Enemy Incognito

By Wynn

Chapter Twenty-Two: Reunion

The door creaked open, the scrape of the hinges stirring the man sprawled across the king sized bed. Angel peeked into the room, quirking one eyebrow at Spike, who laid facedown on the midnight black sheets, the top of his head and the soles of his feet sticking out from beneath the satin fabric. Moving into the room, Angel pushed the door shut with his elbow, readjusted his grip on the two mugs of warm blood clasped in his hands, and made his way across the dark bedroom. He set one steaming cup on the nightstand beside the still slumbering Spike and turned on a small lamp, filling the room with soft light. Angel pulled a wicker rocker from the corner of the room over to the bed and slowly sat onto the chair, a half grin appearing on his face as the wicker twisted and groaned, the sounds echoing throughout the bedroom and causing Spike to squirm some more. The ash blonde pried open one eye and scowled at Angel from beneath the black blanket.

"Morning, sunshine," Angel said brightly. He took a sip from his mug, twisting the ceramic cup in his hand. He cocked his head to the side as he said, "Actually, I should say 'Mid-afternoon, sunshine' since it's about 3pm, but that sounds weird, doesn't it?"

Spike closed his eye at Angel's grating cheeriness. "And a Master Vampire named 'Angel' is perfectly normal?" he asked as he reopened his eyes. Spike pushed himself into a sitting position and yawned, blinking his eyes blearily as he groped for his cup on the nightstand. He drained the crimson contents in one gulp, his eyes watering as the fiery liquid slid down his throat. Bringing the mug close to his nose, Spike sniffed. He drew back, blue eyes flashing with fury, and hurled the mug at Angel. "What the hell did you put in there, you wanker?!"

Dodging the flying cup, Angel shrugged innocently and said, "Just some cayenne pepper and a bit of hot sauce. Only one bottle. Maybe two. And a bit of vinegar for flavor. Lucky for you, we were all out of garlic or I would have thrown some of that in there too."

Dragging a hand across his eyes, Spike wiped at the tears and said, "Are you still mad 'cause I wouldn't help you last night? It was your son that started everything. Not me."

"You could have helped."

Tilting his head to the side, Spike raised one eyebrow and said, "I did help. I pulled your kid out of the fountain and almost got staked for it."

"You could have-"

"Exactly what could I have done, Peaches? Asked Buffy really nicely to please stop mashing your kid's face into the ground?"

"Yes."

"I don't think so. I already did your dirty work once last night. I wasn't about to do it again."

Angel leaned back in the wicker rocking chair and took another sip from his mug of blood. He remained silent for a few moments, staring down at the floor, his silent contemplation bordering on brooding, before looking at Spike, his eyes heavy with anxiety. "How did she take it?" he asked quietly.

"How did who take what?"

Angel sighed. "Buffy. How did she react about Connor?"

"How do you think she took it?" Spike shifted on the bed, straightening the ebony comforter that had twisted around his legs.

"Spike?"

"She was a little brassed off." Spike grimaced at the extreme understatement. A little brassed off did not even begin to cover the range of emotions Buffy had exhibited upon learning about Connor. Most of the emotions concerned Angel and her intense desire to smack the brunette upside the head with a baseball bat. Spike looked at Angel and said, "She wasn't pissed about you having the kid. Just about the fact that you made me tell her."

"I didn't make you tell her," Angel protested. "I suggested you tell her so she wouldn't be surprised when you two got here."

Raising one eyebrow, Spike folded his arms across his chest and said, "You could've told her over the phone."

Angel rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "It-it's not the sort of revelation you make over the phone. It's like you and your soul. You didn't call Buffy up and tell her about your soul over the phone. You went to Sunnydale and told her yourself. In person." Angel paused, his brown eyes closely inspecting Spike. "You did tell her right?"

"She knows. And I didn't get you to tell her for me. I did it myself. Sort of." Spike pushed the blanket off him and swung his legs onto the floor. He reached for his wrinkled black T-shirt as he said, "You were too much of a sissy to tell her yourself."

Mouth dropping open in shock, Angel stood from the chair, huffing indignantly at the accusation of being scared of Buffy. "I was not a sissy. I didn't think it would be appropriate to tell her over the phone. 'Hey, Buff. How are you? Guess what? I have a teenage son. Yeah, he was born a year ago but he's 17 now. Who's the mother? Darla. Oh, you didn't know Darla was alive? Well, she's was but not anymore. See you in a few hours.'"

"How much longer do you plan on having this imaginary, one sided conversation with Buffy? I need to go brush my teeth and get rid of the blazing inferno that is my mouth."

Ignoring Spike, Angel continued, "And there wouldn't have been any opportunity to tell her myself in person when she got here. 'Hey, Buffy. There's something I need to tell you. Who is that? That's my son Connor. Let's go say hello.'"

Spike sighed as he pulled the cotton shirt over his head and smoothed the fabric across his stomach. "Who're you trying to convince? Me or you? Look, you know Buffy reasonably well. Good enough to make a guess on how she'd react to the news that you have a kid with Darla. Why're you in here bothering me about it?"

