TITLE: Plus One

AUTHOR: vic_amy_z

EMAIL: [email protected]

LIVEJOURNAL: www.livejournal.com/users/vic_amy_z

DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere I post. Anywhere I already said 'yes' to.
Anyone else just let me know and I'll gladly let you have it... I
even gift wrap at no extra charge!

PAIRING: Angel / Spike.

RATING: NC-17 for sexual content and language.

POV: Switches between Angel and Spike.

SUMMARY:  There's an important Wolfram & Hart function. Angel
needs a date and Spike isn't making it easy for him. Will Angel make
it to the ball…?

 
NOTES: For the 'Forging Ghost' List - Challenge #26. It's
silly and it's fluffy and I'm making no apologies for it, 'cause it
was a helluva lot of fun to write!
SPOILERS:  Nothing specific, set early AtS season 5.
DISCLAIMER: My story but no, I don't own them. If I did, they'd
spend more time naked! All owned by a wonderful genius named Joss who
should be encouraged to rethink their clothing situation. I get
nothing from writing this, apart from a warm fluffy feeling…
FEEDBACK:  Yes, please! Needed like a needy thing with needy
wheels on!
DEDICATION:  To Ghosts Forge, for setting us some brilliant
challenges, and for being a generally marvellous list-dad - *Very*
belated Anniversary and Birthday wishes! Thanks also to Michelle, for
the rapid beta.

~~~~~~~~

'You are cordially invited to… blah, blah, blah…' Angel barely
registered the rest of the words written on the stiff vellum. His
head hit his inordinately large desk with a strangle cry of 'Crap!
Crap! Crap!' As if he wasn't already in a bad mood.

'Whatcha doin''

Oh no, not now. Anything but…

'Spike. Not now, I'm busy.'

'Doin' what?' The bleached vampire took a seat on Angel's desk.

'Things…' replied Angel, tersely.

'What kinda things…?' Spike picked up a paperweight and began to toss
it idly from hand to hand.

'Oh, you *are* kidding me, right?' Angel glared at Spike in
disbelief. 'I mean the 'terminal ADHD' *is* an act, isn't it? Or am I
going to have to have you put on Ritalin?'

'Aww… Bad news, Angel? Has your subscription to 'Brooding Monthly'
been cancelled?' The paperweight slipped from Spike's hand and went
crashing to the floor. 'Oops, butterfingers…' He made as if to pick
up the pieces.

'Don't bother, I'll get it.' Angel walked around to the front of his
desk and began to pick up the remains of another priceless artefact,
lost forever.

'So, you've been invited to Wolfram & Hart's annual CEO weekend then,
eh?' Spike asked rhetorically, waving the invitation slowly back and
forth in one hand.

Angel realised he'd been played. He sprung up from his position on
the floor and made a grab for the offending piece of card, but Spike
was irritatingly faster. It always amazed Angel how Spike could
manage to outrun, outsmart - out-anything him, so long as the result
would be sure to piss him off. Angel launched himself at Spike once
again, but his childe leapt up onto the desk and out of his way again.

'Hey! It says here 'plus one'. Does that mean that you get to bring a
date then?' Spike leapt off the desk again and landed on the other
side, closely pursued by Angel.

They played a ridiculous game of 'chasing-round-the-desk', until
Angel roared, 'Give me that… NOW!' barely suppressing his game face.

Seemingly satisfied that he'd successfully got on Angel's one
remaining nerve, Spike tossed the invitation casually onto the desk
with, 'You only had to ask…'

Angel calmly repeated his mantra of 'I will not stake my childe, I
will not stake my childe' to himself and sat down again.

'So, who's your date then, Angel?'

'Spike. I am *not* taking a date. We are *not* having this
conversation. In fact, you are *not* in this office.' Calm. Breathe.

'But I *am* in this…'

'Sense the tone, Spike…'

'So, these Wolfram & Hart thingies…'

'GET OUT!' Angel's rage took him clean over the desk and barrelling
straight into Spike. He picked the blonde up by his duster, opened
the office door and hurled him bodily into the corridor before calmly
shutting the door again.

