Pet, Part Twenty-one

[thebratqueen]

PART TWENTY-ONE

"I have a dream," Angel announced. He took his seat at the head of the conference table. "My dream is that this meeting lasts five minutes. Any chance of that happening?"

"Slim to none," Wesley told him. He took a chair to Angel's right and began to sort through his notes. "There's a great deal of ground to cover. Spike, if you could get the door?"

Spike closed the doors which lead to the rest of Angel's office, then took a seat in one of the side-chairs by the wall. "I'm with Angel. You know what they say about faster being better."

"I thought it was *wider* is better?" Fred asked. She pushed buttons on a palm-sized device in her hands. "Or am I thinking of something else? The room's clean, by the way. No bugs."

"The wider thing is from a car commercial," Gunn told her, sitting down on the chair to her left.

"Now with cars faster is *always* better," Angel said.

"Except when it's older," Gunn said. "As in classic."

"Or bigger," Lorne said. He poured himself a glass of ice water. "As in stretch limo. These hands were not made to handle gear shifts."

"Shut up, Spike," Angel said, before Spike could even offer a comment.

"Jeeps are fun," Fred offered. "Especially if you're off-roading. I like the bouncing. Which… sounds like something I probably shouldn't have mentioned in the office, now that I think about it."

"You'll bounce right onto your head," Angel told her. "Those things roll over as soon as you breathe on them. Now the *Ferrari* - "

"Oo, I like those," Harmony said, perking up from her seat in the corner. "You know back in high school I dated this one guy with a bright red Ferrari and - okay, actually it was his dad's car. And actually we didn't *date* so much as - "

"Harmony?" Wesley said, trying to somehow thwart the conversation before it became any lower. "Perhaps that's information best left in the same place as Fred and her bouncing?"

Harmony gave a look of distaste. "We didn't bounce in his *car*. God! His dad owned a - "

"Harm," Angel interrupted her. "Let's not share."

"Oh sure," Harmony slumped back into her chair. "I get to sit at my desk and deal with all the TMI with you and Wesley but when *I* want to open up and be giving with my feelings it's all 'shut up Harmony'."

"Shut *up*, Harmony," Spike obliged.

"What's TMI?" Angel asked, appealing to anyone in the room.

"You don't want to know," Wesley told him.

Angel shot Harmony a warning look. "Harm - "

"I didn't say anything!" Harmony protested. She pointed at Angel with the fuzzy-tipped end of her pencil. "You know, if I *was * going to say something I would probably say that I know all about you know who doing you know what with you know who and you know… you. But I don't now do I? And by the way, Spike: ew!"

"Do I even want to know what she's talking about?" Gunn asked.

"No," Angel, Wes, Spike, and Lorne chorused at once.

Wesley pressed a hand to his eyes. "Harmony, please."

"I just wanted to be respected for what I do," Harmony said. Pink tendrils waved in the air as she pointed her pencil at each of them. "I get the blood, answer the phone, deal with Angel being all stuck up and moody - "

"I'm still in the room, Harm," Angel reminded her.

" - schedule these random meetings that get thrown at me where I have to look up on my own who can come in during what astrological cycle or phase of the moon," Harmony continued, "and anticipate *all* the snacks they're going to need even if they want something really gross like worms or toasted soy nuts - "

"You did a really great job with this muffin platter," Fred said. Reminded, she took a blueberry one off the top.

"*And* I have to deal with all this information that I'm not allowed to tell anybody and I *don't*," Harmony added, turning back to Angel again, "and I want some respect for it!"

"Respect," Angel said.

"That's right," Harmony said. She folded her arms for emphasis.

Angel turned his chair around to face her. "Humor me here. How exactly would I *show* this respect?"

Harmony pressed a hand to her chest. "By *including* me. By not shutting me out. By letting me in on all the stuff you do when you get together."

Wesley rubbed his temples. "Such as, to pick an example, inviting you to join us in a secret meeting whereupon we attempt to decide how to overthrow the current status of Wolfram & Hart by putting Angel into a position of power that we hope won't result in the Senior Partners attempting to kill us all before we can blink?"

