13.
After sunset Buffy made her way back to Spike’s basement apartment carrying a paper bag of take out food and a milkshake. She arrived to find Spike laying across his sofa in a listless stupor, casually fiddling with his joystick. Lurid colors flowed across the television screen as he made little attempt to engage in the game in any meaningful way. Percussive sounds of animated explosions and certain defeat casually punctuated his inertia.
“Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to be nice to people without something pointy for back up?” Buffy managed a weak smile. “It’s harder than I thought.”
Spike sprung from the sofa to her side. “Buffy! You’re back. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Harmony really flung me into the furnace though. Greeter is a bitch of a job but I’m up to the task. I would have been lost without Irma. She even let me operate the walkie-talkie. Pretty cool, huh?” After a day of relentless cheer and smiles, Buffy looked ready to collapse. She kicked off her shoes, walked over to the sofa and sat down. Spike joined her as she pulled a burger out of her paper bag and took a bite.
“Buffy, love, you know me, right?”
“Spike. What’s wrong?” Buffy licked her lips free of tartar sauce. “You look kinda weird.”
“This qualified as a weird day.”
“French fry?” Buffy held up her cup of fries.
“Buffy…” A helpless pause lengthened between them as Spike scrambled for words. “I don’t understand why you’d even want a job at Wolfram and Hart.”
“I need an income Spike, you know that. Besides, don’t you think it would be awesome to meet for lunch in the employee cafeteria? That’s a definite perk in my opinion.” Her eager expression startled him.
“Buffy, this makes no sense. You just got into town yesterday. Don’t you remember? You don’t even live in the States anymore.”
“Oh, I get it. Okay, I’ll admit the whole job thing seems a bit sudden but I’ve been wanting a change for a while now. Dawn likes the whole Europe deal but I’m so over that it’s not funny. I need to be home and now I am. Aren’t you happy that I’ve come to L.A.? We can be together now. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“It’s exactly what I want.”
“Then why the worry face?”
“Do I even have to say it?” Spike studied Buffy’s face carefully, not exactly sure what he was looking for. “Wolfram and Hart is evil, Buffy.” Obviously the basics weren’t sinking into her cranium. Spike persisted. “The opposite of good, which is what you are…what you fight for.”
On the surface Buffy appeared willing to acknowledge the problematic glitch in her new job euphoria. This evaporated when she began to speak.
“You know, sometimes I think I’ve limited myself in the whole good versus evil arena by being stake girl.” Buffy took another bite of her hamburger and chewed it thoughtfully. “What I’ve really needed is to branch out and stretch myself, explore different avenues in the struggle. And then it hit me, you know, the whole corporate connection? It was like a big, twinkly explosion in my head and I knew. I just knew.” She smiled and took a long slurpy pull on her strawberry milkshake.
“Buffy–“
“Wolfram and Hart is the perfect place for me. I can work my way up the ladder just like Harmony has done. I get goose bumps when I think about following in her footsteps. She schedules in house seminars for the top performers in each department. Did you know that?” Spike could only shake his head in response. “It sounds like a master class in business smarts or something. Irma said Harmony conducts it herself. That’s what I’m aiming for Spike, the top.”
Spike’s mouth hung open in disbelief; soon frustration filled it. “What’s with this rah rah Harmony bollocks all of a sudden?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“It’s Harmony, for crying out loud! That’s what I mean. With the nail polish and the sparkly bits and the soddin’ unicorns everywhere you bloody turn. She’s…she’s…”
“I know, isn’t she great?” Buffy nodded her agreement. “She’s not what you expect in a business mogul and that’s what’s so exciting. She keeps them guessing.”
“Ugh!” Spike’s exasperation met Buffy’s calm reply.
“I’ve completely misjudged her, Spike,” Buffy shrugged. “It’s as simple as that. I’m secure enough to admit that I was wrong about her. I only hope I can be half the business woman she is one day.”
“This is total bollocks,” Spike muttered. “I suddenly live in a universe that worships the flotsam that spews from the mouth of Harmony Kendall. Think Buffy, have you been bitten by anything? Eaten a bad piece of shrimp? Inhaled some suspicious cloud from a glowing fissure in the space time continuum?”