~~~~~~~~

'Hey! Watch the leather!' Spike yelled indignantly at the closed
door. He made a huge show of getting up off the floor and dusting
himself down.

Not a single one of the Wolfram & Hart employees batted an eyelid.
Even Harmony. Spike guessed that they were probably getting used to
his and Angel's arguments by now, which frequently ended up with
Spike being tossed on his arse into a corridor.

He tried the door again. It was locked.

'Angel…'

'Go away, Spike.'

'Can't I just…'

'NO!'

'Poof,' he muttered, stalking away while he still had *some* pride
intact.

Still, the day had not been wasted. 'So,' Spike mused aloud to
himself, 'Angel's been called on by the Senior Partners, and he needs
a date if he's going to show good form. I wonder who he'll ask
first…?'

Spike let out a decidedly demonic chuckle, as he wandered off down
the corridor…

~~~~~~~~

Angel thought about the invitation all afternoon.

Angel was *still* thinking about the invitation when he wearily
trudged up to his penthouse apartment at around three in the morning.

He knew from files he'd read on the company, that they threw one of
these bashes every year for all the CEOs and senior staff of Wolfram
& Hart's branch offices. But Angel certainly hadn't expected to get
an invite himself, the LA branch being something of a wildcard these
days - annihilated by a demon and rising from its ashes to be taken
over by the very people who were only too glad to see it defeated in
the first place. Strange times…

When Angel stepped out of the shower and climbed gratefully between
the sheets of his large bed, he was *still* thinking about it. He
clicked off the bedside light and closed his eyes. For almost half an
hour, he tried to put the implications of his situation out of his
mind, but it wouldn't rest.

Resignedly, he clicked the light back on, picked up one of the files
he'd brought upstairs and began to read about the Wolfram & Hart
staff get-togethers of the past…

They were held pretty much every year - apocalypses permitting - and
essentially, they weren't much different from any other large-scale
corporate function; huge hotel, networking over cocktails, evening
meal, social gathering, an overnight stay and an enormous expense
claim. Oh, except these were held in another dimension.

Over the years, Angel read, the travelling arrangements and special
requirements of a number of the attendees had proved too complex to
continue holding it in the cities of its offices. And since Wolfram &
Hart was a multi-dimensional law firm, it made sense to pick
somewhere where everyone could be accommodated. So, attendees were
simply provided with a portal to the chosen dimension - no more
problems.

Then there was the 'date' part… He was pretty sure that it was
nothing more than a power thing, but nonetheless, the records were
very clear on the importance of that 'plus one partner, mate or
concubine'. In fact, there was no mention anywhere of any CEO who had
*not* brought someone, which Angel thought was very telling in itself.

'Damn it!' he cursed to himself. The fact of the matter was - he
didn't have a date. Neither did he have a partner, or a mate, and he
certainly didn't have a concubine…!

Of course, Cordelia would have made the perfect date for an occasion
like this; immaculately dressed, absolutely stunning, and impeccably
polite to all the right people. But sadly, that wasn't to be.

He briefly considered trying to track down Buffy, before deciding
that bringing a Slayer to a demonic law firm's corporate event would
probably be the fastest way to end his already less-than-illustrious
career with said law firm.

Eventually, Angel decided that the best thing would be to ask a
female friend and colleague to accompany him on a purely platonic
basis. Unfortunately, these criteria left him with a list of just
one… Fred.

Angel sighed and turned off the lamp once more. It was just something
he'd have to deal with… in the morning.

~~~~~~~~

'I just don't understand it. It was all going so well yesterday,'
Fred moaned for the fourth time that morning.

''S okay, Pet. I'll help you sort it out.'

'Thanks, Spike, but I'm not sure there's anything you can do. I guess
I'll just have to go back over my calculations and start again. I
just don't understand it…'

Spike smiled in what he hoped was a sympathetic fashion at the
harassed scientist, and headed for the door… just in time to see
Angel coming through it. Spike decided to stay, after all.