A pained look crossed Angel's face. "Buffy wants to talk with me. And I'd rather not have the conversation with her mashing my face into the carpet."

Smirking, Spike said, "It was only four hours. Well, really five 'cause as soon as Buffy let the kid up he was stupid enough to pick a fight with her." Spike shrugged and walked around the bed. He stopped in front of Angel and said, "I wouldn't worry about any face mashing though. You don't have any baseball bats, do you?"

"What?"

Spike shook his head as he grabbed Angel's arm and drug the brunette towards the door. Nudging the door open with his foot, Spike shoved Angel out into the hall. "You'll be fine. Just remember you're bigger than her and older than her and possess a powerful demon inside you, but she can still kick your ass faster than you can say 'Brood.' Have fun now." A wide grin crossed Spike's face as he slammed the door on Angel, leaving the slightly shell shocked and nervous Master Vampire alone in the hall to prepare for his talk with Buffy.

* * *

Anya held the miniature camera before her. She twisted the tiny recording device in her hands, examining the delicate electronic equipment, experimentally tapping on the lens and poking at the buttons. She and Giles had discovered the camera earlier that morning, lodged high in the wall between the training room and the rest of the Magic Box. "When do you think it was put in?" Anya asked Giles as she set the camera onto the metal table situated in the center of the shop.

Giles turned away from the recently restored front window and walked over to the table. Picking up the camera, Giles said, "I'm not certain. Possibly when the construction workers rebuilt the loft. One of them could have been paid by Lilah Morgan to plant the camera."

"We used Xander's crew to rebuild the loft." Anya snatched the camera from Giles and held it before her. She inspected the device for a few moments before returning the camera to the table. "Maybe they're an evil construction crew. Maybe Xander's not really in England. He could be working covertly with this Morgan woman to kill us all. Maybe he and Black Magic Willow are working together to do us in for foiling her attempts to blow up the world."

Sighing in exasperation, Giles said, "Anya, I severely doubt Xander and Willow are working with the person or persons involved in the recent assassination attempts."

Anya sat on one of the four stools surrounding the table and chewed thoughtfully on one fingernail. "And how do you know this coven woman you talked to this morning was really the woman you knew from the coven? Maybe it's Lilah in disguise, and you invited her top two killing machines to town."

"Anya-"

"I am only trying to preserve an open mind here and consider all of the possibilities." Anya paused, face pinched in concentration as visions of potential traitors flew through her head. She straightened on her stool and said, "Hey, for all we know Emilia and her impressively large male friend are working with Lilah too."

Giles stared at Anya for a few moments, mouth open in shock. He blinked a few times and removed his glasses, placing them on the table beside the camera. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sat on one of the stools and said, "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Emilia wouldn't-"

"I mean what do we know about her? Besides the fact that she's an Elf."

"How do you know she's an Elf?"

Anya gave Giles a look. "It's a little bit obvious, isn't it? Shiny silver hair, big purple eyes… you think everyday ordinary humans look like that?"

"Well, no, but she's not involved in this."

Nodding, Anya clasped her hands and leaned across the table, bringing her face close to Giles. "And what sort of proof do you have to support your claim of her innocence?"

Giles crossed his arms across his chest. "I don't need any proof. I know her. She's not involved in this."

"How do you know her exactly? As many details as you can recall of your history with this alleged conspirator will only help strengthen her claim of innocence. So… spill."

Giles opened his mouth and drew in a deep breath, preparing to reveal the details of his history with Emilia. He glanced at Anya out of the corners of his eyes; she stared intently at him, her body tense with anticipation, eyes alight with curiosity. Giles paused, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, before he said, "Exactly how late were you, Faith, and Dawn up last night working out this little… plan to learn more about Emilia and myself?"

Anya pushed away from the table, rising off her stool and crossing her arms across her chest. She tilted her chin in the air, an innocent, wounded look in her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. There is no plan. How could you think such a thing? All we're- um, I mean, all I'm trying to do is look out for the safety of everyone involved in this- this…" Off of Giles' look, Anya sighed and returned to her stool. "Crap. Ok, so maybe we talked a little about the best way to dig up the dirt on your relationship with the Elf. How could we not? It's not everyday you have a gorgeous woman, a frickin Elf for crying out loud, that you have some sort of mysterious, possibly sexy, history with who suddenly pops back into your life, now is it? How can we not be curious?"

Giles smiled. "While I appreciate the interest you three have taken in my life, I think I will keep the details of it to myself." Standing, he reached for his glasses and placed them in the pocket of his shirt. Giles grabbed the miniature camera and moved away from the table, walking towards the front door. "I'm going back to Buffy's. Maybe Dawn can discover some sort of information regarding this device off of the computer."

Scrambling off her stool, Anya followed him, slipping in front of him and blocking his path to the door. "Just one little detail. I tell you everything about my life, even the sweaty sex parts."

"For which I am eternally grateful."

"You can at least tell me how you two met," Anya said, inching in front of Giles as he tried to maneuver around her.

