Unacceptable Losses

Silence reigned in the lobby after Lorne outlined the problem: The LA Valley Rental Agency had an apartment that couldn’t be rented due to a violent ghost inhabiting it, and an agent privately contacted him to assess and, if possible, eliminate the problem. However, the core of the problem lay not with the existence of the ghost, but rather its identity.

“So can’t we just exorcise his phantom ass?” Faith asked. “Won’t that send him on to his eternal whatnot?”

Lorne glanced at Angel, not wanting to become the target of the frustrated rage that he felt building in the vampire, but before he could speak, Xander interjected.

“It doesn’t work that way, does it,” he spoke quietly. “Ghosts hang around because of unresolved issues, so we need to find a way to help him get…” he gestured vaguely, “resolved.” He had been paying vague attention to the story, not volunteering, but reminders of the Sadie Hawkins dance prompted him to join the discussion. Somehow these days, he had more appreciation of the pain that the ghost-boy felt over murdering his lover.

“So, what’s his issue?” Dawn latched onto the most relevant concern.

“We already took care of his issue,” Angel ground out. “He should have moved on then.”

“Apparently your help didn’t take,” Spike snarked.

“Wait, you know this Dennis guy?” Dawn swiveled to face Angel squarely.

“His mother buried him buried in the wall of her apartment for dating the wrong girl. We exorcised the mother, and Dennis popped out of the wall.” He spoke baldly. “He hung around.”

“Why am I feeling like there’s more to that story?”

Lorne answered Dawn when it became clear that Angel had no more to say on the subject. “The last person who lived in that apartment for any length of time was Cordelia.”

“Oh,” Dawn turned back around and focused her gaze on the floor. Mentioning Cordy’s name around the Hyperion had been known to lead to repressed anger and marathon brooding sessions from their volatile leader.

Xander took a deep breath, “So we help him, right? It’s what Cordy would want.”

“Cordelia’s dead,” Angel grated. “Whatever his issue is now, we can’t help. Exorcise him. Put him out of his misery.” With that judgment, the vampire stormed through the basement doors on his way to the sewers.

In the silence following his exit, Illyria strode in to the lobby from the basement. “The half-breed mourns in the subterranean halls.”

Faith exchanged a look with Dawn. “Right. I’m on vamp duty. You guys work with Lorne on the ghost problem.” She grabbed an axe from the weapons cabinet and disappeared after Angel.

“Have you returned to take your place at your leader’s side?” Illyria crossed the room to stand before Lorne.

“Er, good to see you, too.” Lorne shifted uncomfortably.

“You deserted your comrades in the aftermath of the battle.”

“Lay off, Blue.”

Xander could feel Spike tense next to him as his eyes flashed amber.

“Lorne settled that with Angel before the first shot was fired.” Spike managed to convey threat while speaking softly.

Illyria gave him a cool appraisal. “Your army does not fear its leader. Such disrespect would not have gone unpunished in my time.”

“Not your time, anymore, is it? ‘Sides, it’s not like the Great Pouf is one to inspire much respect these days.” Spike snorted.

“No,” she agreed. “He does not rule his people any longer.” She walked to the desk and began to sort through books that lay open from their search for the Riveda ritual.

Lorne exhaled as Illyria’s attention wandered elsewhere. He looked at Spike. “Has he been wound that tight since…”

Spike nodded wearily, “Not getting any better, mate. Brought the ‘Bit and Slayer in to help him out.”

“Yeah, and it’s working so well. They’ll have him hosting Tupperware parties and running for LA Man of the Year in no time.”

“You. Shut it.” Spike pointed at Xander and snarled. “We still have to have a conversation about those bags and just where the bloody hell you thought you were going.”

Xander stood and towered in front of the irate vampire. “Angel said pack. I packed. Angel said go. I’m going. Really, Spike, it’s a story that a 3 year old could follow. Not that it’s any of your fucking business.” He shoved aside the pangs of conscience that poked at him for being such an ass after the kindness Spike had shown before, and he ruthlessly repressed the thought that it was that very kindness that he was lashing out at.

