Enemy Incognito

By Wynn

Chapter Twenty-One: Power Play

Angel sat at his desk, fingers deftly flipping through random case files, his mind preoccupied on his soon-to-be arriving guests. Spike and Buffy. Buffy and Spike. The two of them. Together. Alone. Willingly.

Frowning slightly, Angel laid the manila folders on his desk and leaned back in his leather chair. He hadn't heard from Spike since he had returned to Sunnydale. Faith had mentioned in their last phone conversation that Spike had been in contact with Buffy, but she had been typically indifferent and unusually hostile about all matters concerning the blonde Slayer. Had Buffy accepted Spike's apology? Were they friends? Or could they barley hold a civil conversation? The latter seemed unlikely since Spike was accompanying her to L.A.

What if they were more than friends? Angel grimaced as a mental image of Buffy and Spike kissing invaded his consciousness. That wasn't a sight he wanted to see. Ever. Angel hoped the two were able to work together without bickering or fighting or kissing or groping. He didn't want to have to play babysitter to the two blondes. Being a father to an unruly, uncooperative, uncommunicative seventeen year old demon killer was stressful enough.

"Any word on our two wayward guests, Tall, Dark, and Broody One?"

Glancing at Lorne, Angel straightened in his chair and placed his elbows on his desk, supporting his chin with his clasped hands. "No. They should be here soon."

"Good," Lorne said as he sat in one of the two chairs opposite Angel. "I'm dying to meet these blondes from your past. Here's hoping they're more agreeable than the other blonde from your past." Lorne shook his head. "Darla was full of surprises, though, to say the least. She's a vampire, she's human, then she's a vampire again. And popping out the bundle of sweetness and light that is your son was the end all and be all of surprises."

"Connor's gotten a lot better since he came back."

Lorne nodded solemnly. "Yes. That is if you consider 'better' evolving from moody silences and intense glaring to more moody silences and intense glaring."

"At least he's stopped trying to kill us." Angel paused. "Well, except for that time right after you got back from Vegas. But Connor didn't really mean it. He…" Off Lorne's look, Angel sighed and rose out of his chair. Maneuvering past the dark wood desk, he left his office, moving into the hotel lobby. Fred sat before the agency computer, her dark glasses perched high on her nose, her face close to the screen.

"Found anything?" Angel asked as he peered over her shoulder at the computer.

Fred shook her head and looked at Angel. "No. There isn't any connection between Lilah and Sunnydale in Wolfram and Hart's files. A few mentions of the Hellmouth in connection to you but not anything else. If Lilah really wanted to take out your friends in Sunnydale, I doubt she'd be careless and leave traceable computer records."

"Worth checking out just in case. Thanks, Fred." Angel looked up from the computer, his dark gaze searching the empty lobby. "Gunn and Connor aren't back yet?"

Fred slid off her stool and backed away from Angel and the computer. She stopped next to Lorne, glancing at him before briefly looking at Angel. "Um, Charles called a few minutes ago. They should be back soon. Any minute now."

Angel glanced between Fred and Lorne. Neither looked at him. Angel sighed again and rubbed his fingers across his temples to stave off the teenage son induced migraine. "What happened now?"

Lorne shrugged. "Nothing, really. They had a slight disagreement… again."

"What was it this time?"

The twin front doors to the hotel burst open. Gunn stormed into the lobby, covered from head to toe with grime and filth. His axe was broken, the end of the handle dangling, hanging by a few slivers of wood. "I don't care if you're John Wayne, Conan the Barbarian, and the Lone Ranger all in one, little man! You follow my orders!"

Connor slunk into the hotel, arms folded across his chest, one sleeve of his T-shirt torn and bloodied. "I had an opening. I took it."

Throwing his axe to the floor, Gunn whirled, coming face to face with Connor. "No! What you did was deliberately disobey my order and my plan! Again. Which caused an all out brawl that could've gotten real ugly real quick if the rest of their crew had been there."

Smirking, Connor said, "Didn't know you were scared of fighting, Gunn."

"Scared?" Gunn laughed as he shook his head slowly. A humorless smile crossed his face as he said, "I'll show you scared." He lunged at Connor, catching him in a vicious tackle. The two men sailed across the hotel lobby, crashing through the glass double doors leading to the hotel's courtyard. They rolled down the stone steps, colliding with the patio's massive granite fountain.

