Protocol: Part Forty-Two

[thebratqueen]

Previous parts can be found here.

PART FORTY-TWO

As soon as Angel and Wesley left the bedroom, they were assaulted by three voices.

"Why can't I go?"

"Why do I have to go?"

"Why is Angel not wearing a tux? We were told to wear tuxes. Why do I have to spend the entire night in this monkey costume if Angel doesn't?"

Angel turned to Connor, Spike, and Xander in turn. "Because. Because. Because. And, by the way, not like anybody could tell the difference on the monkey thing."

"You are going right back in there, mister," Xander pointed into the bedroom, "and you are putting on uncomfortable, way too starched clothing if I have to manhandle you into it myself. And that was so not a come-on when I was thinking it in my head."

"Come-ons usually involve taking clothes *off*, git," Spike said.

"There, yes," Xander swiveled his hand around to point at Spike, this time jabbing his finger at him in relief. "Not a come-on. But I am not going to be the only guy here wearing a suit that's meant for a very tiny man on top of a big white cake."

"I think you look fine," Wesley said.

"Says the man who's wearing - " Xander frowned. "What are you wearing?"

"Council regulation," Wesley said.

"Which sounds like an army uniform and yet I'm looking at very fine embroidery," Xander said.

"For the record," Angel said, "I *never* doubted the you being gay thing."

Spike leaned forward to reclaim some kind of control on the situation. "For the record, I'm not going to this poncy piece of crap thing."

"You just spill these insults out on some kind of autopilot, don't you?" Wesley observed.

"Let me go," Connor stood up, bouncing on feet that held restless energy. "I can do it."

"No, and no," Angel said. "And let me throw one more in there in case you ask again: no."

"You're treating me like a child!" Connor made a face.

"Don't give me an easy volley about you acting like one," Angel told him. "And *no*."

"I'm old enough," Connor began to tick off his points on his fingertips. "I'm mature enough. I'm a part of this family. Heck, *Wes* understands that I'm actually supposed to be a prince - "

"And *I* understand that you are *my* kid," Angel said. "End of discussion."

"Yeah, 'cause saying that always works," Spike rolled his eyes.

"You want me to start in on who he learned it from?" Angel asked.

"Oh right," Spike replied. "Because stubborn was *never* from your branch of the family tree."

"Why can't I go?" Connor demanded.

"Why do I *have* to go?" Spike asked.

"Why do I - " Xander started, then nodded in Spike's direction. "No, actually, he covered it with the having and going. Don't mind me."

"Would my Lord like a drink?" Wesley asked.

"I'm really starting to love you being able to read my mind like that," Angel said.

Wesley blushed, then ducked his head as he went to pour Angel a scotch.

"Well?" Connor folded his arms.

"Because the Council's there," Angel told him. He turned to Spike and Xander in turn. "Because the Council's there. And you I just enjoy annoying."

"I appreciate the honesty," Xander said.

"You think the Council's up to something?" Spike asked.

"I don't know," Angel accepted his drink from Wes with a smile and a quick thanks. "But we've got this guy who I don't like, his wife who has to do anything he says, plus her *servants*."

Angel's emphasis on the final word was met with three blank stares.

"It's okay if nobody gets why saying that was a proud moment for me," Angel cleared his throat. "Anyway, we know the Council's dying of curiosity about Connor, right Wes?"

"Indeed, my Lord," Wesley confirmed.

"So I want you," Angel looked at Connor, " as far away from these people as we can keep you. And *you*," Angel looked at Spike, "putting your eyes and ears on this just so I don't miss anything. And *you* - "

"You just enjoy annoying," Xander finished.

Angel grinned. "Pretty much. Nice suit."

"I'd say the same thing about you except you're in pretty much what you *always* wear," Xander said.

"I think my Lord's clothes are quite handsome," Wesley said, as he idly petted the kitten who had curled up next to his lap.

"You'd say that if he was wearing a potato sack," Xander replied.

"I'd say that about my Lord," Wesley pointed out, "not necessarily the potato sack."

"Do we have to stay at this waste of time for long?" Spike asked.

"The one here or the one where there's actually a party?" Angel asked.

Spike smirked. "The *other* waste of time."