'Hi, Fred. How's it going?' Angel asked, with false cheer.

'Oh. Well, it's not so…'

'Good, good. Can I talk to you for a minute?'

'Yeah, I guess.' Fred put down her sheaf of scribbled notes and
perched on a stool, expectantly.

I've, er… Well, the thing is… I mean… Would you, er…'

Spike had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out
loud. He certainly didn't want to draw Angel's attention to the fact
that he was still there. But this? This was priceless! He found
himself wishing he'd had the sense to bring popcorn…

'Did you… want something, Angel? Only…' Fred made a vague gesture to
indicate that she, at least, wasn't getting any younger, and would he
care to get his bloody great size tens out of his gob and get to the
flaming point.

At least, that was how Spike interpreted it.

'Yeah, um… You see, I have to do this thing… for the company… and I
need someone to, er... be with me… at this thing…I guess what I'm
trying to say is, er… would you consider being that someone… who, er…
comes with me… to the thing…?'

Spike was running out of things to cram into his mouth. This was the
great Angelus, seducer of all creatures? Spike thought it was a
bloody miracle that he'd got laid at all, if this was his usual come-
on routine.

Finally, the penny dropped for Fred.

'Oh! You want me to… with you? On a company… thing? Together… sort
of…'

On second thoughts, maybe they were perfectly suited…

'Yes.' Angel breathed an audible sigh of relief.

'Oh, I'd love to, but… Well, I'm working on this new trans-
dimensional portal scanner for some really important clients, and it
was all going to plan yesterday, but now… well, it couldn't scan its
way out of a wet paper bag today. I'm sorry, Angel, but I won't have
time to leave the lab for the rest of the week, and that's if I'm
lucky.'

'Oh…'

'It was lucky that Spike was here this morning and spotted the loose
wires. Otherwise, the beam could have gotten reversed and I might
have transported the whole of the west coast into another dimension.
Me and portals, huh…?' She smiled, weakly.

'So, *Spike* was looking at it this morning?'

'Yeah. He's been really helpful, too. Assisting me with the repairs
and all.'

'Has he now…'

Spike felt the weight of his sire's stare fall upon him, and
immediately assumed his most innocent-looking pose.

'Just, making myself useful, y'know…?'

'Oh, I know, Spike. *Believe* me, I know…' and with a glare that
could've melted steel, Angel turned and stalked out of the lab.