“What are you talking about? No. I feel perfectly fine.” Buffy frowned. “I think I’d know if something unusual was happening. I still have my razor sharp slayer skills, you know and years of up close and personal with the mystical mojo. Do you feel okay? You’re not usually this freaked about anything.”
“You think something’s wrong with me?”
“Maybe Wesley should investigate. I hardly think we need to bother Harmony with something like this…but if it’s big, Harmony may need to be informed.”
“Buffy, are you telling me you find nothing wrong with the concept of Harmony being in charge of the evil asylum at Wolfram and Hart?”
Buffy paused while a thread of suspicion frayed in her mind. “Spike, for someone who’s sworn he’s over Harmony, you are talking about her a lot.”
“What?”
“I know low man on the ladder is not as sexy as CEO but you broke up with her, remember? You’re not having second thoughts about us are you?” Worry contaminated Buffy’s thoughts and seeped into her expression. Why did she even ask that question? What if Spike was having second thoughts? There was no way she could compete with the sophistication that was Harmony but she thought that she and Spike had a chance at building something good together.
“Second thoughts? About Harmony?”
“You think she’s prettier than me, don’t you?”
“What?”
“It’s her tiny, perfect ass, isn’t it? Damn her vampire perfection!”
“Buffy, calm yourself. Harmony does not have a perfect ass. Believe me.”
“There!” Buffy pointed a french fry at Spike in accusation. “Now you’re picturing her naked. I know you are!”
“I’m not. I swear.”
“I’ve got a good ass!” Buffy protested. “As good as Harmony’s!” She stuffed her mouth with french fries and chewed at a blistering pace to ward off tears. Anger was preferable to sadness because her eyes didn’t get puffy from rage like they did from crying. The restless chewing stopped as an image invaded Buffy’s mind. Harmony didn’t get puffy eye bags at all. Ever.
“Shit!” she exclaimed. “I knew I should have come back sooner. It’s too late for us, isn’t it?”
“No. Definitely not too late.”
“How can you say that when you obviously want Harmony! How am I supposed to compete with her? She’s Harmony!”
“Buffy! I don’t want Harmony. Jesus, how could any rational person think that? I want you, Buffy. You!”
“I don’t believe you. All you want to talk about is Harmony! Maybe if I was still the only slayer in all the world I’d have a chance, but–“
“Buffy! Listen to me! I don’t want Harmony! I want you. I love you. I dream about you.”
“You dream about me?” Buffy paused in mid sniffle. Dreaming was a hopeful sign. Maybe she was in that noggin of Spike’s after all.
“Really?”
“Uh huh.” Spike nodded.
Buffy took a chance. “Like, sexy, girlfriendy type dreams?”
“Oh, yeah. Very sexy.”
“Aww,” her forehead wrinkled with relief. “That is so sweet. I had a dream about you too.”
“Care to share?”
“Well, we’re at the mall shopping for shoes–and get this–Harmony is the salesperson and she tells me that the sandals I have on make my ankles look thick and then she suggests another pair.” Buffy nodded her head as if she were sharing the wisdom of the ages.
Spike wisely tempered his reaction. “That’s your dream about me? Shoe shopping at the mall?” With Harmony, no less. Welcome to the Twilight Zone.
“Is that too weird? Um, there was another part where we walked to the food court naked and got big gulps.”
*
“Oh, oh…that’s, oh yeah, right there…”
Buffy lay in a state of boneless relaxation on the sofa feeling satisfied that she’d done so well at her first day at Wolfram and Hart. Her feet lay in Spike’s lap and he kneaded her left arch with his muscular thumb.
Spike’s mindset was not so carefree. Wolfram and Hart was a dangerous place and as long as Buffy was there, she was in danger. He tried to think. There had to be something that could snap Buffy out of her present state of mind. Where was the Scooby brain trust when it might be of some use? Wait. Of course. The answer was obvious.
“Have you spoken to Giles yet?” He asked in a gentle, smooth tone that didn’t betray his growing sense of panic.
“Hmm?” Buffy responded, almost asleep.
“Giles? Does he know your big job news?”
Buffy opened her eyes. “I didn’t tell him yet. I just started today, Spike. I haven’t had time.” Buffy yawned and stretched. “Gosh you’re good at this.” Her feet felt human again.
“I have my talents.”
“I’ll say.” She smiled and closed her eyes. “More please.” She wiggled the toes on her right foot to encourage him.