"Dunno, Wes?"

"At least an hour is traditional," Wesley explained. "Often more. There is dinner, but I've arranged for it to be buffet. You could eat as quickly as you liked."

"Now *I* love you for reading *my* mind," Xander immediately stepped back at Spike's look. "Not like *that*. Idiot."

"Long as we're clear," Spike told him.

"What am I supposed to do?" Connor asked.

"Bible study," Angel told him. "Hell, stay here and play with the cat."

"Because I love you I won't make the obvious joke with the pun on cat," Connor said.

Angel swallowed the last of his drink and gave Connor a grin. "Because I love *you*, I'm going to pretend you don't know that kind of humor."

"That one he did get from me," Spike pushed himself up off of the couch. "Though we're still working on the dirty limericks."

Angel lead the way downstairs. "Have I mentioned lately how glad I am you've taken an interest in my son's education?"

"Don't think so," Spike said.

"Funny, that," Angel replied.

***

True to Wesley's promise, the party was a big enough affair to look like it was something, while being just big enough that Angel could more or less vanish in the crowd. A few people tried to talk to him but Wes, without being asked, automatically ran interference. He then took to hosting his way through the crowd - handshakes, greetings, introductions, overseeing the food and drink - like a duck to water and left Angel in blissful, uninterrupted by outsiders, peace.

Angel took a seat in an out of the way spot and watched Wes do his thing. "You know, I don't think he's delighted enough."

Spike, standing next to him, gave a sigh. "Okay, see, you get these thoughts in your head - which, I'll grant you, is a big day for you - but then you think to yourself - "

"Spike - "

"Right," Spike tapped his nose with his index finger. "You think 'Gosh, I wonder if old Spike would like to hear my shiny new thought?'"

"I don't say gosh," Angel said.

"And I am here to tell you, mate," Spike continued, ignoring him, "that so far your answers there could not be more wrong."

"This is important to me," Angel said.

"Don't make it interesting," but Spike stayed where he was, and nibbled out of a bowl of popcorn.

"I like him," Angel said - which earned him a snort from Spike. "Shut up, I do, okay? I like him, and I want him to be happy."

"If you like him so much why don't you marry him?" Spike pretended to think about it. "Oh, wait - "

"He's not *delighted* enough," Angel said, wanting to get his point across before he lost his train of thought. "I guess he's happy enough doing his thing, but he's not delighted."

"You keep saying that like it's gonna mean something," Spike threw a piece of popcorn into the air. It narrowly missed his mouth.

"He's missing - I dunno," Angel's shoulders slumped. "He's missing the *happy* of happy. Like he's okay sometimes, and sometimes he even smiles, but there's a kind of happy and a kind of smile he doesn't have that often. A kind where he just lights up from inside, and his cheeks get dimples, and he looks like he believes good things are possible."

"Yeah," Spike drawled, giving him a long stare, "definitely do not share these thoughts with me again."

"And you say I don't open myself up to you," Angel said.

"Not once did I ever," Spike mimed shutting cabinet doors. "*Closed*, *closed*. Use your - whaddatheycallit? - inside voice."

"Okay, but this is the last time I'm genuinely asking for your opinion," Angel warned.

"In that case tell the boy you love him and spare us all the torture," Spike replied. "Easy enough."

Angel watched Wes talking with Randy and Zhanna. "Not exactly."

***

"A pleasure to see you, your Highness."

Wesley kept a polite smile on his face as Lord Randolph inserted himself into Wesley's field of vision. "Quite kind of you to say, sir."

"The event this evening is particularly genteel and auspicious," Randolph made a grand gesture to take in the whole of the party, nearly mussing Zhanna's hair in the process, but she managed to quickly duck. "My compliments to your husband. And, I dare assume, to you for representing him with all of your abilities."

"I am pleased as always to serve my Lord to the best of my abilities," Wesley replied.

"Don't we all?" Randolph said, as though Wesley were agreeing with him. "It is in the spirit of such good will and forward-thinking that I come to you tonight. As you know, my wife speaks no English - "

"I know you have ordered her to speak no English," Wesley couldn't resist replying.

There was a flicker in Randolph's eyes, but he kept going. "So I bring her here to you, so that you both may speak with one another, and you for her, for the duration of this evening."

