Part 6: Amateur Detective
Skulking around cemeteries for the better part of six years should mean that you don’t get spooked easily. But Buffy was. Spooked that is. It was three in the morning and she was in the Hyperion lobby and it was dark and she was alone and the place was really big and hell, it looked haunted during the DAYTIME so yeah, she was a little spooked.
She knew she should be asleep in the room she was sharing with Dawn, but the whole sleep thing just wasn’t working for her. The baby had been crying in the room down the hall for the past ten minutes and she was in a strange bed and…Okay, a small, very twisted part of me misses Spike.
It was weird, cause it wasn’t like she was horny and she missed sex with Spike (all though she wouldn’t turn it down right now if it was offered). I just miss HIM. Talking to him, knocking him around a little.
It was very disturbing to realize just how large a part of her life Spike had become. How not a day went by without seeing him. Oh lord, I came here to forget about Spike, not wander around thinking about him. Buffy decided to do some subtle snooping, for distraction.
She walked over to where the desks were and saw a picture of her in a silver frame. It was one with Xander and Willow when they were at the Bronze—it looked like senior year of high school. Angel has a picture of me on his desk. That has to mean something right? The thought warmed her for a second, until she realized that she didn’t remember posing for Angel.
In fact the idea of Angel walking around Sunnydale with a camera seemed a little ridiculous. So then… Buffy looked down at the desk the picture rested on. The presence of a bottle of perfume and a computer meant that the picture and the desk weren’t Angel’s, they were Cordelia’s.
Buffy really didn’t want to think about why Cordy had pictures of the Scoobies on her desk. Didn’t she hate all of us?
Even the desk spoke of how much Cordelia had changed. There was a Parents magazine tucked in between Cosmos. There was a schedule for a Mommy and Me swim class lying on the chair. It was very disconcerting, so Buffy walked over to the other desk.
This was Angel’s. It was relatively bare. There was a pad of paper, a few pens, and a book of short stories by Edgar Allen Poe. Ahhh, that’s my stuffy 250-year-old boyfriend. But looking closer, Buffy saw other things.
There was a Sony Discman that had a piece of tape that said GUNN on it. There was a bottle of OPI nail polish in “chick flick cherry” that Buffy prayed was Cordelia’s. It was sitting on top of a post-it from Wes, saying that Angel still owed him for those Laker tickets.
And the calendar on the right hand corner of the desk had “Fred’s B-day” written on it, with a red circle around the date.
It was so strange, seeing that other people existed for Angel now; once she was his entire world. Buffy looked around the empty room, to make sure no one was coming, and then opened the top desk drawer. There wasn’t much in there. There was a musty smelling book an ancient demon rituals. An invoice. Two pacifiers. And a piece of paper, no it was a picture, lying face down. Buffy picked it up and turned it over and stopped breathing.
It was of Angel and Cordelia with Connor. Neither of them had been looking at the camera—they clearly hadn’t known they were having their picture taken. Cordelia was sitting on the couch in what must be her apartment. Her hair was longer and less blond—put up in a messy ponytail—and the red sweatshirt she wore had a stain on the upper right corner.
The baby was asleep in her arms with this peaceful blissed out expression on his face. Angel was crouching on his knees behind the couch. One arm was around Cordy’s shoulder while the other reached toward Connor. Cordelia’s head was arched back and she was shooting a huge smile at Angel. Angel was also smiling, a small secret smile, as he looked down, tilting his head toward her.
Buffy didn’t know what this picture meant. She didn’t like the things that it could mean. She didn’t like that Angel kept the picture in his drawer. Maybe, maybe he doesn’t have that many pictures of Connor. Maybe this is the only picture he has and Cordelia just happens to be in it. Why couldn’t the guy just have taken his son to the portrait studio at Sears, if he was so hard up for pictures?
Buffy acknowledged that reason and rationality were clearing running scarce, then she did something even more irrational. She stuffed the picture into her back pocket. She didn’t know why but she couldn’t stop herself from doing it.
“Buffy.”
It was Angel’s voice. Wasn’t she supposed to be able to sense when vampires were approaching? She quickly turned her head towards the sound of his voice. He was slowly coming out of the shadows with a wiggling Connor in his arms. “What are you doing up so late?” he asked as he walked over to the kitchen.
“Three in the morning really isn’t all that late,” Buffy said as she followed him into the kitchen and watched him take a frozen pacifier out of the fridge.
“Well I don’t know if I agree with you, but Connor certainly does.”
“I should be more tired, I guess. It’s hard to relax and go to sleep if I haven’t patrolled.”
Angel didn’t say anything and for a minute Buffy just watched him with the baby. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.
