181 Fic: Gray into Gold
Title: Gray Into Gold
Author: Rebcake
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1150
Prompt: 181 Free For All (Happiness is a Warm Gun, The Beatles)
Characters: Giles, Wood, and the Angel Team
A/N: A sequel to the story of Robin Wood’s early professional life, The Front Lines. Set in an AU AtS Season 5, wherein Angel immediately informs Buffy of Spike’s return, leading to increased cooperation between their respective organizations.
Robin Wood had never liked the New Council of Slayers’ willingness - propensity, some might say - to ally itself with Not-Actively-Doing-Evil demons. It came up again in his first meeting with the newly minted Worldwide Head of Operations. Giles removed his glasses and tossed them on his desk while he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You must understand, the attacks of the First left us decimated, and with precious few of our former, more savory, partners. Naturally, those that are left have security concerns. We’re doing what we can to rebuild those relationships. On the bright side, some organizations that were uncomfortable with the previous Council are actually more willing to work with the new one. Quite a few covens that stayed clear of the old Council have come forward. They see us as less moribund, for some reason.”
Giles flashed a brief smile. Wood didn’t.
“Others are, shall we say, impressed by the increased fire power at the Council’s disposal. I don’t expect alliances built on fear to last, but there are those who share at least some of our goals. By necessity, we are obliged to consider a more, um, ecumenical approach for the moment.”
Robin snorted. “Nice euphemism.” It was Buffy’s doing, he knew. All the Sunnydale Slayers had been trained using “friendlies”, and were therefore open to the entire ridiculous idea of such a thing existing. He didn’t buy it, but he’d been down this road before. The recurring argument that none of them were without sin rankled, but it was impossible to overcome. If even Giles was willing to bend on this point, he figured he’d just have to get over it. Somehow. At least the Council wasn’t recruiting with a “Lose the Evil, Win a Slayer” tagline. He knew it was unfair, even as he thought it, and he resolved to quit obsessing.
Nevertheless, he wasn’t thrilled with his new assignment: to liaise with the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram & Hart on the matter of international collection of newly chosen Slayers. “Why can’t Buffy do it? She’s already there. She has the prior ‘relationship’ to fall back on. She’s the Head Slayer.”
“Who is on maternity leave, as well you know. I was going to send Andrew, but frankly, the situation could use someone with a bit more gravitas.” Robin huffed at that. “Don’t be ridiculous, man. I’m not implying that you are old. But you do have more degrees than Mr. Wells, you have professional skills at dealing with the needs of adolescents, and, well, you are the sort of man that Angel can respect.”
Angel. The other vampire. With a “soul”. Was he the only one who wished they’d stop throwing around that “soul” business? He’d like, just once, to see a little of this so-called “soul”.
He was ushered into the conference room by the incredibly shiny and pink receptionist. All California ditz, but sweet enough. Until she said, “I’m taking a blood break in a few minutes, but if you need anything, Tracy can help you out.” Vampire. Figures.
Pitchers of water and a stainless steel coffee maker graced the credenza. Everything was peaceful and comfortable and he couldn’t be more ill at ease. He almost longed for the chaos of his old high school job in Compton. At least the evil was straight-up ugly there.
The double doors of the office swung open, and in walked a guy who could only be the vaunted Angel. He met every expectation: expensive dark clothing, dark eyes, dark attitude. Robin was glad he was still standing. This vampire was a steamroller. He couldn’t look away.
“I’m Angel. CEO of the Los Angeles branch. I want you to know that it’s a priority of the firm to provide every assistance to the Slayers’ Council. Just tell the guys what you need. Nice to meet you.” He was gone in a swirl of his Hugo Boss jacket. Robin blinked.
“Ahem,” came an amused voice. “Well, you’ve met Angel. He’s getting overly efficient at these meet and greets. I’m Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Wolfram & Hart LA’s Council Liaison and Head of Research. How was your trip?”
This was the ex-Watcher he’d been briefed about. He had a warm handshake, a brisk, polite manner, a keen intellect. All the trimmings. How could he bear to work so closely with a demon? A demon that had sullied the Chosen One, no less? He would never understand how a good man, with every advantage in life, could fall so low.
They worked out the general overview of what needed to happen with the overseas Slayers: visas, immigration, guardianship, oversight. Wyndam-Pryce looked over his notes, and said, “Complex issues. I’m going to hand you over to our best legal mind. Come with me.”