"*Exactly*," Harmony said.

There was a long moment of silence.

"Oh," Harmony said, realization dawning. She smiled. "Okay then. Though you know it wouldn't hurt to invite me to the movies once in a while either."

"We'll try to get better about that," Fred promised.

"I've got us all spots at the next premiere starring one Johnny Depp," Lorne offered.

"I'm not doing chick flicks," Gunn warned.

Fred gave him a look. "What's wrong with chick flicks?"

"I have a dream," Angel said, speaking over them. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

"Think the five minute ship has sailed," Spike told him.

"I'm past that one," Angel said. "Now I'm onto wondering why it would be a bad thing for the Senior Partners to kill me. 'cause I'm thinking death? Would be pretty quiet."

"Unless you went to Hell," Wesley pointed out. "Then it's entirely possible you'll be stuck in meetings for all eternity."

"Which would be different from right now how, exactly?"

"One assumes that given eternity you'll eventually touch on the *meeting* portion of each meeting at some point," Wesley said.

"Speaking of which," Gunn said.

"Thank *God*," Angel muttered.

Gunn held up the memo Wesley had sent to them all earlier. "The Hell?"

Wesley had been prepared for protest. "I realize this suggestion is a bit not the norm. However, I feel that *treating* Angel as though he is in a position of great power will actually *create* a situation where he is in a position of great power. Once having done that, he stands to hold a great deal of influence on the local demonic and otherwise evil population."

"I get that," Gunn said. "But Wes - "

"I know that in the old days we simply shot first and asked questions later," Wesley said, "but I don't think that's an option for the long term. There's too many of them and too few of us. Any full-scale wars we attempt to make will be short-lived and ultimately take us out of the running. The impact we make by taking out one or two creatures of power will be nothing once others come to take their place. But to *change* them, to *influence* them - "

"I *get* that," Gunn said. "I'm just saying - "

"Think of the resources," Wesley insisted. "If we take the time, energy, and material that they are currently devoting to harmful tasks then we could be causing phenomenal change. What we are attempting to do here in the office could spread to Los Angeles, California, North America - "

"Wes!" Gunn said, interrupting him. "I *get* it. I'm on board already."

Wesley frowned. "Then why -"

"Paper trail," Gunn said, holding up the memo. "Speaking as the legal department? *Bad* idea."

"Oh," Wesley said. He wondered if he looked as foolish as he felt.

"Let's focus on going forward," Angel said, steepling his hands together on the table. "And I just used 'going forward' in a sentence. Stake me now."

"Well, going - " Fred started, then corrected herself, "in the future if we go ahead with this I think it'll work best if all of us contribute based on our expertise."

"I didn't want to deny your expertise," Wesley said. "In fact I'd like to rely upon it. But this is highly dangerous. Moreso than what we've done before."

"What we've done before is a fat lotta nothing," Gunn said. "And it's not like the SP were going to put out the red carpet for us if we tried to retire. So what's left besides upping the stakes? No pun intended."

"These are my stakes to up," Angel said. "You guys don't have to be a part of it."

"Have to isn't the issue," Lorne said.

"Angel, we *want* to," Fred told him. "We took this deal because we wanted to try to do good, right? Why would any of us stop now?"

"Because going bad's a Hell of a lot easier," Spike pointed out, his gaze sharp for all that it was halfway hidden underneath his eyelashes. "Get to keep all the comforts of evil and none of that pesky effort to be nice."

"I'm not in it for comfort," Gunn said.

"Then there's always fear," Spike replied. "Senior Partner's probably look right kind on anyone who turned in a traitor. Maybe do 'em the courtesy of killing 'em first and quickest. Anyone here think they could stand up to an offer like that?"

"I have done this my whole life," Gunn said. "I lost *family* to this. If you think I'm gonna suck up to the Senior Partners over trying to right some wrong - "

"Didn't say it'd be you," Spike reminded him.

