Terror Aboard the Persephone! (part 1)
Jun. 11th, 2009 06:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girlpirei can't believe i'm finally ready to start posting this. *is anxious* i figure i'll post one part every day around 7am EST until all the parts are up. sound fair? it's pretty long, so it'll take several days to get it all posted. i don't mind if you want to wait until after the whole thing's posted to read it, but i think it'll probably be easier to read it in chunks like this.
i started writing this over a year ago (some of you may remember) and even though i'm supernervous about finally letting go of it, i'm kind of proud that i actually finished. it's extremely plotty. in fact, that's all there is. plot. it's plottier than anything i've ever written, which is sort of the point, i guess. it's a comedy of errors, meaning that there are loads of characters and at least five costume changes and people get mistaken for other people, but the fact that it's called a comedy doesn't necessarily mean it's funny, just that it's not tragic. mostly, i just think it's kind of neat because of the way everything works together.
every single plot point in this story depends very heavily on everything else, so that each scene is absolutely essential to the entire arc - even if it looks at first glance like it might not be that important. which means you kinda have to pay attention. which is one reason you might want to wait and read it all in one sitting, although it would have to be a very long sitting.
GAH! let me just post already. and the first couple of parts are all just set-up, getting the characters all in the same place so the story can actually happen, meaning that they're kind of boring but necessary. it gets funnier/more interesting as it goes. and you'll have to forgive my shameless use of wesley for exposition.
Title: Terror Aboard the Persephone! (Part One)
Author: girlpire
Rating: PG-13 (or FRT)
Warnings: None in this part. Later, there's nudity with the intention of [het] sex, although it doesn't get graphic. (It's probably not much worse than you'd see on the show, but there's the matter of Spike's bum and a couple of uses of the eff word.)
Characters: Angel, Spike, Gunn, Connor, Wesley, Xander, Riley, and Kate, plus more OC's than you will probably be comfortable with.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please do not archive this story anywhere.
Summary: A series of highly improbable coincidences aboard a cruise ship makes stopping this particular apocalypse a bit more complicated than usual for the fang gang.
Author's Notes: This story takes place at some ambiguous point during season five of AtS. Spike is solid, Connor doesn't know who Angel is, and Xander is both-eyed and didn't participate in the BtVS comics. The entire fic spans the course of about five hours.
***
Terror Aboard the Persephone!
Part One
***
Welcome to Handbasket Cruises, voted "Dimension's Best Cruise Line" by Evil Leisure for twelve consecutive years. Throughout your stay with us, enjoy five-star gourmet dining, a full-service spa, exhilarating shore excursions, Las Vegas-style gaming, and world-class onboard entertainment! Owned and operated by Wolfram and Hart, Handbasket Cruises is committed to delivering stellar personal service to each and every passenger on one of our four beautiful cruise liners - Alecto, Megaera, Tisiphone, and Persephone.
Besides numerous Poker tables, your ship's casino deck sports over 350 of the latest slot-based games and at least 12 Blackjack tables, 4 Craps tables, 3 American Roulette wheels, and 4 of the increasingly popular Bun'jahff-Siltrammmmmy living pyramids. If gaming isn't your style, relax in one of two heated swimming pools, have a shiatsu massage, or come shake your literal or metaphorical tail feather in Tartarus, the hottest dance club on the open sea!
For your comfort, each stateroom features a luxurious Tranquility Bed (TM) as well as an all purpose tuck-away altar for those on-the-go ritual sacrifices that just can't wait. Forgot your ceremonial dagger? No problem! These types of items and many others are available for purchase from our tasteful yet affordable souvenir and gift shop.
Whatever your destination, Handbasket Cruises will get you there with class. Remember, you can always go to heaven for the climate, but if you're looking for great company and a whole lot of fun, nothing beats where you're headed on a Handbasket cruise!
***
Gunn tucked the contract safely back in its manila folder and then stacked the folder with the other three, bouncing the edges twice on the table to situate their contents. He placed these on top of his black three-ring binder and tucked his pen into his shirt pocket before pushing his chair back from the conference table. It had been a long week at Wolfram and Hart, but the last meeting of the day was over now, and he was eager to go home and chill for an hour or so before that thing he had to do tonight.
