FIC: A Beautiful Friendship 8/10 (Ensemble)
Back to Part 6
Part 7, Shocked!
Al's is bustling; it's another busy night. Willow is at the bar getting drink fixings for Xander. As Giles plays guitar and the orchestra backs him, Buffy enters with her posse and passes by Xander's table.
Willow brings Xander a fresh Brussels sprout and a glass of pear juice. "Xander, you're getting to be your best customer, though considering the stuff you serve here, it's a wonder anybody ever comes back," she snipes before hustling off to contact the Fic Characters Guild shop rep.
Spike arrives and strolls over to Xander's table. "Well Alex, I am very pleased with you. Now you are beginning to live like a Frenchman, even though I'm still pretty sure I'm actually English and shouldn't really know what I'm talking about."
Xander spares a sardonic glance for Spike. "That was some going over your men gave my place this afternoon. We just barely got cleaned up in time to open." He pours some pear juice for Spike and gives a squeeze of the Brussels sprout into the glass.
Spike snickers at Xander's complaint. "I told Buffy we wouldn't find ze talismans 'ere. But I told my men to be especially destructive. You know 'ow zat impresses ze slayers? And it's just a 'ell of a lot of fun to zrow furniture!" Spike chuckles (but doesn't smile) then gets serious. "Alex. 'ave you got zose talismans of transit?"
Spike's use of sneaky interrogation tactic number 17 does not fool Xander one bit. "Spike, are you pro-Slayer, or a New England Patriot?
"Serves me right. Ze subject is closed," Spike admits, sighing in defeat.
"Well it looks like you are a little late," Xander observes.
"'Uh?"
Xander watches as Anya and an unknown slayer approach the bar. "So. Anya has gone over to the enemy," observes Xander, and with a lewd leer adds, "and is swinging for the other team. Ah, the fun we could have had if I'd only known she might bat that way."
Spike is also amused. "'Oo knows? In 'er own way she may constitute an entire second front." His amusement vanishes when he notices Buffy at her table. "I zink it's time for me to flatter Buffy a little. I'll see you later, Alex."
At the bar, Anya and the slayer place their order. "Hey! Andrew, ya' little monkey guy!"
"French asparagus!" orders the slayer.
"Wha--" asks Andrew, confused. He's really paying more attention to Anya, who looks like she's had too much oat bran this day.
Anya is staring goggle-eyed at Andrew, barely able to maintain her seat. "Put up a whole row of them, Andrew. Starting here and ending here." She indicates with her hands where she wants her asparagus, and she giggles. "We'll make a green picket fence!"
"We will begin with two," orders the slayer.
A nearby vengeance demon makes a remark to Anya in medieval Norwegian "Hey! You are no ex-demon to go with a slayer like this!"
Anya, responds angrily in medieval Norwegian, "What are you butting in for?"
"I'm butting in--"
"It's none of your business!" shouts Anya.
The slayer, who actually was Norwegian by a strange twist of fate, but did not really know medieval Norwegian, tries to interject, "What did you say? Would you repeat it?"
The demon spares a withering glance at the intrusive slayer. "What I said is none of your business!"
"I will make it my business!" the slayer responds, getting her dander up.
Anya yells at them both, "Stop! I beg you, stop!"
Slayers at another table rise to step into the developing commotion as Xander comes up and separates the two. "I don't like disturbances in my place. Either lay off the asparagus or get out!"
The vengeance demon is still furious. "Dirty slayer! Someday we'll have our vengeance! It's what we do best!"
Buffy has been observing the incident from her table. She leans over to Spike and says, "You see, Captain William. The situation is not as under control as you think."
"My dear Buffy, we are trying to cooperate with your army, but we cannot regulate ze feelings of ze people and ze demons."
"Captain, are you entirely certain which side you're on?" Buffy asks, looking him straight in the eyes.
Spike is unfazed by Buffy's glare. "I 'ave no conviction. I blow with ze wind. You might say I am Gone With ze Wind! And ze prevailing wind 'appens to be from--ACK!" He stops as he gets a whiff of a malodorous stench. He looks around. "Tara! Go fart in someone else's general direction! And for God's sake, woman, lay off ze asparagus!"