"What Spike is trying to point out," Wesley said, "is that right now is a moment where there must be a tremendous amount of trust. We're going to have to rely upon each other more than we ever have before. Do we think we're up to this task?"

"Of course we are," Fred said, then looked around at everyone. "Aren't we?"

Wesley glanced at Angel, and then Gunn. "I believe there are issues. But for a higher cause I also believe we can overcome them."

Gunn looked back. "I'm game if you are."

"We *all* are," Angel corrected.

"Well then," Wesley said, "let's get to work."

"Expertise," Angel said. "Hit me."

Fred handed out reports. "Weapons. If we're going to act like Angel's a super power then it's going to be easier to do if we've got something to back it up."

Wesley scanned the folder. "How soon can these prototypes be ready?"

"How soon can you increase my budget?" Fred asked.

"Done," Angel said. "The SP won't care about us having more ways to kill people. Hell, they might even give us a bonus. Draw up a list of what you need, put it on my desk by the end of the day, I'll sign off on it. What's next?"

"Power networking," Gunn said.

"I liked Wes's thing of me telling people to go fuck themselves," Angel said. "Um - Sorry, Fred."

"Yeah, my virgin ears," Fred said, rolling her eyes.

"Not saying you can't keep doing it," Gunn said. He handed out his own set of folders. "Just saying let's pick the right people. This is a list of all the big deals my people say are going down this month. Little finesse and we can put you in the middle of the heavy stuff and make people wish you'd been involved in the rest."

"Let's come back to this," Wesley said. "I like your idea but let's make sure we're planning enough moves ahead. I don't think it's especially paranoid for us to be looking at this in terms of years, just to make sure we don't miss important details ."

"Might want to cross reference with your department too, Wes," Angel said. "These are the money deals. Let's get the magic on top of it."

Wesley checked his schedule. "Can the three of us meet on this first thing tomorrow morning?"

"Consider it done," Gunn said.

"Excellent," Angel said. "What's next?"

"Clothes," Lorne said.

Angel gave him a look. "I know how to dress myself."

"Never said you didn't, pumpkin," Lorne told him. He hefted a huge binder and then shoved it down the table. "But wearing this year's styles is *so* last year. You're living in the heart of Hollywood. If you want people to notice you we're talking next season, we're talking couture, we're talking - "

"Wolfram & Hart owns the soul of Armani?" Angel asked, looking up from the binder.

"It doesn't go with your shoulders," Lorne told him. He made a turning motion. "Flip to the pink tab over there. I'm picturing you in more Lang and Versace."

"Wes looks good in Armani," Angel pointed out.

"Angel, I don't need - " Wesley began to protest, then Angel caught his eye. "I mean - Yes, Angel."

"We *all* need to look good," Lorne said, and Wesley was tempted to kiss him in gratitude for smoothing the moment over. "If we're representing Angel the Big Cheese then it might be a good idea to dispense with casual Friday if you catch my drift."

"Can we expense this out?" Gunn asked.

"You kidding?" Lorne said. "We can get half this stuff for *free* if we play our cards right. Just leave the details to me."

"Okay, *that* is coming home with me," Angel said, pointing to a picture in the binder. He began to take notes. "And that. Also that."

"Don't forget the matching shirts," Lorne told him.

"Think I can get this coat in a dark brown?" Angel asked.

"Lorne raises an important issue," Wesley said, speaking loud enough to draw Angel away from his shopping list. "Appearance is everything. If we want the world to believe that Angel is important enough to be followed without question, then we're going to need to act like it ourselves. Which means that publicly we must at all times act as though he is the only one in charge."

"I give an order, you guys don't get to say no," Angel said.

Wesley cleared his throat. "Yes, precisely. But in public. In private it is as it ever was. We are a team."

Angel gave him a genuinely curious look. "You think you're up for that, Wes?"

"I believe can handle it," Wesley said.

"Long as I still get my veto power, I'm good," Gunn said.

Angel turned back to the others. "That's fine. I'm not looking to replace you guys. I want whatever's going to make this work. Something tells me this is going to fall apart real fast if none of you grab my ear and tell me when I'm screwing it up."