Angel, Fred, and Lorne stared at the broken doors. Shaking out of his shocked stupor, Lorne stepped next to Angel and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Glad to see the little hellspawn is reintegrating himself into the group and not trying to kill us anymore."

Closing his eyes, Angel drew in a deep calming breath. Hundreds of years spent in hell, over a hundred years of living with Darla, Dru, and Spike simultaneously, three years of living and working with Cordelia. Incalculable hours spent brooding and honing his patience to precision so he could handle anything, anyone without breaking a sweat. And it was all shot to hell by his son in less than two months.

The mighty power of the teenage boy.

Angel set off across the lobby, stepping through the smashed glass doors into the courtyard. Gunn and Connor had taken the fight into the fountain. Through the shooting sprays of water and flying elbows, growls of pain and muttered curses, Angel saw Buffy and Spike. They stood near the street entrance to the courtyard, bags still in hand, shocked and amused expressions on their faces as they watched Connor and Gunn grapple in the leaf strewn, muddy water of the fountain.

Striding across the patio, Angel grasped the back of Gunn's T-shirt and hauled him out of the water. He grunted as Gunn elbowed him in the stomach, his grip loosening enough for Gunn to wriggle free and launch himself at Connor again. Angel heard soft laughter; he looked at Spike, his brown eyes narrowing as he saw Spike quickly stifle his laughter and plaster a fake, innocent smile on his face. "Would you care to help me, William? Or do you want to make me really angry and remain standing there while they try to kill each other?"

Chuckling, Spike set his bag onto the stone tiles and moved towards the fountain. He grabbed Connor's arm as Angel latched onto Gunn. The two vampires tore the irate men away from each other, dragging them to opposite ends of the courtyard.

Angel stumbled up the stone steps to the lobby, dragging a dripping wet Gunn behind him. He pushed the soaked man into the hotel and said, "Go inside and get cleaned up. I'll talk to Connor. Again."

"Whatever, man." Without looking back, Gunn reentered the hotel, leaving puddles of muddy water trailing after him.

"Hey! What the-"

Angel spun, his dark eyes locking onto Connor and Spike. Connor had a stake clasped in his hand, which he brought down towards Spike's chest. Sprinting across the courtyard, Angel skidded to a halt as the stake flew from Connor's hand and the boy toppled to the ground, his face pressed into the cold stone tiles by a livid Buffy.

Connor wriggled beneath Buffy, attempting to throw her off him. "Let me go!"

"Uh uh, junior." Buffy tightened her hold on the back of his neck and mashed his face harder into the ground. "Don't even try moving unless you seriously want me to kick your ass."

Angel took a few steps towards the pair. He flinched as Buffy dug her elbow into Connor's neck. "Uh, Buffy?"

"What?"

"I think you can let him up now."

Buffy shook her head. She glanced up at Angel, her hazel eyes flashing with anger. "Not until he apologizes to Spike and Gunn." Connor squirmed again, prompting Buffy to smack him across the back of his head with her free hand.

"That might be a while," Lorne said as he gingerly stepped through the demolished doors. He walked across the patio, a broad grin appearing on his face as he watched Buffy and Connor. "The word 'sorry' isn't a part of the little whippersnapper's vocab."

Buffy shrugged. "I got time."

Angel looked at Spike. He pointed to Buffy, silently prodding the blonde vampire into prying Buffy off of Connor. Spike glanced at Buffy then at Connor before settling his blue gaze on Angel again; he shrugged and walked around the Slayer and teenage demon killer, plopping into one of the wrought iron chairs circling the fountain. Scowling at Spike, Angel took another step forward and said, "Buffy-"

"No. These past few days have been a tad stressful and there is no way in hell I am going to put up with his attitude while I'm here. When he acts like a good little boy and says he's sorry, I'll let him up."

Grin growing wider on his face, Lorne sat in the chair next to Spike as he said, "I like her."

Spike smiled. "Me, too."

"I'm Lorne."

"Spike."

Angel looked around the courtyard, taking in the glinting shards of glass from the smashed doors strewn across the patio tiles; his ex-girlfriend, the Vampire Slayer, straddling his son, the child of two vampires, holding him facedown on the concrete while she waited for an apology; his grand-Childe, the 130 year old pain in the ass souled vampire, chatting with the green skinned, red eyed, horned demon from another dimension who moonlighted as a Vegas lounge singer. Angel sighed, shook his head, and sat next to Lorne and Spike, waiting for his son to get a clue and apologize to the tiny blonde California girl who had taken him down in less than a second.