"You wish me to - " Wesley tried to think of something he could do to stall for time. There were implications to Randolph's offer that Wesley didn't think he cared for, but unfortunately duty to appear gracious won out over desire to ferret out hidden problems - which Randolph probably knew. "I... would be delighted to act as translator, if such a thing would be of service to my husband."

"How could acts of diplomacy be anything but?" Randolph asked. He gave Zhanna a gentle push forward then, before Wesley could stop him, took Wesley by the shirt sleeve and drew him closer to her. "There. You are brought together by the hands of Fate and greater purpose. What joy this rains down upon us all. Now excuse me while I greet our host for this evening."

Wesley longed to follow after Randolph and help Angel with whatever was going on. But Randolph vanished into the crowd too quickly for Wesley to follow without drawing attention to himself, and curiosity about what was going on got the better of him.

"Do you have any idea what this is about?" Wesley asked Zhanna, politely switching to Russian.

Zhanna cast a furtive look around them.

"It's all right," Wesley assured her, "no one can understand what we're saying."

Zhanna clasped Wesley's hand in a cold and trembling grip. "I need to speak with you about potions."

Wesley had anticipated this conversation. "I will be more than happy to help you, of course, but I should warn you that my skills in that area are not as strong as Andrew's. I don't know that I could create what you need."

"You were one of the best students," Zhanna said, refusing to be swayed. "I know you can create something to - to ease the way for me and my husband."

Wesley looked back towards Randolph. "I'm not sure I can make something that powerful."

***

The second Spike left Angel alone to get a drink, Randy appeared as though summoned by a spell.

"Your grace, what a fine and magical evening we are presented with tonight," Randy capped this declaration off with something that was probably meant to be a bow.

Angel sighed. Angel knew of so many things that made being at a formal party something which made him want to stake himself. Having to deal with Randy upped the list by at least five items. He tried to ease the annoyance by keeping his eye on Wes and Zhanna in the crowd. "Certainly was."

Randy misconstrued Angel's look as an invitation to join him in the staring. "So pretty, are they not, my liege?" Randy put his hand on Angel's arm, increasing the list by a factor of ten. "Look at how they move amongst us. Such grace. Such beauty. One would dare to put word to tongue that might call they themselves angels."

"Hand," Angel said, feeling one syllable was about all he wanted to commit to dealing with this.

To his credit, Randy snatched his hand away. An elaborate pantomime ensued that involved, as far as Angel could tell, an apology, an attempt to pretend he hadn't meant to touch Angel in the first place, and then a grand sweeping gesture in the direction of Wesley and Zhanna who were together on the far side of the banquet hall.

"My humblest and most heart-yearning request for forgiveness, your grace," Randy said. "You must pardon my memory for failing to rise to the occasion of proper behavior on this momentous night. But the rapturous sight of those to whom we have earned the deepest vows has moved even I to dare tread on lands my feet are not often blessed to walk on."

Angel thought long and hard about killing Spike for not returning fast enough with his drink. "Okay."

"You must agree that they are without comparison," Randy framed Wesley and Zhanna by making a square with his thumbs and index fingers. "Look at how they glitter, like two jewels amongst the offal of the lesser beings around them."

"Like my family?" Angel asked.

"Diamonds from charcoal, your excellence," Randy said, transitioning smoothly. "Who too gleam at us from afar and inspire the rest of us into greatness."

"If you say so," Angel motioned at one of the waiters. Better to get blood from a cup than a neck. Not that he'd stoop low enough to drink from someone that Angel was sure would leave a bitter, if not greasy aftertaste.

"With such inspiration do we find ourselves dreaming," Randy continued. "Thinking of what we might have and of possibilities of what might be. Daring to hope to take pleasure, however momentary, from that which we do not have."

Angel made a non-committal grunt. Across the room he could see Wes bending his head to say something to Zhanna. Unfortunately his back was to Angel, so Angel couldn't even try to lip-read.

"Your majestic sire could do such a thing, if it was of interest to him," Randy said.

"Hum?" Angel squinted, wondering if he saw Zhanna talking to Wes in return.

"I could arrange for it tonight," Randy touched his arm again. "For every night of my stay, if you wished it."