"How who met?"

Anya spun, coming face to face with Xander. He stood in the open doorway, staring at Anya, curiosity shining from his dark brown eyes. His black hair had grown out a few inches and he had lost weight, his muscles lean and toned beneath his blue T-shirt. Anya stared at him, feeling the familiar twinge of butterflies in her stomach, a feeling not felt since before the wedding that wasn't. Sucking in a shaky breath, Anya said, "How Giles and Emilia met. She's an Elf he used to know during his Ripper days who has recently reappeared in his life."

His brown eyes cutting from Anya to Giles, Xander said, "An Elf? As in one of Santa's Elves?"

Giles sighed again and shook his head. "No, not as in Santa's Elves. She's one of an ancient race of powerful beings. Elves are the opposite of most demons. They are pure light a-and energy, creative and healing forces, although a few have been known to create chaos and destruction. There are very rare and mostly reside in solitude." Giles smiled. "Except Emilia. She's always lived among humans."

"So she's like Galadriel from Lord of the Rings. Except for the living with people part."

"Who… Oh!" Anya said, the proverbial light bulb going off above her head. "That's the movie with the little people with the funny feet and the gold ring that makes everyone invisible."

Xander nodded. A soft smile curved his lips as he said, "Yeah. I didn't think you'd, um, remember the movie."

Anya shrugged, turning her head to the side to avoid Xander's gaze. She smoothed a hand over her hair as she said, "You took me to watch it four times. It's a little hard to forget."

"Yeah…"

"Yeah…"

Glancing between the Xander and Anya, Giles cleared his throat, interrupting the uncomfortable silence that stretched between them. He said to Xander, "I didn't expect the coven to send you back so soon. Where is Willow?"

"She's at the apartment, finishing up a meditation exercise. The Hellmouth vibe has her a little on edge. Along with whatever nasty caused you to call us in Jolly Old England." Xander glanced down at Giles' hands, his brown eyes locking onto the small camera. "Taking up photography? Or are you planning on becoming a Peeping Tom?"

"The camera was used to spy on us. Specifically on Buffy and Faith. We found it here in the shop."

"In the shop?" Xander looked at Anya and Giles, shock and confusion spreading across his face.

"A lot has happened since you went to England, Xander," Giles said. "Perhaps it would be best if we went to your apartment so I could tell both you and Willow what has occurred." As Xander nodded his ascent, Giles turned to Anya and said, "Would you go and check on Dawn and try to discover something about this camera? Also, see if there is a message from Buffy and Spike."

"Yeah." Anya took the camera from Giles and moved towards the open front door, her eyes briefly locking with Xander's. Maneuvering around him, she stepped through the door onto the sidewalk and disappeared down the sunlit street.

Xander watched her walk away, drawing in a deep breath and dragging a hand through his hair. His eyes widened as his brain finally processed Giles' request. "Buffy and Spike? Spike is back and with Buffy? Alone?"

Giles flashed the younger man a tight smile. "As I said before, a lot has happened in Sunnydale while you have been gone." Placing a hand on Xander's shoulder, Giles gently nudged him out the door and onto the sidewalk. He closed and locked the door behind him as he said quietly, "A whole hell of a lot has happened."

* * *

"Hi, Angel. Thanks for stopping by… No. Angel, thanks for coming over to… one of the rooms in your hotel. 'Cause the rooms are so far away from each other and you had to walk twelve miles through snow uphill both ways to get here. Yeah, real smooth, Buffy. Ok, once more with feeling, but no singing because that was beyond creepy… Anyway, Angel, the reason I asked you to come and talk is that I wanted to apologize for last night. Connor is your son and I had no right to sit on him for five hours in the middle of your courtyard… oh god."

Buffy stopped pacing and sat on the edge of the bed. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she looked around the room, hazel eyes flickering from her small bag of clothes and larger bag of weapons at the foot of the bed, to the door, then to the oak dresser residing along the far well, before flitting back to the door. She ran her hands through her golden tresses and stood, resuming her nervous pacing of the large bedroom.

"Angel. Hi! How have you been? Busy raising a charmer of a son… That's good, Buffy. Insult the kid. Ok… How have I been? I've been fine. My best friend tried to kill me and destroy the world, Faith and I tried to kill each other again, I was attacked by a group of icky pus demons and bunch of nasty men, an evil lawyer from L.A. is out to kill me, and I think I'm having more than friendly feelings towards your recently souled grand-Childe. I'm just peachy."

Maybe honesty wasn't the best policy in this conversation. Buffy didn't want to incite a dust-o-thon by having a heart to heart with Angel about Spike. "Just apologize for bitch slapping his son, yell at him for not telling me about Connor himself, and suddenly become a deaf mute with no capacity for communication whatsoever. Especially about blue eyed vampires named Spike." A light knock on the door caused Buffy to freeze. She stared wide-eyed at the door for a few seconds before forcing her body to cross the room and grasp the handle. She twisted the knob, pulled the door open, and plastered a smile on her face as Angel came into view.

"Hey, Angel."

"Buffy."

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