Buffy waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. “Okay,” she said, as her mouth pulled into a smirk, “You do know that I’m a Slayer, right?”

Oscar nodded and his eyes glowed with a mixture of fear and awe, “You don’t seem to be the type to be ‘a’ anything. And yes, I do know you. I’d be a fool not to.”

Buffy couldn’t help it. A surge of pride shot through her and she stood just a little straighter. He knew who she was. And that made her feel good.

But there was something else that didn’t make her feel so good. It scared her, in fact, but she wasn’t about to let that show. If she did, things could get ugly fast. “Good,” she said, easily, suddenly grateful that this vampire would never be able to get into the dojo. And there was no way that she was letting him out of her sight. It would be too easy to light a match, and there was no way that she was going to put Spike through that again.

There was something odd about this, and not just Slayer-odd, really odd.

Spike’s still asleep. So, either he’s exhausted, and trusts me to protect him, which, again, given where he’s just come from and our past history, is odd. Or, he doesn’t sense a threat, which is odd. Given where he’s just come from, he would see everything as a threat.

She regarded him with a suspicious eye, “We understand each other, then,” Buffy said. “Why on earth should I help you?”

Oscar couldn’t help but smile. The sense of déjà vu was a little overwhelming, and he felt the tickle of a laugh beginning to bubble up from the depths of his chest. He had to bite his lip, and avert his eyes to stifle it. It really wouldn’t do him any good at all, or William either, if she thought he was unbalanced in any way.

If this was to happen, she had to trust him.

“You shouldn’t,” he acquiesced, speaking softly, his gaze pulled to the boundary he knew he could not cross, “But I was there,” his throat felt raw and tight suddenly. He didn’t want to reveal too much, “…at Wolfram and Hart, when Angelus took control,” he chanced a look at her then, and he saw the fury burning inside of her. She had no idea… “I was there before, actually. And, I know the deal he struck with the Senior Partners for control of the Los Angeles office. I was there until the last. Until the battle,” he winced at that, and looked away again. Just how much could he tell her? How much would indeed help, and how much would endanger what was about to happen? Had he already said too much? Was it already too late? “…And its aftermath. I may know how to help your husband. Or, failing that, I can tell you what’s been done to him.”
****************************************************************************************

FEBRUARY 24, 2004- LOS ANGELES-

Oscar really tried to keep focused on the game. Vampires weren’t supposed to have tells. After all, there was no heartbeat, no real circulation and no need to breathe, but for him, it was hard not to sweat and stutter.

He had aces and eights. Again.

And, he was sitting across the poker table from him. Spike. How was it possible…? Perhaps it had been too long. Too many years had gone by.

William didn’t recognize him. He thought of him as just another cog in the machinery, the well-oiled mechanism that is Wolfram and Hart.

And, maybe that was for the best. At least this way, his opinion might not weigh much. He might not have a detrimental effect on the outcome.

At least he hoped he wouldn’t.

Esther’s cheerfully pleasant voice drifted into his consciousness. “…I think you’re right Spike, “ she was saying, “Cavemen would win. Now, ante up. It’s your call. Or,” she purred seductively, “do you fold?”

His eyes flashed defiantly at her. There was a bit of flattered glee in them. And Oscar had no trouble finding the boy he once knew, hiding beneath the lightning flash, and it only made him more uneasy. There was no doubt now.

This was William.

“I will never admit defeat, Pet,” Spike purred, “ Not without a good brawl, anyway.”

“Ohhh,” Esther cooed, sounding less like an accountant, and more like an actress from a less-than-“B”-movie, “That sounds like fun.”

“Only if I lose,” Spike teased her, “And I never lose, Pet.”

Esther whinged, clearly disappointed.

Spike pouted, “ Sorry, Love. It just wouldn’t be fair to you. My heart’s spoken for. Glad to know you’re in my camp though.”

“She’s lucky,” Esther said.

Spike’s eyes flashed darkly, exposing a sea of pain and sadness, “Yeah, well,” he grumbled.

Oscar knew that he was speaking of her. And he felt his pain.

He looked away. The sexually charged banter made Oscar more than a bit uncomfortable, but at least William wasn’t focused on him.

Then suddenly, his eyes turned to him again, and Oscar felt his stomach drop. He saw concern in the boy’s eyes.

Was it concern for him?

His mouth was moving, but Oscar could not hear the sound.

The vampire sitting across from him narrowed his eyes, studying him, and his mouth moved again. This time the sound came rushing back, almost making him wince. “You all right, mate?” Spike asked, “You’re lookin’ a little green. Did you get hold of some bad otter’s blood?”

Oscar blinked. “What?”

“You’re looking a bit green around the gills,” Spike said again, “And, I asked you a question.”

“Oh. What?”

“I’ve got a little wager with the big boss man. I’m takin’ a poll. In a fight, who would win, cavemen or astronaughts? What do you think, Oscar?”

Oscar thought for a moment, took into account everything he knew would happen, and everything he hoped wouldn’t, and asked a question, “Do the astronaughts have weapons?”

The smile that Spike flashed was dazzling, “No.”

Oscar sighed, “Then that’s easy,” he said sadly, “Cavemen win.”
***************************************************************

Buffy studied him intensely. This was a vampire. There was no doubt about that. And there was something about him that didn’t make him seem like a threat.

His eyes were sad. There was something very deep-rooted there. He cared. She could see that.

And Spike was still asleep. So, there was no threat. Yet. But, she’d be a fool to let him in.

“Okay,” she said, arms crossing over her chest, her stance widening in the doorway, “You’ve got my attention. You know what Angel did."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Talk,” Buffy said, “I’m listening.”