Angel was still sitting at the table looking down at the spot he'd been looking at when the client left the room. Wesley was also still sitting there gathering his own papers and things, which had been significantly more spread out than Gunn's. Gunn waited. He needed to talk to Wes once more before the thing started tonight, just to make sure he had the plan straight in his head. The whole thing was a last-minute deal; he hadn't even been planning to go until Wesley roped him into it yesterday. They'd go over it again as soon as Angel left.
"So," Angel finally said, looking up. "You guys have any plans this weekend?"
Wesley paused in his straightenings, one hand hovering over a folder, holding a sheet of paper. He glanced over at Gunn.
Gunn didn't hesitate. "I have a case to work on - that corporate embezzlement thing," he lied easily. “I’ll be tied up with that until Monday, at least.”
Wesley nodded and let the paper drop onto his stack of folders. "I've got some research to do," he said, picking up the lie. He didn't need to elaborate; Angel never asked what he was researching. "And I'd like to catch up on some much-needed rest. Why do you ask?"
Angel shrugged, looking back down at the table again. "No reason, I guess."
"What about you?" asked Gunn. "Anything going on this weekend? Hot date maybe?"
"I had a thing. It got cancelled." Angel picked up his pen from the table and began turning it over in his hands. "So... you're going to be busy then?" he clarified, still not looking at them. "Both of you?"
"Sorry, man," said Gunn. He exchanged another look with Wesley and gave a small shrug.
"No, it's okay; I was just..." Angel set the pen down and sighed. "I thought we could, you know, hang out or something. Be social. Maybe go somewhere." He glanced at the two of them to gauge their reactions. "Somewhere with people."
Gunn raised his eyebrows. "You feeling okay?" he asked.
The vampire shrugged. "I just feel like I've been pretty antisocial lately. All I ever do is work or sleep."
"That's all any of us have time to do these days," said Wesley.
"I just need a change of pace," Angel explained. "Something different. If I have to stay in this building any longer, I may start eating people again." Off his friends' startled looks, he quickly added, "Not really. But. You know. Something."
"I understand," Wesley told him. "I'm very sorry, Angel; I wish we could help." He looked at Gunn. "Maybe next weekend, we could all go somewhere...?"
Gunn frowned. He really did have plans for the next weekend. "Business trip. Leaving Thursday, gone through Monday. But the next weekend...?"
"The Californian Sorcerers' Summit," said Wesley. "But the weekend after that..."
"Hey, don't worry about it," Angel cut in. "We've all got... things. Important things. It doesn't really matter." He pushed back his chair and stood up, and the other two men followed suit. "Anyway, it's after five already; let's get out of here. We'll catch up some other time."
"Sure, man," Gunn said, and at the same time Wesley said, "Of course." Angel gave them a brief, half-hearted smile before turning to leave, his shoulders slightly hunched. They watched him walk out.
As soon as Angel was gone, Gunn sighed. "I just don't feel right about this, Wes."
Wesley turned to him. "Are you referring to stopping an apocalypse, or lying to Angel?"
"Lying to Angel about stopping an apocalypse," Gunn said. "Apocalypses are like his thing. Feels sorta wrong to do it without him. You know he'd want in on it."
"I doubt that's what he meant by wanting to be social," replied Wesley. "Besides, Angel has been under a lot of pressure lately. You yourself heard him threaten to eat someone if he has to deal with any more Wolfram and Hart business."
"He wasn't serious."
"Still. Angel deserves a holiday. And this situation can be easily diffused without him. We're doing him a favor."
"If you say so," said Gunn.
"Trust me. He'll thank us later."
Gunn tried to picture that. He couldn't. "I guess everything's ready for tonight, then?" he asked.
Wesley nodded. "I talked to Captain Griffin an hour ago. He said work on the Persephone is nearly complete."
"What do you mean nearly?" Gunn frowned. "We're supposed to leave at seven, aren't we?"
"Well, yes, but there have been some delays with the interior reconstruction since Persephone's most recent voyage. Apparently, it takes longer than one would think to repair the damage caused by a wounded Blunnik. I understand that there is still a crew on board reinstalling the intercom system and painting one of the ballrooms."
"Great. If I didn't already have a bad feeling about this, I'd have one now."
"Don't worry, Charles, it's perfectly safe. No Blunniks were approved for tonight's cruise. And won't be for quite some time, I should think, considering the expense. Did you know their blood actually melts wood?"