Buffy is stoic and ignores the breeze. "And if it should change?"
Waving his cap about to clear the air, Spike responds, "Surely ze Slayer Army doesn't admit zat possibility?"
"We are concerned with more than about Casablanca. We know that Africa is honeycombed with traitors, waiting for their chance, waiting perhaps for a leader."
"A leader? Like Angel?" asks Spike.
"Uh huh. I have been thinking."
"Whoa, zere's a new one," mutters Spike.
"What?!"
"Never mind. Please, do go on," says Spike, sparing her the sardonic glance he borrowed from Xander.
Buffy continues. "It is too dangerous to let him go. It may be too dangerous to let him stay."
"I see what you mean," Spike said thoughtfully. "Excuse me, please." Spike gets up, nods his goodbye to Buffy, and heads for the game room for another try at Donkey-Kong.
Fred bumps into him as she leaves the game room. "'Ow's ze barrel zrowing gorilla treating you?" he asks her. Fred's glum look tells him everything he wants to know. "Aw, too bad. You'll find 'im over zere," he tells her, pointing to Xander, who has by now returned to his table.
Fred nods silently and goes over to his table. "Mr. Alex?"
"Yes?"
"Could I speak to you for just a moment, please?" She is nervous, wringing her hands endlessly.
"How did you get in here? You're underage. Or at least you look it."
"I came with Captain William."
"I should have known." Xander shakes his head.
"Gunn, my well-hung boyfriend, is with me too."
"He is? Well Spike is getting broad-minded, but I always suspected that about him. Sit down. Will you have a drink?"
She shakes her head
"No, of course not. Do you mind if I do?"
"No." Fred is still wringing her hands. "Mr. Alex, what kind of man is Captain William?"
"Oh, he's not really a 'man', or at least he didn't used to be, I guess nowadays he's just like any other, only more so. Or less so, depending on your point of view."
"No. I mean, is he trustworthy? Is his word any--"
"Now just a minute!" Xander sharply interrupts her, "Who told you to ask me that?"
"He did."
"Hmmm, thought so. Where's Gunn?"
"At the Pac-Man table, trying to win enough reward points to trade in for our exit talisman. Of course, he's losing. I love him dearly, but the fool just didn't learn from the last time he gambled his soul away."
"How long have you been married?"
"Eight weeks. We died, and then we both joined this group thing, y'know? There was this discount, see? And we got better. But in Bulgaria! Oh things are very bad there, Mr. Alex. Gunn didn't like it one bit, y'know 'cause there were no brothers, or 'hoods, or dogs, or homeboys or whatever else he calls them. So, Gunn and I, we do not want our children to grow up in such a place."
Xander suddenly feels weary. "So you decided to go back to America."
"Yes! But we hardly have any money, even after the discount. And traveling is so expensive and difficult! It was much more than we thought to get here. And then Captain William sees us and he's so kind. He wants to help us."
"Yes, I'll just bet. I'll bet he had a regular menagerie in mind."
"He tells us he can get us an exit talisman, but we have no points or cheap plastic toys made by southeast Asian child slave labor."
"Does he know that?"
"Oh, yes!"
"And he is still willing to give you a talisman? Yup, he most definitely has a threesome in mind!"
"Yes Mr. Alex!" Fred's face is downcast.
"And you want to know..."
"Will he keep his word?"
Xander then delivers the diamond hard, sharp edged yet blunt and bloody brutal truth of life in Casablanca. "He always has."
Fred is rightfully disturbed, for she comes from the Bible Belt, and such things are just wrong! "Oh, Mister Alex, you are a man. If someone loved you very much, so that your happiness was the only thing she wanted in the whole world, but she did a bad thing to make certain of it, could you forgive her?"
Xander stares off into the distance with a wistful, almost lonely, expression. "Nobody ever loved me that much," he quietly whispers.
"...And he never knew what he was about to get into--whoa, bad choice of words!--and the girl kept this bad thing from him until he couldn't back out? That would be alright, wouldn't it?"
Xander's thoughts return to the here and now, his reply harsh, sharp, and rough. "You want my advice?"
"Oh, yes, please!"
"Go back to Bulgaria."