“It’s weird,” she commented. “I mean, it’s not bad weird, but it is different, to see you with him, like that. Makes me wonder what happened to my brooding tai-chi-doing boyfriend.”
Angel’s hand stilled on Connor’s back when he noted that Buffy had used the word boyfriend and it had a disturbingly “present tense” feel to it. Buffy didn’t notice it, but she did notice how Angel kept looking around the hotel nervously. “Angel, it’s okay, I understand exactly how you feel, because I feel it too,” she said soothingly, hoping to make him less nervous.
Angel merely shot a confused look in her direction so Buffy went on. “Being together again, its bound to be a little strange. All those old feelings coming rushing back again, it’s bound to be a little…disconcerting.”
Angel was definitely disconcerted. What the hell is Buffy talking about? And since when am I still her boyfriend? Angel wasn’t nervous because he was alone with Buffy. He was nervous because if he didn’t head back upstairs soon, Cordy would start to wonder what had happened and then she would come downstairs and…
We have a hard enough time justifying it to ourselves when Cordelia spends the night, I doubt trying to make Buffy understand would make it any easier.
“Buffy, look, I—”. There was a sudden noise and Angel and Buffy both turned to see Cordelia quietly walking down the stairs. She stopped when she caught both pairs of eyes on her.
Cordelia immediately noted the suspicious way Buffy’s eyes roamed over her and inwardly cringed. Why did I get out of bed? Why? She looked at Angel and saw the whole “deer caught in the headlights” thing he had going and this time she gritted her teeth.
So, he must REALLY not want Buffy to know that Cordelia had been upstairs with him. Oh, cause the idea of me and Angel in bed together, that’s what, like too horrific to contemplate? Okay, fine. I’ll rescue him. Don’t want to cause any problems for the star-crossed lovers, now would I?
Cordelia called on the inner soap-opera-star. “Wow, I didn’t think it would be so crowded down here at almost four in the morning. I, uh, fell asleep in Fred’s room. We stayed up late doing that thing where girls just lay there and talk, you know—”
“Girl talk?” Buffy offered.
“Yeah, exactly. So I must have fallen asleep. And then I just woke up cause I was, um, thirsty, so I called out to Dennis to bring me a glass of water and that’s when I realized that I wasn’t at home.” Nice job, Cordy. I threw in a few extra details, did the whole ‘I’m confused cause I just woke up thing.’ Man, I so deserve an Emmy. Or at least a People’s Choice Award.
“So,” she said glaring at Angel, “I’ll just get my purse and be on my way.” No one spoke again until she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Wow Cordy,” Buffy said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this way before. All messy…and tired looking.” Cordelia bit back a retort and walked over to her desk. But Buffy wasn’t going to let this one go. “Seriously Angel, look at her. Does Cordelia remind you at all of the fashionista she was in high school?”
Cordelia waited a split second for Angel to put the baby down and knock Buffy the fuck out, but then she remembered that would only happen in a perfect world. The world she lived in: clearly not perfect, since Angel apparently didn’t feel the need to defend her at all.
Angel noted the way Cordelia had flinched at Buffy’s words. He was angry that his seer was hurting and he was confused as to why Buffy was saying those things. But most of all, he didn’t know what to say. Who to support.
Finally he just quietly said, “She’s nothing like she was then.” Cordelia bit her lip and shook her head slightly. It was nice, but a thinly veiled compliment that Buffy wouldn’t understand at all was not the kind of back up Cordelia had been looking for.
“I know Angel,” Buffy agreed. “I don’t think the old Cordelia even owned a sweatshirt. I guess someone finally found the softer side of Sears herself.”
Cordelia guessed that somewhere, deep down, she probably deserved a comment like that. After all she had never been a saint, even now. But it still hurt. She hated that Buffy made her feel ashamed of who she had been AND who she was now. She hated being put down in front of her best friend and getting no visible reaction.
In that moment, Cordelia hated Buffy and Angel. Just get out of here. No good can come from prolonging this. Just leave.
“Well, as fun as this is, it’s late. I’ll see you three tomorrow.” Cordy shot a final glare at Angel, yanked open the door, and walked out…only to immediately walk back in backwards.
“Are you coming or going Cordelia, make up your mind,” Buffy said, before she saw the reason Cordy had walked back inside. There, in the door of the Hyperion, in the middle of L.A., where Buffy had fled to get away from Spike, was…Spike. She froze.
Angel however, reacted immediately. He grabbed Cordelia, yanked her behind him, thrust her the baby, and put on his game face, all in about three seconds.
Buffy shook off the shock and went to stand in front of Spike. “What the hell are you doing here?” she yelled. Angel turned to look at Buffy. The way she yelled at Spike, that’s not how you yelled at your enemy. That’s how you yell at exasperating, frustrating people that you happen to almost love.