"Hand," Angel reminded him. Then he realized there was an unspoken question. "Wait - what?"

Randy nodded in the direction of his wife. "Arrangements could be made, if that is what you desired."

"For your sake," Angel said, "I hope I am *really* misunderstanding you."

***

"So glad I came, so glad I fell for the vampire with enough family baggage for his own cruise to Italy," Xander muttered as he worked his way through the crowd. "Not that I'm ungrateful for him babysitting Angel while we're stuck in this festival of manners and posture but... but I'm talking to myself. That can't be good."

Xander looked around. Willow and Faith had both said they would come, and he was pretty sure Gunn had to be there on general principle. But none of them were in eyesight, nor was anybody that Xander felt comfortable enough around to want to make small talk with.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Wesley. He took a few moments to ask himself if uncomfortable small talk with *him* was the lesser of two evils, then decided what the Hell. If nothing else, maybe *he* knew where Willow and the others were. Or at least the dessert table.

"Hey Wes, hey - " Xander made a helpless gesture in Zhanna's direction " - you."

Wes looked as though Xander had interrupted something but was too polite to say what. "Xander, this is Zhanna, Lord Randolph's spouse."

Xander put his hand out for a shake. "Nice to meet you."

Zhanna shrunk back, murmuring something that sounded like a sneeze.

"Zhanna says it's a pleasure to meet you as well," Wesley translated.

"She doesn't speak English?" Xander asked.

"Zhanna understands English perfectly," Wesley said, with a pointed quirk of his eyebrow.

Xander nodded. If not for Zhanna looking at him he would have pretended to zip his mouth shut to show that he got it: no spilling state secrets in front of the guest. Not that Xander knew any.

"We were just speaking of Zhanna's husband," Wesley said.

"Oh," Xander looked over to the guy who was now keeping Angel company. Angel, for his part, looked thrilled. "Um... nice guy? I guess?"

Again Zhanna made with the murmuring. This time she looked as though she was happily giving a speech.

"Zhanna thanks you for saying so. She says that her Lord is very nice, and kind to her," Wesley translated.

More murmuring.

"Handsome, intelligent, and brave beyond compare."

Still more murmuring.

"A man to whom it is an honor to be married," Wes said, and to his credit even he looked like he was barely holding in an expression of being tired and bored with it all, "and with whom she finds deepest pleasure, particularly in regards to - "

Wes suddenly cut off. He frowned at Zhanna. He said something in rapid-fire sneeze speak that Xander couldn't actually translate, but he had a gut instinct was the sneezy Spouse version of "Are you shitting me?"

Zhanna shook her head. She smiled a big white-toothed smile at Wesley, and whatever she was saying was probably something like "No, really. Sneeze sneeze sneeze is actually true."

Now Wes looked concerned. He spoke again, sneezing slower and politer this time. Xander recognized the tone for, "I think you're nuts, but just to be on the safe side when you said sneeze sneeze sneeze was true what you really meant was that today is opposite day, *right*?"

Zhanna patted Wesley's hand. Still with the smiling, she told him, Xander guessed, that sneeze sneeze sneeze was absolutely, one-hundred percent true, and for her part she couldn't be happier about it.

"Zhanna, I've *seen* him!"

The sudden use of English startled all of them. Wes looked horrified at himself. Then he looked like a guy who really wanted to be elsewhere as fast as possible, but was trapped for whatever reason.

Xander didn't know what in the Hell was going on with Zhanna but he felt he could guess at what might cause Wes to be stuck. Having gone through plenty of times when he had the same bone-deep desire to vanish, he figured he could at least do a guy a favor and provide an exit door. "Hey, didn't Angel say he wanted you to check in with him on a regular basis?"

The look of gratitude in Wes's eyes made Xander think that if Wes wasn't so stuffy and British, manly hugs with heavy backslaps would be involved. "Yes, you're right. Thank you for reminding me. Excuse me, I need to attend to my Lord."

Wes started to leave. Then, as though thinking of something, he threw back, "Oh and Xander, Willow's over there."

Xander shot Wes a thankful grin, gave Zhanna a quick goodbye, and resolved to at some point find out what on earth had just happened.