike grinned as they moved deeper into the bar.

"What's got you so happy?" Buffy asked.

"Music. Any pub that has that mad pissed bugger on the juke box can't be all bad." Buffy didn't recognise the song at all. It sounded almost like folk music, but then she would have been about six when the album came out and the language wasn't anything you'd play in front of a kid. That particular group had bypassed her generation except for "Fairytale of New York" making itself known round Christmas time and the track from the old Murphy's ads, not that she knew who had done that.

Spike sighed when he saw her blank look. "Shane MacGowan, lead singer with the Pogues and writer of most of their original material. Total pisshead and was even when we used to go to all the same gigs and pubs a quarter of a century ago."

"You knew him?"

"Not to talk to, just one of those faces you used to see everywhere you went, a sort of nodding acquaintance. You couldn't miss him like, he used to have this suit jacket he wore everywhere like a great big union jack front and back and he was never exactly shy and retiring." Spike's voice was almost wistful as he thought back to London in punk's heyday. For about three years he and Dru had shuttled back and forth between London and New York as the whim took them.

"What's your pleasure?" Breaking away from his reverie, Spike looked from Wes to Buffy.

"I'll have a pint of the guest ale," Wes answered.

"Something fruity?" suggested the slayer. Spike rolled his eyes but headed for the bar anyway.

The slayer and former watcher chose a table and settled in on opposite sides while they waited on the vampire's return.

"So what is this really about, Buffy?" Wes asked when they were alone.

"We heard what happened between you and Angel. I don't know if you know that Giles moved back to the Mother Country, but we've been sorta research-challenged. It really would be better if we had someone with your sort of expertise on site." Buffy looked at the table and raced through the rest of her spiel before she could back out.

"We don't charge for all the demon hunting and stuff so we can't pay you, at least not for that, but Giles says that if you want a job at the magic shop it's yours. You just need to ring him at a civilised hour and you can sort out the details between you. I don't know how the wages would compare or anything. And if something else came up that suited you better it's not like you'd be obligated, or if this lot came to their senses. or maybe you own your apartment or something and can't move, whatever. But we could use your help. assuming you haven't ended up too addicted to Passions to think about going back to work."

"A week isn't long enough for me to start watching daytime soaps, let alone become an addict. As to the rest of it I would have to discuss the whole situation with Giles before I could make a decision, though I must say it leaves certain other offers standing." Wes managed a half smile. "At least yours didn't come with a reminder that I'm doomed to the ninth circle of hell."

"You are?" Spike asked as he deposited two identical pints on the table before pulling a bottle of Bacardi Breezer from his jeans front pocket. "I would say that I'd see you there, least that's what most demons seem to think or they would if the knew their Dante, but a certain someone made me promise I'd do my best to achieve the impossible." Spike slid into a chair on the slayer's left claiming her hand again.

"You have other plans, I take it?" Wes queried.

"Buffy, here, seems to think I have the potential to be the first evil soulless thing to make it to heaven. Says she'll take it personal if I don't. So if I'm supposed to avoid damnation, I don't see why you shouldn't, being all soul-havin' an' all." Spike made it sound as if he was suggesting a walk in the park. "'Sides, you didn't betray him, you just tried to protect his kid for him. If all the information you had said he was the threat, don't see that what you did was wrong, and it took guts not to bring in any of the rest of them, to take all the responsibility. Just a pity they're all too blinkered to see it.

Cheers, mate." Spike raised a glass to the bemused ex-watcher.