They walked across the lobby and Wyndam-Pryce stuck his head into another office. “Got a few minutes? The Slayer Council rep is here and I think we’ll need you on this one.” He nodded and beckoned for Wood to follow him into the office.
“Robin Wood, this is Charles Gunn, our senior legal…
“Mr. Wood?”
“Charles?”
Wood stared at the young man in the bespoke suit and thought of Compton. This kid - not a kid anymore - was the kid he’d thought would go all the way until the crush of violence had wiped him off the map.
“I looked for you…”
“Vamps, man. We had to go underground...”
“You’re a lawyer?”
“Long story…”
“I see you two already know each other,” said Wyndam-Pryce with a smile. “I’ll just leave you to it, then.”
As the door clicked shut, Charles and Robin were pounding each other on the back. A few fist bumps later, they stood a manly distance apart, grinning like kids.
“You know, I already have a hell of a time convincing those guys all black folks don’t know each other,” said Gunn.
Wood slung an arm around Gunn’s neck. “Too damn bad. I can’t believe you’re here. In one piece. Breathing. Working…for a vampire.” His good mood took a little downshift.
“Eh. That’s an even longer story. It’s good to see you, man. Here we are, both fighting the good fight. You taught me my first throw, and now you’re a mucky muck for the Slayers! You must be one hard core mother.”
“It’s been interesting.”
“Hell, let’s take the rest of the day off. I know a little place that’ll take you back to your mama’s kitchen,” said Gunn.
Robin knew what he meant, even if he didn’t remember his actual mama’s kitchen. “Sounds great. I want to hear all these loooong stories of yours.”
It wasn’t until the wee hours, with his tie undone and his arm slung around the surprisingly understanding green demon, belting out “I Will Survive” with Gunn, that he realized that he suddenly saw the benefit of cooperating with a variety of people.
FIN
A/N 2: Dear velvetwhip put a line in Chapter 10 of her fic Come Pouring Down Unified (NSFW) about Buffy’s “blessedly ecumenical attitude about vampires” and I am still all excited about the concept. Hence: full-on imitation. It’s sincere!
Author: Rebcake
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1150
Prompt: 181 Free For All (Happiness is a Warm Gun, The Beatles)
Characters: Giles, Wood, and the Angel Team
A/N: A sequel to the story of Robin Wood’s early professional life, The Front Lines. Set in an AU AtS Season 5, wherein Angel immediately informs Buffy of Spike’s return, leading to increased cooperation between their respective organizations.
Robin Wood had never liked the New Council of Slayers’ willingness - propensity, some might say - to ally itself with Not-Actively-Doing-Evil demons. It came up again in his first meeting with the newly minted Worldwide Head of Operations. Giles removed his glasses and tossed them on his desk while he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You must understand, the attacks of the First left us decimated, and with precious few of our former, more savory, partners. Naturally, those that are left have security concerns. We’re doing what we can to rebuild those relationships. On the bright side, some organizations that were uncomfortable with the previous Council are actually more willing to work with the new one. Quite a few covens that stayed clear of the old Council have come forward. They see us as less moribund, for some reason.”
Giles flashed a brief smile. Wood didn’t.
“Others are, shall we say, impressed by the increased fire power at the Council’s disposal. I don’t expect alliances built on fear to last, but there are those who share at least some of our goals. By necessity, we are obliged to consider a more, um, ecumenical approach for the moment.”
Robin snorted. “Nice euphemism.” It was Buffy’s doing, he knew. All the Sunnydale Slayers had been trained using “friendlies”, and were therefore open to the entire ridiculous idea of such a thing existing. He didn’t buy it, but he’d been down this road before. The recurring argument that none of them were without sin rankled, but it was impossible to overcome. If even Giles was willing to bend on this point, he figured he’d just have to get over it. Somehow. At least the Council wasn’t recruiting with a “Lose the Evil, Win a Slayer” tagline. He knew it was unfair, even as he thought it, and he resolved to quit obsessing.
Nevertheless, he wasn’t thrilled with his new assignment: to liaise with the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram & Hart on the matter of international collection of newly chosen Slayers. “Why can’t Buffy do it? She’s already there. She has the prior ‘relationship’ to fall back on. She’s the Head Slayer.”