"It's also going to fall apart if at any time anyone suspects that this is an illusion," Wesley said. "Until the time comes when this actually works and Angel *does* wield the influence that we are trying to give him we must make sure that this is a flawless attempt."

"We'll have to get everyone else here to start acting like it too," Fred said.

"New company policy," Gunn said. "Dress code, etiquette - I can draw up the memo."

"Some won't like it," Wesley reminded him.

"So we bring them in or we throw them out," Gunn replied. "We're still thinning the herd anyway. Extra firings don't change my job any."

"I'm also going to work the magic angle," Wesley said. "Increase our holdings of spells and rituals, get my hands on some of the more powerful artifacts, and do what I can to try to supplement all of this with as many spells of protection and concealment that we can manage."

"Little glamour wouldn't hurt either," Lorne pointed out.

"But I don't like flashy stuff," Angel complained, his eyes back in the binder again.

Lorne made a face at him. "*Magic* glamour, oh wise one. There's more than a few clubs in this town that got popular because the building was spelled to make people think they wanted to be in it. Couldn't hurt to do something like that here."

Fred wrinkled her nose. "Do we really want to use magic on people's minds like that?"

"It's not their minds," Wesley said. "Rather it's more like how architecture can influence a mood."

"Yeah," Gunn said. "Like how the judge's bench is always way higher than you."

"Precisely," Wesley said. He made notes on his pad. "I know of a few low-level spells which should work to supplement the current climate of this building. It should be enough."

"So that's magic," Angel said, pointing at each of them in turn, "weapons, business, appearance - did we leave anything out?"

"Minions."

They all turned to look at Harmony.

"Pardon?" Wesley asked.

She gave a scolding look. "Hello? Everybody knows that powerful vampires have their own minions. They also smoke but I think that's just an evil thing."

"I don't need minions," Angel said.

"No," Spike said, "Harm's right… and I'm taking a moment to swallow that one, believe me. But you lot covered everything he needs to impress humans. You haven't touched the demons yet."

Wesley pondered this. "You make a good point."

"It was my idea," Harmony reminded him.

"You *both* make a good point," Wesley amended. "Demonic culture has its own expectations. If Angel were powerful enough to inspire others then he would have vampires following him as well as humans."

"I have Spike!" Angel said. "I have Harmony!"

"I am your *executive assistant*," Harmony told him. "Unless being a minion pays better."

"It pays nothing because I'm not having any," Angel said.

"You had minions when you were Angelus," Wesley pointed out.

"Because *they* followed *me*," Angel said. "I showed up in a bar and suddenly these losers are hanging around and asking for my autograph and offering to get me stuff and I am *not* proving your point for you with this so shut up."

Lorne scratched his chin. "Couldn't hurt to have an entourage. But not too much. Too many people and we're in a bad rap star who needs to prove his masculinity kind of place. Definitely the wrong message."

"More than entourage," Spike said. "Defense. Everybody and their grandsire's going to be gunning for Angel if he starts swaning about like lord of the manor. Get a few minions into the mix and hopefully they get staked first."

"Okay," Angel said, "Now I'm using my CEO voice. I don't *like* minions, I don't *want* minions, I'm not *having* minions. End of discussion."

"Angel?" Wesley said.

"Yeah?"

"This is a business situation," Wesley reminded him. "So kindly take your head out of your arse and listen to everyone's suggestions."

"We're on vampires," Angel said, "which is a topic I like to think I know a little something about. Minions are *stupid*, they're *annoying*, they're *always* underfoot - "

"That's the *point*, Da," Spike said. He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You think the *smart* ones are going to walk around with the big ol' bull's-eyes painted on their backs?"

"If they're part of defense don't we want them to at least be a *little* smart?" Fred asked. "I'd kind of like Angel to be protected by people who know how to do it."

"*Thank* you," Angel said.