* * *

Five of the six members composing the Inner Circle sat in their assigned chairs surrounding the gleaming cherry table, all waiting for the sixth member to arrive. Never had a member been late to one of their clandestine meetings. It was not allowed. The man in charge detested anything that interrupted his schedules, so meeting times were strictly followed. The man was easier to deal with and their meetings were shorter when he was not irritated.

The man in charge glanced at his watch, eyes hardening as he realized she was twenty minutes late. Twenty. He shifted in his chair, his gaze darting to the man opposite him, taking in the other's nonchalant slouch in his plush leather chair. The head of the Inner Circle frowned at the man's subtle disrespectful demeanor; his behavior of late had become impossible to predict, making him potentially very dangerous to the man in charge. But that was not the man's primary concern. Not when his second in command had gone rogue.

The heavy door at the end of the narrow hall slid open and the second in command of the Inner Circle strode into the lush meeting hall. Her stride was slow and confident, showing no signs of nervousness at her obvious tardiness. She approached the gleaming oak table, flashing the other members a carefree grin as she moved towards her chair.

"It is very gracious of you to bless us with your presence, Lilah," the man in charge said as Lilah took her customary seat to his right. "Perhaps you may arrive on time at our next gathering."

Lilah set her briefcase on the floor beside her. She smoothed a hand over her thick auburn hair and crossed her legs beneath the circular table. "Something suddenly came up that required my immediate attention."

"Yes, well, would that something have anything to do with the assassins you sent after Buffy Summers and her cohorts?"

Lilah leaned back in her chair and casually crossed her arms across her chest. "No. It was Wolfram and Hart business. I've been so swamped ever since the Senior Partners promoted me to the head of Special Projects."

The man smiled, a small cold grin twisting of his lips. "Apparently your business with the firm has not prevented you from implementing your own plan to eliminate the Slayers. Although you must not have devoted much time and energy to these assassins of yours, if their lack of success is any indication."

Lilah shrugged. "They served their purpose. And they did more damage to Buffy, Faith, and the rest than your band of Larouse demons."

"Did you give any consideration to the fact that they could be tracked back to you, leading the Slayer directly to us and severely interfering in our plans for the Hellmouth?"

Barely suppressing the urge to roll her eyes at the man's obsession with secrecy, Lilah said, "I thought about it. The possibility of the gang in Sunnydale discovering my connection to the assassins doesn't concern me. Any action taken by me against them will look like an assault from Wolfram and Hart itself, especially if they turn to Angel for help in learning all there is to know about little old me. Becoming involved with the Hellmouth will seem a natural extension from our dealings with Angel." Lilah paused. Her gaze flickered around the table, pausing on each member, settling on the man to her right. She almost chuckled at his unconcerned posture and appearance. Dissension among the ranks. Returning her dark eyes to the man in charge, she said, "Plus, there isn't any sort of record connecting me to all of you. When you approached me to join your Circle of six, you were very discreet. I doubt even the Senior Partners know about this. So your secret's safe with me."

Flushing with anger at her indifferent tone, the man straightened in his chair. His voice was flat and cold as he said, "These meetings shall remain secret. If they do not remain so, I'm afraid unfortunate consequences will occur."

Lilah arched one eyebrow at the man's threat. She leaned forward, setting her clasped hands on the dark wood table. "Any consequences would be unfortunate indeed. For me and for you. You see all I have to do is breathe one word to the Senior Partners and all of your little plans will vanish like a puff of smoke. One word. Hellmouth. Interest will be piqued, especially due to the Slayer's connection to Angel, and action will be taken. And there is nothing you would be able to do to stop it. Nothing." Lilah smiled again as she rose from her chair. Grasping the handle of her briefcase, she locked eyes with the man in charge and said, "I'm afraid I must be going. I have a meeting tomorrow with the Senior Partners I need to prepare for. If anything… important is discussed in the rest of this meeting, you can contact me through the usual channel."

Lilah backed away from the table. She turned and walked towards the exit, hips swaying, shoulders pushed back, and chin held high. She grasped the smooth brass handle and opened the door, sauntering out of the meeting hall into the crisp night air.

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