"Oh, but if you know what it means to us to leave Europe, to get to America! Oh, but if Gunn should back out!"
"Yes, well everybody in Casablanca has problems. Yours may work out." This last remark is said with a modicum of sympathy. "You'll excuse me." Xander stands abruptly and walks away.
Fred speaks tonelessly to his retreating back, "Thank you, Mr. Alex." She is too demoralized to move.
Xander checks the reservation list as Cordelia and Angel walk in. Giles is now playing a rocking cover of "California Girls". The total lack of irony is killing Xander. However, he is reasonably gracious as he greets them. "Good evening."
"Good evening," answers Angel. "You see, here we are again. Do you like my new rug?" Angel asks, pirouetting on his toe to show off his new Bob Marley dreads.
"It's...it's...something. Yeah, really...something." Xander rolls his eyes at Cordelia. She returns a small nod and a don't-blame-me look.
"Could we have a table close to Giles?" asks Cordelia.
"I take that as a great compliment to Giles. I suppose he reminds you of Sunnydale and of, well, happier days."
"And as far away from Buffy as possible," demands Angel.
Xander snaps his fingers. "Tara! Table thirty."
"Yes sir. Please, right this way," and she begins to lead them into the room.
"I'll have Giles play 'Brown Eyed Girl', I believe that's your favorite tune," comments Xander in an aside to Cordelia.
"Not really, but thank you." She smiles.
Xander goes over to Giles and whispers in his ear. He begins to play his rocking cover of "Brown Eyed Girl" and Lorne comes bounding in from off-stage to belt out the words.
"Two Turnip and Raspberry-Radish Rockers, please," Angel orders before Tara leaves the table.
In the game room, Gunn sits at the Pac-Man table. He has only a few game tokens left and looks bewildered and confused. Maybe even bothered a bit. But probably not bewitched, at least if your following the Las Vegas line on the action. As Xander comes up behind Gunn, Jonathan, the game overseer, speaks to Gunn, "Do you wish to try another game, sir?"
Gunn is dejected, defeated, as he mumbles, "No. No, I guess not." All the Gilbert and Sullivan he's got crammed in his head just doesn't help out with working the joystick.
Xander stands behind him. "Have you tried to catch 'Clyde' when you're in the lower right corner?" Gunn looks at Xander, who slowly nods his head back at him, then back down. Gunn puts his tokens into the slot to begin again.
Xander and Jonathan exchange a glance. Xander quirks his eyebrow, "You too, huh?"
"Yeah," Jonathan whines back. But even though he's only been on the job for a few minutes he knows the score and he understands exactly what to do. Willow is watching, fascinated, now that the FCG shop rep, a woman, has calmed her down.
Gunn plays, wrenching the joy-stick practically out of its socket as he chases down the little orange "Clyde" ghost. He nails it in the lower right corner and suddenly all the other ghosts slow down for as long as it takes to clear the screen. This continues for several screens before it finally stops working. Gunn has racked up the high score for the day, and the machine spits out winning tickets worth thousands of points. Jonathan gives over the pile of tickets to Gunn.
Spike, nearby, takes notice of the going's on at the Pac-Man table.
"Play it again, Sam," commands Xander. "Sorry. Gunn, I mean. Play it again, Gunn."
Gunn does and wins again. He gets an even bigger pile of tickets.
Xander looks him straight in the eye. "Cash it in. Get the extra-large Barrel of Monkeys set. And don't ever come back."
After a stunned Gunn leaves, a customer complains to Willow. "Say, are you sure this place is honest?"
"Honest! As honest as the day is long!" That shop forewoman is MUCH better than Kennedy or Tara ever were, down where it counts. She really is in a much better mood!
"How we doing tonight?" Xander asks Jonathan.
"Well, a couple of thousand tickets less than I thought there would be."
Xander spares him a small smile and heads for the door. Fred runs up and hugs him
"Mister Alex! I--"
"Gunn, he's just a lucky guy." Fred skips away, as happy as a clam on 'ludes, looking around to find Captain William.
Willow is impressed by Xander's new-found generosity. "Xander, can I get you a cup of Peppercorn-Pumpkin Punch?"
"No thanks, Will."
