A/N: Just to clarify, the exerpt from Angel last chapter was taking place smack-dab in the middle of the episode Sleep Tight in the third season; this one takes place after Double or Nothing. Just ignore the fact that there's supposedly time passing in between, and it'll all work out. :)
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Cordy walked down the stairs with a self-satisfied smile on her face. “Any luck?” Fred asked her.
She nodded. “I think so. He’s putting the crib away, anyway… whether or not that means he’ll come down and be around people is yet to be determined.”
Fred squealed and slapped a hand to her mouth. “People!”
Gunn swore under his breath in response to Fred’s outburst. “We forgot to tell him about Buffy.”
Cordelia blinked. “Okay, what was the connection there?”
The Grooselug brought his head up slowly and frowned at the air as Fred explained. “Buffy called a while ago, before you came back. Angel was out, and… I guess we both just completely forgot.”
“What did she say?” asked a quiet voice from the second floor. Angel stood, looking about as broody as ever, but not quite as upset as he had only a few hours ago.
Fred shook her head sadly. “Not much. She didn’t want to say. I’m really sorry, Angel…”
“Not your fault. I probably wouldn’t have much cared if you’d told me anyway.” He walked down the stairs and picked up the phone, dialing the number quickly my heart and waiting very little time at all before the other end picked up. “Hey, Dawn, it’s Angel. Yeah, she called. Didn’t catch her, though.” Groo started muttering in Cordelia’s ear while the excited teenager on the other end of the line explained the situation. “Geez, Dawn, I’m sorry. I can find Hank for you if… is she now? And so are they?” Angel nodded in amusement. “Well, we’ve got the room. You’re not alone, are you? Good. Yeah, I’ll do what I can, definitely. Okay, take care. You’ve got my number here? Great. Bye.” He put the receiver down gently and strode over to the front doors, propping them open with one hand.
“Angel, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Cordelia called. “Groo thinks he smells a wolf.”
“Present,” Oz said slightly huskily as he walked in the door. Cordelia’s face broke into a grin as she ran toward him.
“Princess, no!” Groo proclaimed as he stepped forward and grabbed Cordelia’s arm.
She only smiled. “It’s just Oz, Groo. I went to high school with him. He’s not dangerous unless it’s the full moon.”
“I’m actually cured of that now,” Oz stated.
Angel nodded knowledgeably. “Nepal?”
Oz nodded. “You been?”
“Once or twice. I hear you’re teaching there.”
“Yeah. I didn’t think I’d enjoy it, but it’s rewarding.” A silence fell between the old acquaintances. Gunn raised an eyebrow and held out a hand to Oz.
“Until today, I never thought I’d meet anyone who spoke less than Angel.”
Oz smiled. “I get that a lot.”
“Gunn.”
“Oz.”
Fred came forward, grinning. “Hi Oz, I’m Fred. Are you staying long?”
Oz glanced at Angel. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Sounds like,” Angel provided.
Fred nodded. “Can we take your things up to a room for you, then?”
“We?” Gunn asked. “We’re working now? I thought it was break time. Isn’t it break time?” But he grabbed Oz’s bags and took them upstairs, following Fred.
Groo came up to Oz and shook his hand a little over-enthusiastically. “You knew my princess!”
“Very possibly.”
“She speaks of her life in Sunnydale often. It is a great honour to meet someone from there besides Angel.”
Oz shook his head. “It’s not, really. More of a horror, actually.”
Cordy interrupted the awkward conversation and hugged Oz. “How are you?”
“Dandy. Stoked, actually.”
Cordy raised her eyebrows. “What for?”
Oz glanced at Angel. “You didn’t tell them?”
“I only caught word about ten minutes ago.”
“Oh. Then I guess I’ll leave it a mystery. I don’t know that much about it, anyway.”
“I don’t think anyone does at this point,” came a voice from behind Oz and Angel. Both turned to see Riley Finn standing in the courtyard.
“Oh, crap,” Angel said.
“My sentiments exactly,” he returned. “Good to see you, Oz.”
“Likewise.”
“Are you working for him now, or…”
Oz shook his head. “Buffy called. Just a trip.”
“Uh, who’s he?” Cordy asked Angel.
“Buffy’s latest and greatest,” Angel told her grudgingly.
“Actually, that’d be Spike,” Riley revealed before he could catch himself.
A long pause followed. Angel’s face went through various expressions, and Cordelia laughed for a long time. “He’s serious,” Oz told her quietly. She got quiet and busied herself with watching Angel’s face.
“I’d forgotten what nausea felt like,” he said after a long time. Then he shook his head and stepped aside, showing Riley in. The agent stepped into the building with a bitter expression on his face and took a look.
“A vampire with digs like this… sometimes you really remind me of Dracula.”
Angel finally smiled. “Had the pleasure of meeting him, have you? Did he work his magic on Buffy?” Riley didn’t give an answer, but then Angel never really expected one.
“Greetings,” Groo said as he shook Riley’s hand, again over-enthusiastically. “Are you from Sunnydale as well?”
Riley nodded suspiciously. “I lived there for a while. I’m originally from Iowa.”
Groo grinned. “I am from Pylea! How much we have in common. Is… I-oh-wah a nice dimension?”
Cordelia stepped forward and pulled Groo back. “Don’t mind him, he just likes meeting new people. I’m Cordelia,” she said, holding her hand out.
“A—Riley Finn,” he said, catching himself.
“A Riley Finn, huh? There’s more than one of you?” Gunn asked as he and Fred came back down the stairs. Fred hit him playfully and told him to be polite.