“Who is on maternity leave, as well you know. I was going to send Andrew, but frankly, the situation could use someone with a bit more gravitas.” Robin huffed at that. “Don’t be ridiculous, man. I’m not implying that you are old. But you do have more degrees than Mr. Wells, you have professional skills at dealing with the needs of adolescents, and, well, you are the sort of man that Angel can respect.”
Angel. The other vampire. With a “soul”. Was he the only one who wished they’d stop throwing around that “soul” business? He’d like, just once, to see a little of this so-called “soul”.
He was ushered into the conference room by the incredibly shiny and pink receptionist. All California ditz, but sweet enough. Until she said, “I’m taking a blood break in a few minutes, but if you need anything, Tracy can help you out.” Vampire. Figures.
Pitchers of water and a stainless steel coffee maker graced the credenza. Everything was peaceful and comfortable and he couldn’t be more ill at ease. He almost longed for the chaos of his old high school job in Compton. At least the evil was straight-up ugly there.
The double doors of the office swung open, and in walked a guy who could only be the vaunted Angel. He met every expectation: expensive dark clothing, dark eyes, dark attitude. Robin was glad he was still standing. This vampire was a steamroller. He couldn’t look away.
“I’m Angel. CEO of the Los Angeles branch. I want you to know that it’s a priority of the firm to provide every assistance to the Slayers’ Council. Just tell the guys what you need. Nice to meet you.” He was gone in a swirl of his Hugo Boss jacket. Robin blinked.
“Ahem,” came an amused voice. “Well, you’ve met Angel. He’s getting overly efficient at these meet and greets. I’m Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Wolfram & Hart LA’s Council Liaison and Head of Research. How was your trip?”
This was the ex-Watcher he’d been briefed about. He had a warm handshake, a brisk, polite manner, a keen intellect. All the trimmings. How could he bear to work so closely with a demon? A demon that had sullied the Chosen One, no less? He would never understand how a good man, with every advantage in life, could fall so low.
They worked out the general overview of what needed to happen with the overseas Slayers: visas, immigration, guardianship, oversight. Wyndam-Pryce looked over his notes, and said, “Complex issues. I’m going to hand you over to our best legal mind. Come with me.”
They walked across the lobby and Wyndam-Pryce stuck his head into another office. “Got a few minutes? The Slayer Council rep is here and I think we’ll need you on this one.” He nodded and beckoned for Wood to follow him into the office.
“Robin Wood, this is Charles Gunn, our senior legal…
“Mr. Wood?”
“Charles?”
Wood stared at the young man in the bespoke suit and thought of Compton. This kid - not a kid anymore - was the kid he’d thought would go all the way until the crush of violence had wiped him off the map.
“I looked for you…”
“Vamps, man. We had to go underground...”
“You’re a lawyer?”
“Long story…”
“I see you two already know each other,” said Wyndam-Pryce with a smile. “I’ll just leave you to it, then.”
As the door clicked shut, Charles and Robin were pounding each other on the back. A few fist bumps later, they stood a manly distance apart, grinning like kids.
“You know, I already have a hell of a time convincing those guys all black folks don’t know each other,” said Gunn.
Wood slung an arm around Gunn’s neck. “Too damn bad. I can’t believe you’re here. In one piece. Breathing. Working…for a vampire.” His good mood took a little downshift.
“Eh. That’s an even longer story. It’s good to see you, man. Here we are, both fighting the good fight. You taught me my first throw, and now you’re a mucky muck for the Slayers! You must be one hard core mother.”
“It’s been interesting.”
“Hell, let’s take the rest of the day off. I know a little place that’ll take you back to your mama’s kitchen,” said Gunn.
Robin knew what he meant, even if he didn’t remember his actual mama’s kitchen. “Sounds great. I want to hear all these loooong stories of yours.”
It wasn’t until the wee hours, with his tie undone and his arm slung around the surprisingly understanding green demon, belting out “I Will Survive” with Gunn, that he realized that he suddenly saw the benefit of cooperating with a variety of people.
FIN
A/N 2: Dear velvetwhip put a line in Chapter 10 of her fic Come Pouring Down Unified (NSFW) about Buffy’s “blessedly ecumenical attitude about vampires” and I am still all excited about the concept. Hence: full-on imitation. It’s sincere!