Spike, having observed everything, gets up from his Donkey-Kong game to follow Xander. Gunn and Fred see him and go to intercept him.
"Captain William, may I--" starts Gunn.
"Oh, not 'ere, please!" Spike's head swivels rapidly to make sure no-one is paying attention. "Come to my office in ze morning. We'll do everything business like."
"We'll be there at six!" Gunn exults.
"I'll be zere at ten," smirks Spike. "I am very 'appy for both of you. Still, it's very strange zat you won." He looks over and sees Xander finishing his conversation with Willow, "Well, maybe not so strange. I'll see you in ze morning. And no 'anky-panky, I promise."
Fred is joyous. "Thank you so much, Captain William," she cries.
In the main room, Willow is whispering to Andrew. "No!" exclaims Andrew. Willow nods her head. Andrew runs to Xander. "Xander! You've done a beautiful thing! Truly beautiful!"
"Go away, you crazy dweeb!"
Willow pours a Potato-Prune Peeler for Xander, even though he said he didn't want anything to drink. While Willow is doing that, Xander steals a looks at Cordelia just as Spike comes up to him.
"As I suspected. You're a rank sap!" Spike informs him.
"Yeah? Why?" demands Xander, turning to face his accuser, sparing him a withering one-eyed evil glare.
"Why do you interfere with my dirty little trysts, I've been trying to get into 'er pants for weeks now. And Gunn along would have been...well, 'ow shall I say this?"
"Just don't!" Xander pleads. "Put it down as a gesture to love. You'll have to spank the monkey on your own tonight."
"Well, I forgive you zis time. But I'll be in tomorrow night with a breathtaking blond, and it will make me very 'appy if she, or 'ee, loses. Oy!" He smirks and saunters away.
After he is gone for some moments, Angel approaches Xander. "Xander, I wonder if I could talk to you?"
"Go ahead," Xander is barely able to contain his giggles as Angel's dreadlocks flap about.
"Well, isn't there some other place? It's rather confidential what I have to say."
"My office, then."
"Right." Angel follows Xander as he heads up the stairs and into his office. Xander goes behind his desk and waits for Angel to begin.
"You must know, it's very important I get out of Casablanca. It's my privilege to be one of the leaders of a great movement. You know what I have been doing. You know what it means to the work, to the lives of thousands and thousands of innocent demons and the people who help them that I be free to reach America and continue my work."
"I'm not interested in politics, demons, magic, heroism, or any of that Boy Scout crap. The problems of the world are not in my department. I'm a poor and simple juice bar keeper."
"My friends underground tell me you have quite the record. I already know some of the things you did while I was still in Sunnydale, and I have since heard many of the things after. You saved Spike from suicide when he was still a vampire. You nearly married an ex-demon, later rescuing her from Buffy on at least one occasion."
"What of it?"
"Isn't it strange you always happened to be fighting on the side of the demon."
"Yes, I found that a very painful hobby, too. But then no one ever said I was much of a man. Well, except in the sack."
Angel stands. "Are you enough of a man to appreciate the offer of a hundred thousand tiddly-winks."
"I appreciate it, but I don't accept it."
"I'll raise it to two hundred."
"Deadboy, my not-friend with the awful rug, you could make it a million, or three. My answer would still be the same."
"There must be some reason why you won't let me have them."
"There is. A couple actually. First, I just hate vampires on general principles. I thought I had stated that clearly back in episode one. And I specifically don't like you, just as I had also clearly stated in episode twelve. And I don't like your wig." Pausing to draw in a deep breath, he finishes, "And I also suggest you ask your seer."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said, ask your seer!"
"My seer?" Angel striking him a puzzled look. Cordelia's visions had been a secret to most people, especially any of the ex-Scoobies.
"Yes."
Before Angel can confront him and challenge him about his seer, they hear loud voices singing downstairs. A group of slayers are singing very, very loudly. I am woman, hear me roar
In numbers too big to ignore
And I know too much to go back an' pretend...
Xander and Angel move out of the office and to the balcony above the main room. At the bar, Spike is watching with small interest. Angel is tense. He runs down the stairs, passes the table where Cordelia is sitting, heading straight for the orchestra.