When Spike was sure Buffy was fast asleep he eased off the sofa and walked to her purse. It was a jumble of receipts, old lipstick tubes, stakes, a bulging wallet shaped like a ladybug and a silver cell phone. Spike opened the wallet and searched for a phone number for Giles. There he found a crisp business card with a tiny raised Celtic knot in one corner. It read: Rupert Giles, Council of Watchers, and some phone numbers. Buffy scrawled his cell number on the back.
“Yes!” Spike grabbed the cell phone and walked into the bathroom in order to make the call. If Buffy’s phone wasn’t able to handle an international call he’d have to hoof it to the pay phone on the corner and there was no guarantee that one would work.
Spike opened the cell and activated it. It registered battery power and a connection. So far so good. He dialed the number carefully, cursing the teeny weeny buttons with each press of his cumbersome fingertips. The call went through with no problem. Spike’s luck was holding. It should be morning in England.
“Giles here.” The reception was functional but not impressive.
“Giles!” Spike squeaked. All would be well. “This is Spike.”
“Spike who?” Giles spoke blandly as if he were responding to an ancient knock knock joke.
“Spike…from Sunnydale?” Spike replied. How many Spikes did Giles know?
“I see you don’t have enough work to do, Andrew, that can be remedied, believe me.”
Click.
As Spike scrambled to redial, the tiny phone slipped from his grasp. It clattered on the tile floor with a shocking echo. Spike fell to his knees and scooped it up, fearing its intricate circuitry would be damaged.
“Worse than a bloody sardine, that is.” Spike’s thumb slipped across a button and Buffy’s phone directory suddenly came onscreen. He stopped cursing this tiny piece of technology long enough to scroll down past “Giles work” and “Giles home” to “Giles cell” and pressed the connection again. Tense seconds passed.
“Giles here.”
“Don’t hang up!” Spike hissed. “This really is Spike.”
“Spike?”
“Alive and kicking…well, kicking anyway. Didn’t you get the memo?” Surely Andrew would have penned a memo. “Long story short: saved the world, was a ghost for a bit and now I’m all soulful and solid again.”
If polishing glasses could be heard over a cell phone connection, Spike would have sworn he heard a tell tale squeak or two.
“Yes, Spike. I am aware of your situation. Why on earth would you be calling me?”
“Just listen. Buffy’s here in Los Angeles and she’s in trouble.”
There was the magic word at last.
“What kind of trouble?”
“Big trouble. Wolfram and Hart kind of trouble.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Brace yourself, Rupert, this is going to be a shock–“
“I had a conference call with Harmony just a few hours ago. She didn’t mention anything of the sort.”
The pit of Spike’s stomach crackled uneasily. “What? You…you’ve spoken with…Harmony?”
“Quite regularly, actually. She’s proven a valuable colleague, Spike. I find her insights remarkably fresh.”
The incongruous words buzzed in Spike’s ears. Harmony was a valuable colleague with remarkably fresh insights. He pressed on with a voice full of foreboding. “Rupert, Buffy’s taken a job at Wolfram and Hart. She’s here…at Wolfram and Hart…in the lobby.” Just saying it out loud sent shivers through Spike. He hoped that was enough.
Giles replied in an reasonable tone. “Buffy did mention to me that she was looking for a change and it sounds like she’s found it. I discussed eventually expanding Buffy’s role with Harmony. She brought up the intriguing idea of a liaison posi–“
“Did you not hear me?” Spike interrupted, frustration evident in his delivery. “This is serious. Buffy is literally opening doors for demons…and lawyers!”
“Spike, erm, have you been drinking? You sound a little odd.”
A little odd? The world had turned upside down. Rupert Giles was on good working terms with Harmony Kendall and thought nothing of Buffy brightening the lobby of Wolfram and Hart. Buffy was in the next room blissfully dreaming of climbing the corporate ladder, no doubt in sequined platform shoes and hair extensions.
Armageddon was waiting in the wings in shining breastplate and horns, anxious for her curtain call.
Spike swallowed a dry gulp, pressed the end button and terminated the call. He stared blankly at the silken threads of mold discoloring the tile grout over his bath tub and tried to gain some calm. Giles obviously was not going to be any help at all. Spike sat down on the edge of the tub for a think.
It was every man for himself.