Spike growled, but before he could utter whatever threat percolated, Dawn stamped her thick-soled boot on the floor, demanding their attention.

“Hey! Has everybody forgotten that we’re actually still trying to run an investigation agency here? And that we have a paying customer?” She glared at Spike and Xander before glancing at Lorne, “You are paying, right?”

Lorne grinned and pulled a roll of cash from his pocket. “My fee becomes yours if you’ll take this one off my hands, sugar pie.” His expression turned serious, “But not if the solution includes exorcism. Then my business goes to any elsewhere I can find.”

“Ok, we’re agreed that we’re not gonna exorcise Dennis.”

********************

Faith dropped gracefully down into the sewers beneath the Hyperion. She stood still, reaching out with slayer senses. Some distance away, she heard the faint sounds of muffled blows and curses. With a quick glance back at the sewer entrance, she tightened her grip on the sword she carried and loped off in the direction of the fighting.

As she drew closer, the words grunted out between blows became clearer.

“Get. Out. Of. My. City. Why won’t you. Just leave. Me. Alone!” The soft explosion of dust marked the sound of a vampire meeting its end, and Faith put on a final burst of speed as silence echoed eerily. Her heart clenched at the cessation of Angel’s words, fearing to find nothing more than a pile of ash.

The pain holding her heart in its grip didn’t lessen any as she reached the junction where a drawn out battle had clearly taken place. Angel knelt alone, surrounded by the remains of what had probably at one time been an entire nest of vampires. Even in their shared tramp through Angelus’s memories where Angel dug through garbage to feed on rats, she had never seen the champion so defeated.

She moved cautiously, lowering the sword.

“Go away.” The defeated, hopeless words dropped into the silence.

“Can’t do that, big guy.”

Angel turned his face to her then, and she nearly rocked backward in the face of his despair. Anger quickly took its place, however, and the vampire levered himself to his feet with an easy grace.

“You can leave. You won’t.”

“Gonna try to throw my ass out the way you did Harris?” She cocked her head and offered him a look of challenge.

Almost before she could register the movement, Angel pinned her against the cement wall of the sewer.

“We’ve done this dance before? Remember, Angelus? Kicked your ass that time, too.” She shoved back and at the same time brought a knee up toward Angel’s groin. He avoided the knee, but in shifting out of the way, he lost his grip on Faith’s sword hand. She surprised him. Instead of swinging the sword at him, she slammed the pommel into his face. He reeled from the force of the blow, looking up, startled when she didn’t press the advantage.

She stared down at him. “Or maybe this isn’t that dance, is it? Huh. Should be raining, shouldn’t it? For the symmetry or somethin’?” She glanced upward as if puzzled.

Recognition flickered in his eyes at her reference, and he turned his gaze onto the ash-coated sewer floor.

“You don’t understand anything.”

Faith leaned back against the sewer wall and crossed her arms, tapping the sword casually against her jeans.

“You know, I’ve never been one for the inspirational speeches. But then, we always had people like Buffy and Wes around for those, didn’t we.” She watched the pain crease across Angel’s brow.

“Not that they really started out being any good at them. God, I remember when I first met Wes. What a complete loser. Fucking poker up his English ass. So ready to believe in the council, always spouting off about duty and sacrifice like he knew something about it.”

“Shut up.” Angel growled, eyes flashing amber.

“But, damn man. Last time I saw him, he had that whole sexy danger guy thing going for him. Hell, he took on Angelus with nothing more than a shotgun and a drugged up slayer.”

“What’s your point, Faith?”

“What d’ya suppose happened to him between the time he was council head boy and taking on a 300 year old vampire pretty much barehanded?” She affected a look of confused concentration.

“He would have been better off staying with the Council.”

“And how exactly to you figure that one?”

“He wouldn’t be dead.” Angel closed his eyes, as if to remove himself from the conversation he so clearly did not want to have.