"So *get* him people or demons that know what they're doing," Spike said. "But don't put them - "

"Where anyone can see them," Wesley finished, realizing Spike's idea as he spoke it. "That's it, isn't it? We hide the real protection and use the minions as decoys."

"Hole in one, pet," Spike said.

"As ideas go, it's not dumb," Gunn said.

"I *really* don't want minions," Angel said, rubbing his face tiredly. "Isn't the soul enough for me to deal with? No - wait. I *can't* have minions. You can't expect me to turn people just so I've got some bodyguards."

"Who said anything about turning?" Harmony asked. "There's plenty of vampires out there already. Hire them."

"I'm taking the perfume back," Angel told her.

"He'll do no such thing," Wesley said.

"It won't work," Angel said. "Minions have to be loyal. Random vampires off of the street aren't going to be loyal to a vampire who's got a soul."

Spike shrugged. "Lie to 'em. Not like we'd be hiring anybody smart enough to tell the difference."

"Do we want to spread the rumor that Angelus is back?" Gunn asked.

"We've already decided that won't work," Wesley said.

"Nobody needs to spread anything," Spike said. "Look, I've had minions. Angel's right, they haven't a braincell between them. If they did they'd be leading in their own right - or recognizing that the smartest thing a vamp can do is take care of his own self and sod the rest. But some vamps like following, same as humans. Some vamps are dumb as bricks, same as Angel - "

"You think you're funny, but you're not," Angel said.

Spike ignored him. "The trick is finding the ones that are follower enough and dumb enough to think it's a real treat to take the job of being your personal stake cushion. Once you get those you can tell 'em any old rubbish and they'll believe it."

"So we tell them Angelus is back because they're more likely to follow him than Angel," Wesley said, "and then - what? Ask them to keep it a secret?"

"Missing the point, pet," Spike said. "Anyone smart enough to know there's a difference between Angelus and Angel is too bright for the job. What we need are the ones whose eyes light up when we give them a shiny tin star and say they've been deputized. Let their imagination take care of the rest."

Wesley mulled it over. "I like it."

"I don't," Angel said.

"You're outvoted," Wesley told him. "Fred? When submitting your budget later be sure to include enough for weapons for Angel's personal protection. Minions and hidden bodyguards both."

"No problem," Fred replied, scribbling it into her PDA.

"Gunn," Wesley said, "We'll meet tomorrow about that intelligence. Lorne? Spend more time with Angel to get his appearance ready. Ideally I'd like for him to be suitable to appear in public by the end of the week."

"Can do," Lorne promised.

"Harmony, contact HR," Wesley said. "Get them to send you a list of likely candidates for Angel's minions. I'd like for you to have a hand in the selection. Try to find vampires like yourself, who are open to the idea of operating under new rules."

Harmony saluted with her pencil. "You bet."

"See if you can narrow it down to a list of perhaps thirty to fifty," Wesley said. "Then I'd like our head of defense to make the final cut."

Harmony nodded, writing that down. "You got it."

"Wait," Angel said. "Since when do we have a head of defense?"

"Since now," Wesley said. He folded up his notes about Angel's protection and threw them over to Spike. "Congratulations, you've been promoted."

Spike looked at him dubiously. "You're off your rocker, pet."

"I'm no such thing," Wesley said. "Your argument has made me realize that as of right now there is no one person amongst our group who is in charge of security. Angel's safety is part and parcel of that area. We need a head of security we can trust, you are eminently qualified for the job, ergo promotion. You can start by helping Harmony."

"But - " Spike looked at Wesley, then shot a significant look at Angel. "Isn't that going to get in the way of other things I need to do?"

"You do other things?" Gunn asked.

"We'll figure out something," Angel said. He held up a finger to forestall protest. "And before you say *one* word remember who here was arguing for the minion thing."

"Me and my bloody mouth," Spike said.

"I think that's all for now," Wesley said. "Let's keep communicating during the day."

"Without paper trails," Gunn reminded him.

"Without paper trails of anything incriminating," Wesley agreed. "Lorne, you're with Angel. Everyone else, you know what to do."