Angel knew, cause that’s how he yelled at Cordy.
“Wait, so you’re the one who leaves town, lies about where you’re going, and I’M the one who is getting screamed at,” Spike said.
“It’s none of your business where I go and who I go to see.”
“Clearly you were concerned about what I’d think, otherwise why’d you go and lie about it,” Spike shot back. “Why did you think you couldn’t tell me that you’d come here, to see him,” he sneered, gesturing to Angel. Angel growled lowly, but didn’t speak.
“I didn’t tell you cause I knew you’d show up here. And I don’t want you here. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“Oh really,” Spike drawled reaching for his cigarettes. “That’s not what you sa—”
“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Cordy said stepping out from behind Angel before he could stop her. “Not to interfere with the whole lovers quarrel your doing but smoking is like such a big no-no here. You know, with the baby and all.” Spike didn’t seem to pick up on the baby reference but he did put the cigarettes away before turning back to Buffy.
“Listen love.”
“Don’t call me that. Why are you here, why did you come here?” Buffy said angrily.
Angel decided the time had come to speak up. He didn’t know what was going on between Buffy and Spike and he didn’t want to. He just wanted Spike out and Cordelia and Connor back upstairs in his bed.
“Spike, I for one don’t care why you are here. I just want you gone.”
“Ahhh, I’m wounded. This is how you are greeting family these days.” Trying to lesson the tension, Spike turned to Cordelia. “Cheerleader. Like the new look. It says ‘I’m casual, yet still cuddly’.” Cordelia smiled before she could stop herself and Angel growled again, this time loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Oh chill, ya giant poof. Didn’t the Scoobs tell you? I’m chipped. Can’t harm the walking Happy Meals. I fight the evil now, you know, all the stuff that goes bump in the night? I’m on your team now. Ask Buffy.”
“I don’t need to ask Buffy anything. I know that I want you out of here and away from my family. Chip or no chip, I don’t trust you.”
For some reason, Buffy was slightly annoyed with Angel’s tone. I mean, I don’t want Spike here either, but I should handle throwing him out. And Angel didn’t have to be so mean. She was also slightly annoyed at the vague flirtation Spike had thrown towards Cordelia.
“Spike, we’ll talk about this when we get back to Sunnydale. You should go home now.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do by coming here Slayer. I know you.”
“No. You don’t. You don’t know me at all.”
“I’m not leaving until we talk about this.”
“I am so not talking to you now Spike.”
“Fine. Than Angel, I’d like a room for the weekend. Smoking of course, preferably a queen sized bed.”
“You’re not staying here,” Angel and Buffy said at the exact same time. The two of them and Spike now stood very close together right in front of the door. All of the sudden, Angel’s head shot up. Cause if he wasn’t mistaken, he smelled something on Buffy and he smelled the same thing on Spike.
Sex. They were having sex. Presumably with each other. Angel tried to process this while Spike and Buffy had a staring contest, until, finally, a voice of reason was heard.
“Oh that’s it. It’s four in the morning. I’m tired. I want to go home. I can’t go home knowing that Connor is going to have to listen to you three fight all night. So here’s what’s going to happen. Spike, you can’t stay here. You tortured Angel the last time you came to town. Your record with us is not good. However, since daylight is fast approaching, I’m going to be a total idiot and let you come stay with me.”
“Spike is not staying with you,” Angel said, putting his hands on Cordelia’s shoulders.
“You are not staying with Cordelia,” Buffy said, grabbing Spike by the collar.
Cordy ignored the large vampire in front of her and quirked her eyebrow at Spike. “Well, it’s up to you.”
Spike detangled Buffy’s fingers from his shirt and nodded. He didn’t know why the chit was being so…nice. Not just the fact that she was being nice to him, but the fact that she was being nice at all. He remembered her being somewhat…less nice. “Thanks for the hospitality cheerleader.”
The fact that Cordelia had invited Spike for a sleepover and the fact that Spike had accepted seemingly shocked Angel and Buffy into a stupor. They stood there silently as Cordy handed Connor to Angel and Spike picked her purse off the floor and carried it for her.
When they reached the door, Spike mumbled “So, the baby. I gather that’s not a late night snack, is it?” Cordy just shook her head tiredly, saying, “I’ll explain later.” And then they were gone.
Angel and Buffy continued to silently stare at the door for several minutes. Finally Angel said, “He better not hurt her.”
Buffy sighed and walked toward the stairs. “He won’t hurt her. He can’t.”
“Buffy, if he does hurt her, I will have to kill him. You know that, right?” Buffy simply nodded and walked upstairs.