The slayers get even louder as they continue. Meanwhile, Anya with her pet slayer, is at the bar staring into her drink.
Angel speaks to the orchestra. "Play 'Oh Canada!' Play it!" he commands, as the slayers continue their chorus. ...But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong
The orchestra members look up toward Xander, who nods his head.
Angel starts to sing, attempting to drown out the slayers, who are being led by Buffy. I am invincible
O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
I am woman!
The slayers, numerous as they are, are soon drowned out by the entire crowd belting out "Oh, Canada" at the tops of their lungs. With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
Buffy and her hangers on finally give up and sit while the other song keeps going. From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee!
Anya jumps up and sings, with tears in her eyes. God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee!
Cordelia proudly looks on at Angel as he sings with determination and passion. The entire bar is singing. It is a triumphant moment! O Canada, we stand on guard for thee!
The last notes fade away and Anya shouts, "Go Maple-Leafs! Go Oilers!"
The crowd cheers as she shouts out each name. Willow, now standing with Tara, leans over and whispers in her ear, "I knew he was a hockey fan, but this is just silly!"
"Ah, yes. Al's is a silly place," giggles Tara, earning a groan from the beta reader.
Anya continues to shout out Canadian NHL teams, "Go Canucks! Go Flames, Go Canadiens!" The crowd is getting noisier and rowdier with every cheer, responding lustily.
"Go Blue Jays!!" yells out Andrew. He is immediately pelted with asparagus spears and peach pits by the rowdy crowd. The crowd remains standing and cheering as some continue to throw kiwi rinds and grapefruit seeds at Andrew.
Buffy is furious and stomps over to Spike. "You see what I mean!" she screeches. "If Angel's presence in a juice bar can inspire this unfortunate demonstration of hockey solidarity, what more will his presence in Casablanca bring on? I advise that this place be shut at once!"
"But everybody's 'aving such a good time!" Spike answers cheerfully, sparing her a teasing look, giving him twenty points on the previous frame.
Buffy is not placated. "Yes, much too good a time. The place is to be closed!"
"But I 'ave no excuse to close it," dodges Spike.
"Find one!!"
Gendarme officers, mostly out-of-work NHL players, surround Angel, congratulating him. Spike considers for a moment then blows a loud blast from his whistle. The room goes quiet. Spikes shouts out, "Everybody is to leave 'ere immediately! Zis juice bar is closed till further notice! Clear ze room at once!"
The crowd becomes restless as waves of anger stir among them. Yet they really have no choice. The patrons soon begin to get up and leave. Xander rushes up to Spike, demanding, "How can you close me up? On what grounds?"
Spike swivels his head about, as if he's looking for something in the room, refusing to look Xander in the eye. "I am shocked! Shocked! To find zat knock-off video games from China are 'ere!"
Xander deflates, at a bit of a loss against this ridiculous and obviously trumped-up charge. Jonathan comes from the game room and hands Spike a wad of tickets. "Your winnings, sir."
Quickly lowering his voice, Spike thanks Jonathan, "Oh, zank you very much." Then he hides the tickets in his pocket and resumes shouting, "Everybody out!"
Buffy approaches Cordelia. "After this disturbance it is not safe for Angel to stay in Casablanca, I should think." Buffy is smirking a smug smile.
Cordelia's reply is tepid, carefully unemotional and neutral. "This morning you implied it was not safe for him to leave." "That is true, except for one destination, to return to London."
"London?"
"Uh huh, under a safe conduct from me," answers an arrogant Buffy.
"What value is that? You may recall what Slayer guarantees have been worth in the past."
"There are only two other alternatives for him."
"Yeah?"
"It is possible the local authorities may find a reason to put him in a hell dimension right here."
Cordelia unsuccessfully hides her shock, managing to stammer out her next question. "And the other alternative?"
"My dear prissy rich bitch, with the hair of many lengths and colors, perhaps you have already observed that in Casablanca human life is cheap, vampire non-life even cheaper. Good night!" her lips gently curled up in an evil wicked smile.
Cordelia, though never the fastest in the brain department, understands completely. She ponders the problem as Angel returns to the table. "What happened with Xander?
His response is short and evasive. "We'll discuss it later."
Onto Part 8!