“Ok, point taken.” She nodded amicably. “Except that he kinda would be – The First pretty much blew up the Council last year. Killed ‘em all.”

Angel refused to respond, but the tension in the atmosphere thickened.

“But maybe what you’re stuck on is that he wouldn’t have been killed on your watch.” Angel flinched. “Well, suck it up.” She threw him a disgusted look. “Yeah, he died. Fighting evil. Same as Cordelia. Same as Fred. Same as every other person that you’re carrying around in that fucking dead heart of yours.” This time, she was prepared as Angel lashed out and she responded with a powerful punch of her own. For a time, blows and grunts of exertion became the only conversation. With a particularly vicious punch, Angel knocked Faith to the ground. He stood over her, drawing in unnecessary breaths, eyes bright with tears he couldn’t afford to release.

“I refused to kill you once before. I still won’t. But I’m not going to get anyone else killed fighting my mission.”

Faith spat out blood and gave a harsh laugh. “Man, I never realized what a colossal ego you had. Since when is fighting against evil your exclusive mission.” She kicked out and tumbled Angel to the ground. “They chose this life. Probably more in spite of you than because of you, I’m guessing.” She pressed the back of her hand to the cut on her lip as she struggled to her feet. “Get over yourself. Or you really will get someone killed.” She limped back toward the hotel without looking back because if she did, she knew she would only be tempted to hold the wounded vampire in a desperate attempt to take away the pain they all saw him drowning in, and hugging? Just not something that they did.


********************


The consensus not to exorcise Dennis marked the only moment of agreement for the next hour as the remaining team debated what to do. Finally, Spike put an end to the discussion.

“Right then. Illyria, you and me are with Mr. Green Jeans here. We’ll check out the flat and see what’s going on with this Dennis bloke. You two,” he pointed at Xander and Dawn, “stay here. Tell Captain Forehead whatever ya want to, but keep him from comin’ after us. Last thing we need is that Neanderthal git buggerin’ up things with his bloody minded determination to get rid of whatever he doesn’t wanna face.”

Dawn glanced nervously at Xander. “Um, Spike. Not that I disagree or anything, but I’m not so sure that Xander should stay behind.”

“Not a problem,” Xander announced. He walked across the lobby to pick up his bag. “On my way out, remember?”

“Not bloody likely.” Spike snorted.

“It’s just that,” Dawn continued, “if Angel can’t go kick Dennis’s ass to work off today’s brood-fest, who do you think he’s gonna take it out on?”

And with that bit of logic, Xander found himself bundled into the back of Spike’s latest De Soto staying as far away from Illyria as possible in the enclosed space, hoping that it would prevent conversation. Like he could count on that kind of luck.

“You have brought much strife. Yet the mystic child seems to believe you have great importance.”

“Uh, yeah, Dawn’s weird that way.” Xander muttered, staring out the window at passing traffic. He checked his seatbelt once more as Spike screeched around yet another corner.

“Such weakness should not be coddled”

“No one’s asking to be coddled, here.”

Lorne quietly offered directions to Dennis’s apartment, trying to ignore the conversation floating from the backseat. He took in Spike’s clenched jaw and offered up a prayer that bringing the fragmented team of warriors into this case hadn’t set them up for more hurt than help.

“You would have your grief destroy you.”

Xander refused to glance back at the strange blue eyes he felt boring into the back of his head.

“Your human world protects the very fragility that will bring it to ruin.”

Spike snarked from the front seat, “Yeah, well we’re here and your kind’s buried, so I’m thinking you should just shut it, Blue.”

Silence fell over the foursome.

Xander brooded in the wake of Spike’s intervention. When did his life get this out of control? No longer under just house-arrest, it seemed that he might as well be hand-cuffed to Spike. Not that that image was an entirely bad one. No! No bad thoughts of bondage with Spike. He shuddered and turned his attention to hanging on to the seat as Spike careened through the city.