“Uh… no, I just…”
“Finn, if you wanted to hide the fact that you’re an agent, maybe you shouldn’t have worn your army duds here,” Angel suggested. Riley blushed.
“I was in a hurry, all right? Buffy sounded… I figured she’d have wanted me here as soon as possible. Where is she, anyway?”
“Oh, balls,” came a drawling voice from behind Riley. Judging by the look on the faces of Angel and Cordy, and the fact that the voice made him want to destroy everything in sight, he guessed correctly that Spike had entered the building. The blonde vampire carried his normal sneer, made slightly hideous by the healing scars on his face. “Slayer, you invited soldier boy to party? Have you gone completely off your nut?”
“I needed all the reinforcements I could get, Spike. And I’ve heard way too much complaining from you, so if you don’t shut up, I’ll…”
Spike turned to her with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I’m already blackmailing you, Slayer. You don’t want to threaten me.”
Buffy and Spike stared at each other, Buffy with hatred and Spike with amusement, until Xander came stumbling in with the bags. He put them down and breathed heavily. “That’s it. Next time, you guys get to bring your own bags in.”
Fred took the opportunity to step in and break up the tension that entered the room the second Buffy did. “Hi, I’m Fred. It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much.”
Buffy looked mock-startled. “Really? That surprises me. Angel, have you gotten chatty?”
Angel remained silent. Buffy raised her eyebrows at him before ignoring him and smiling at Fred. “It’s nice to meet you. This is Xander, one of my best friends from high school.” Xander nodded in greeting, still doubled over in an effort to catch his breath.
Fred waved, and then introduced Gunn and Groo. Buffy greeted Cordy, Oz and Riley with hugs and waved tentatively to Angel to try and break the tension between them. He finally broke a slow smile and aided Gunn in bringing chairs into the lobby from Wesley’s old office.
“So,” started Buffy. “Is everyone here who should be?”
Fred peered around. “Where’s Lorne?”
“I’m here, noodle,” came the voice of the green demon from upstairs. He turned the corner and made his way down the stairs before stopping dead at the large crowd of people greeting him. “And so is everyone else, apparently.” He put up his hands in a surrendering motion. “I’m not evil, just so we’re clear.”
Buffy smiled. “Good. The more, the better. Everyone, I need you to sit down for this. It might take a while.”
“Uh, I don’t mean to be a… repeating… thing, but what exactly is going on here?” asked Lorne as he settled into a chair next to Fred.
“That’s what I’m about to explain.” She sighed heavily. “I’d just gotten over a stunt where I tried to kill everyone I care about last week—long story, don’t ask—when Willow came across my old birth certificate. The name of my father according to the certificate is Peter Kilpatrick, not Hank Summers, as I’d been led to believe. Now, since my father is a deadbeat, this came as partial relief—but not in its entirety. Willow googled the name, and as it turns out, Peter Kilpatrick is something much more than some ordinary guy.” She brought out a folder from her bag and passed a sheet of paper out to everyone. “I called you all here today because I need help tracking my father—Hank, I mean—down and finding out what he knows. Then I need your help finding my real father.” She paused and let everyone read over the text. “I think you understand where I’m coming from. This isn’t some strange stunt. I didn’t call you here just to find my dad; I called you here because I’m going to need all the help I can get in order to take him down.”
***
Giles sat down slowly and picked up the receiver. He caught a reflection of himself in the glass and was only mildly pleased that his lack of sleep made him look tougher and angrier. He wanted to be intimidating.
Ethan swaggered in with his usual idiotic smirk. The orange jumpsuit made Giles want to punch his face in all that much more. He picked up his end of the line. “Ripper. You’re the last person I expected a visit from. Well, maybe not the last… I have my doubts that the Prime Minister will ever show up.”
“Shut up, Ethan. I have no time for this. I’m here to talk about the past.”
“I’d be careful what I say, Ripper. These conversations are recorded.”
“Fantastic. Tell me about Peter.”
The smirk instantly disappeared from Ethan’s lips, followed closely by any colour in his face. “Rupert, please no, I beg of you…”
Giles smirked, since Ethan wasn’t keen on doing so at the moment. “Well, now… doesn’t that sound suspicious? I could be talking about any Peter, and you automatically assume I’m speaking of the one you dread. I haven’t even said anything to make you beg anything of me.”
A long silence followed. Giles was enjoying the feeling of causing Ethan such enormous torment, but was enjoying even more that the look on his face reflected said torment. “All right. What do you want to know?”
“The names of the women he slept with about twenty-two years ago.”
Despite the horror still etched on his face, Ethan managed a scoff. “Please. Even he wouldn’t remember that.”
“Damn, Ethan, forgive my poor memory… what was your name before you illegally changed it again?”
“Rupert, please…”
“Was it… Phillip? No, that’s not right… Percy? No, no, it doesn’t have the right ring to it…” Giles stopped when he noticed that Ethan was inches away from bursting into tears. “For Pete’s sake, man, pull yourself together. No pun intended,” he added with a terrible grin.
“I don’t remember the names, only the appearances, all right?”
“Well, as I recall, you’re a fairly decent artist, so I suppose the names don’t matter quite so much as long as you sketch each of them in intricate detail.”
Ethan ran a hand through his receding hair and began speaking in apparent tongues. Giles waited for a while before responding in the same strange language. This exchange of gibberish continued for another full minute before Giles, looking satisfied, hung up, stood, and walked out of the jail without more than two words to anyone else.
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