Spike laughed gleefully to himself. One down…

~~~~~~~~

It was the same story across the whole of the company; sudden
deadlines, increased workloads, colleague absences, and a whole load
of projects that seemed to have taken one step forward and two steps
back overnight.

Not a single female member of staff that he'd asked had been able to
accompany him. Of course, as CEO he could have insisted that they
made time in their schedules, but that just seemed so… well…
desperate!

And to top it all, Angel just *knew* that Spike was responsible - he
just couldn't prove it. Although, why Spike would want to stop him
from going to this event was what was really puzzling.

He called a meeting of the Angel Investigations team, minus Fred who
was still working in the lab, to explain the problem.

'So that's it? Not one female is available in the whole company?'
Gunn asked, incredulously.

'That's it,' Angel confirmed.

'You've asked *everyone*?' said Lorne.

'Well, pretty much…' He hesitated…

'You *do know* what you gotta do, don't you…?' said Gunn.

'Okay, okay, I'll ask her…' Angel sighed, pressed the button on the
intercom and said, 'Harmony, could you come in here for a moment,
please.'

Immediately, it buzzed back with, 'If this is about that date thing,
boss, I'm not available either. Seems there's been some kinda mix up
in Demon Resources and now, like, half the typing pool are on
vacation for the next week, so I have to fill in. Thanks for asking
me though… eventually!' and it clicked off again in a decidedly terse
fashion.

'Whoa! Blown out by Harm… That's gotta hurt…'

Angel glared pointedly at Gunn's barely suppressed laughter, and the
lawyer found something very interesting on the carpet that required
his full attention.

'So,' Angel continued, 'I'm thinking that maybe one of you guys could
do the honours…? In a purely professional capacity, I mean...
obviously.'

Looks of horror passed from human to demon and back to human again.

'Oh come on, it won't be that bad. Fancy hotel, executive suite… free
bar?' The last point was directed at Lorne, who at least looked
tempted.

'Well, I would, man,' Gunn began, 'but you know I got that big case
starting Thursday. If I'm not there to defend our client then there's
a very good chance that he'll eat the judge, and that does *not* look
good in the company newsletter.'

'Okay,' Angel sighed. 'Wesley?'

'Likewise, Angel. I'm afraid I have an enormous amount of research
that has to be done on a talisman that's been brought to us by a very
high profile client. Leaving the office now is really out of the
question… Sorry.'

'Lorne?' Angel said finally, trying to keep the edge of desperation
out of his voice.

'Angelcakes, you know I'd stow away in your suitcase for the free bar
alone…'

'But…?'

'But… I have the launch party for Mariah's new album this weekend.'

'Mariah's one of ours?' Angel asked.

'You have another explanation for 'Glitter'?'

'Good point.' Angel leant back in his executive leather chair and
closed his eyes. 'So, that's it. Basically, I'm screwed.'

'Not just yet,' began Wesley. 'There may be one option that you've
yet to consider.'

'I am *not* asking Eve. She's not female, and possibly not human
either! And besides… she'll already be there.'

'I was actually thinking of Spike.'

Angel froze for a split second, and then threw his head back and
laughed out loud until the tears were practically rolling down his
face. He hadn't laughed like that in years.

'Oh, Wesley,' he chuckled, wiping his eyes. 'Thank you so much for
that, I really needed ohdeargodyou'reseriousaren'tyou?'

'Well, it makes rather good sense when you think about it.'

'I *have* thought about it! Did you not just see the Spike-induced
hysteria?'

'What I mean is, he's part of your family line, which shows
longevity. And same sex couples are more widely accepted within
vampire lore, so that shouldn't be a problem either.'

As the steam threatened to come out of Angel's ears, he could've
sworn that the tiniest of smirks crossed Wesley's lips. Then before
he could reply, and right on cue, Spike came waltzing in through the
door.

'Ah, Spike,' Wesley continued. 'Just the person. Do you have any
plans for this weekend? Only, Angel requires an escort to the Wolfram
& Hart function, and we were wondering if you'd be able to accompany
him?'

'Oh, your date thing, right?' Spike asked, innocently.

Angel nodded almost imperceptibly, which was just about all he
trusted himself to manage without exploding.

'Yeah, I don't see why not. Haven't got any plans I couldn't cancel.'

'Marvellous! That's all settled then.'

Then Angel understood. The large-scale workload sabotage hadn't been
to stop him from going - it had been to make sure that he took Spike!

With everyone else satisfied that the situation had been resolved,
they left the office. Angel slumped forwards onto his desk for the
second time in as many days, and quietly wondered how the hell he
managed to get himself into these situations…

~~~~~~~~

For the next two days, Angel was unbearable. He yelled at Wesley, he
yelled at Fred, he yelled at Gunn, he yelled at Spike (who calmly
gave him the finger) and he yelled at Harmony until she cried so much
that Lorne had to give her the rest of the day off.

At this point, Lorne suggested that if he didn't have anything nice
to say, perhaps he should consider keeping his trap shut and minding
his own sodding business… or words to that effect.

From then on, Angel remained in his penthouse. Probably sulking.

On Saturday at precisely twelve noon, as instructed by Angel in a
strongly worded memo, Spike was waiting in Angel's office. He'd also
been instructed to fill out a registration form, stating his name,
species and relationship to Angel. *That'd* been a lot of fun. He'd
managed 'Spike' and 'Vampire' fairly easily for questions one and
two, but the possibilities for question three were endless. He'd
briefly toyed with 'immortal enemy', and 'pain in the arse'. He
almost went with 'master' just to watch Angel explode, before
dutifully sticking down 'childe' and leaving it at that.