"It's nice that we're all doing something," Fred told him. She gave him a smile. "You know, as a team."

Wesley smiled back. "Indeed."

Angel cleared his throat. "Wes? Can I speak to you for a sec?"

Wesley hesitated, stepping aside so the others could get past him as they left. "Personal or professional?"

"Bit of both," Angel said.

"May I have a moment to speak with Spike?" Wesley asked.

Angel held out his arm for Lorne to take measurements. "Sure."

"Something on your mind, pet?" Spike asked.

"In here," Wesley said, motioning towards Angel's office.

Spike followed. "Should *I* be asking personal or not?"

"Mostly professional," Wesley said. He perched on the edge of Angel's desk and lowered his voice. "Spike, I need you to take on another job."

"Haven't destroyed my free time enough already?" Spike teased. When he saw the look on Wesley's face he sobered. "Okay, pet. What do you need?"

"Spike, you know my feelings about Angel," Wesley said, "but I like to think my… emotions are not blind. I know he is a creature of weaknesses."

Spike's eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah. Like what?"

"Like vanity," Wesley said. "This is all an act but given how all-encompassing it is it's entirely possible that one day he might start believing in it."

"Isn't that what you're aiming for?" Spike asked. "People believing it?"

"Not *him*," Wesley said. "Not to the point where he honestly thinks he's too good to open a door for himself or ride in a car that costs less than a hundred thousand dollars. He can be strong and confident in himself, yes, but not arrogant."

"No argument there," Spike said. "Where do I come in?"

Wesley smiled. "Somehow when I asked myself who among us was best suited for the job of keeping Angel humble, I couldn't imagine anyone besides you for the task."

Spike chuckled. "Need me to take the piss out of him, pet?"

"Please," Wesley said.

"No fear," Spike said. "Been doing it all my life. Wasn't planning on stopping."

"Excellent," Wesley said. He stood up again and placed a discreet kiss on Spike's cheek. "Thank you."

Spike caught his eye. "You said it was only mostly professional?"

"Ah yes," Wesley said. He leaned in to whisper directly into Spike's ear. "I also wanted to mention that every time I swallow I can feel you in the back of my throat."

Spike closed his eyes, taking in a breath he didn't need. "Is that so?"

Wesley stepped away, heading back into the conference room. "It is. It's a rather pleasant sensation, I might add."

"Have to do a repeat then," Spike said.

"I would hope so," Wesley replied. He gave Spike a parting smile then returned his attention to Angel. "You needed to see me?"

"Yeah," Angel said. He reached out and pulled Wesley close, kissing him before Wesley could even offer a protest.

Wesley froze. For a moment his mind was stuck on the fact that Lorne was right there, and even though he knew his relationship with Angel was no longer a secret to kiss - no, to *be* kissed like this in front of the demon was another thing entirely.

Then Wesley remembered: public demonstrations.

He relaxed, and let Angel lead the touch.

"I'm proud of you," Angel said, when he finally stepped back. He ran his thumb along Wesley's lower lip. "For what you did here today."

Wesley tried to take that in. "Professionally or personally?"

Angel smiled. "Both."

Wesley glanced at Lorne, who was kindly trying to give them some semblance of privacy by fussing over fabric samples. Even so, Wesley wanted to rise up to Angel's expectations. Trying not to care if the demon heard, Wesley said, "I'm happy to - " and then flushed, too self-conscious to continue. He lamely amended it with " - have done a good job."

Angel kissed him again. "It's okay, Wes."

Wesley shook his head. "I could have done better."

Angel met his eyes again. "Not for you to decide."

With that, a tension that had been with him since Gunn's earlier correction finally faded. Wesley pressed into Angel's touch. "Yes, Angel."

"Good boy," Angel said, giving Wesley's heart another jolt for using a phrase like that in public. "Now go on. Apparently we all have things to do."

"Personal time later?" Wesley asked.

Angel grinned. "What do you think you'll be doing for lunch?"

"I'll look forward to it," Wesley said, then forced himself to go back to work.