A few seconds later, the elevator 'pinged' to signal His Broodiness'
arrival from upstairs. He was dressed in a simple black wool sweater
with tailored black pants and carried an immaculate Louis Vuitton
overnight bag with a matching suit carrier.

Spike wore his favourite black jeans, a tight black t-shirt and his
duster, and carried a small rucksack.

Angel gave him a withering look and stepped into the centre of the
office. There was a kind of odd shimmery effect and a whooshing noise
as the portal appeared, and Angel calmly stepped through it without a
word.

Spike approached it more cautiously, first sticking his arm through,
which made it feel all tingly, before finally stepping all the way
through. There was more tingling and that dropping feeling you get
when you lose your stomach on a roller coaster… and then it was over.
The portal had closed behind him, and Spike found himself standing in
the middle of a hotel lobby.

To say that the hotel was 'grand', was a bit like saying that the
Empire State Building was 'fairly tall', or that the Sistine Chapel
was 'quite pretty'. It oozed luxury from everywhere, from its ornate
glass ceiling (necro-tempered, judging by the lack of flames) right
down to its glossy marble floor. The lobby appeared to be a central
atrium, looked down upon from every floor that circled it.
Eventually, Spike remembered to stop gawking and hurried over to the
reception desk where Angel was standing in line.

The receptionist was a beautiful shade of the palest turquoise, with
dark turquoise hair that looked as though it was made up of tiny
living strands. As Spike got closer, he realised that there *were*
tiny living strands, which identified her as a Ge'hesh demon - a
completely harmless race and very eager to please others, but rarely
seen outside of their own dimension. He pulled up to a halt next to
his sire, who was being greeted.

'Welcome to the complex, Mr Angel. We've been expecting you.' The
receptionist smiled and fluttered her deep-blue lashes. 'Here's your
key: suite four-seven-three on the fifth floor. I hope you enjoy your
stay.'

Angel waited patiently while she turned back to her computer screen.
After a few seconds, she looked up at him.

'Was there something else I can help you with?' she enquired,
politely.

'Yes. The key for my... my…'

'Date?' Spike supplied, helpfully.

'Oh…' she gave them both a look of genuine surprise. 'I was given to
believe that you and your… your…'

'Date?' Spike supplied again.

'He's NOT my date…'

'…that you would be sharing a suite. What with you both being
vampires…' she trailed off without elaborating any further on the
last part.

'Well, I'm sorry but you've been misinformed. Spike will be requiring
his own suite.'

'Hell yeah!' Spike agreed, enthusiastically. 'A big one, too. With a
bar… and a hot tub!'

'I'm terribly sorry, but the entire hotel is booked up for the
Wolfram & Hart contingent. We have no spare rooms at all for this
weekend.' She began to look a little flustered.

'Could you at least check?' asked Angel.

'I have checked, Mr Angel. We are…'

'Then check again.' The receptionist and her hair backed away from
him slightly. 'We'll take anything - a spare broom cupboard if you
have one.'

'Hey!'

'I really am sorry,' her voice shook a little, 'but we have nothing
available at all.' By now, her hair was beginning to look quite
alarmed, the tiny strands pulling themselves backwards in a group
attempt to get away.

'So let me get this straight. There are *no* available rooms in the
hotel. At all.'

'That's correct. I really can't apologise enough, Mr Angel, but as
all the other delegates are sharing a suite with their… their…'

'Yes, yes. All right. ' Angel interrupted, before Spike could manage
to say 'date' again. 'Thank you for you help.' He snatched up his
bags and stalked off, leaving both the receptionist and her hair,
looking very relieved.

Spike jogged to catch up with him.

'So…'

'Not a word, Spike. Not. A. Word…'

         

 

 

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