Gunn grimaced.
The boat they were using tonight for the auction was actually some big cruise liner owned by Wolfram and Hart. There had been an unfortunate incident on its latest cruise to Acapulco, which resulted in the ship's needing some extensive renovation before its next extended cruise, but while the work was being done, it was a good place to host parties and five-hour weekend cruises to international waters for gambling. And Wolfram and Hart had taken the opportunity to schedule an upscale auction on Persephone for tonight.
“Just tell me exactly what I’m supposed to be doing again,” said Gunn.
“You get on the boat,” said Wesley. “You oversee the auction in the main ballroom. You make sure the Hermaion doesn’t fall into the hands of the Phlegethonites. And then you come home." He shrugged. "It’s that simple.”
“Uh-huh,” said Gunn skeptically. “And the Herma-thing is a... necklace?”
“It’s a jewel. A very powerful, blue gemstone that can be used in many dark rituals, but only by the Phlegethonites, and only until midnight tonight. After tonight, it will be completely useless.”
“Except as a necklace.”
“Except as a necklace. It’s in a very pretty setting, I’m told. With diamonds. Supposedly, it was a gift to the Queen of Hell from one of the gods with whom she was having an affair.”
“Right. And these Fleggy-guys? They’re the ones with the hair?”
“Yes, the Phlegethonites have bright blue streaks in their hair. Also, the males emit a rather pleasant citrus-y smell. But they otherwise look human.”
“Blue hair, and they smell like oranges,” Gunn clarified.
“Lemons, actually. And they consume dead human flesh, but I understand that’s nothing to be concerned about.”
Gunn gave Wesley a look. "Dead human flesh," he repeated blankly.
"Yes," said Wesley.
"And that's nothing to be concerned about."
"That's correct," said Wesley.
Gunn continued to stare at his friend.
"Is something wrong?" asked Wesley.
"I'm just waiting for your skinny ass to tell me why I shouldn't be concerned about that," said Gunn.
"Oh, the Phlegethonites won't eat you," Wesley assured him. "They're scavengers. They feast on the flesh of the dead and pay very little attention to the living. Being alive, I'm afraid they would find you to be much too fresh for their liking. In fact, the older a corpse is, the more, er... tasty it is to them."
Gunn mentally shuddered at the use of the words "corpse" and "tasty" in the same sentence. Changing the subject, he asked, “And if these dudes win the bidding on the Hermy... thing? What then?”
“You mustn’t let them bid,” Wesley said. “The Persephone has excellent security, so there shouldn’t even be any Phlegethonites on the boat. But if any of them manage to sneak aboard, they must be stopped before bidding on the Hermaion begins.”
Gunn nodded. “Right,” he said. Then he asked, “And why are we auctioning off demon bling again?”
Wesley sighed. “It’s a perfectly harmless necklace,” he said. “Except for tonight. If the Phlegethonites have it.” Off Gunn’s look, he added, “And I didn’t know until yesterday that it had been spewed forth from Hell.”
“Right.”
“It's too late to withdraw the necklace from the auction. Wolfram and Hart’s most prominent clients will be there, and if for some reason the Hermaion doesn’t show up tonight, the firm will lose face.”
“As opposed to actually losing our faces, which is a risk if the blue-haired guys get it.”
Wesley smiled. “I feel confident that you won’t allow that to happen,” he said. “But as an extra precaution, on top of the regular Persephone security, I’ve contacted an agency that specializes in secret ops. They’re sending a man to make sure the whole thing goes smoothly. His identity is to remain classified, but I do know that he will be undercover as a card dealer in one of the game rooms.”
“Game rooms?”
“Yes, the Persephone has an entire casino deck. There will be gambling and slots in the game rooms as soon as the ship enters international waters. That’s about three miles from shore. The ballroom where the auction will be is also on the casino deck, but there shouldn't be any conflict. It's a very large ship.”
“Okay, so... long story short: in order to save the world, I'm playing keep-away with an evil necklace and a bunch of blue-haired, lemony-smelling, corpse-eating demons on a casino cruise boat that's under construction and full of our best clients while being supervised by a special agent card dealer?”
Wesley looked thoughtful. “That about sums it up, yes.”
“And why aren't we telling Angel, again?"
"Charles--"
"Yeah, I know, I know." He sighed. "Is there anything else you should tell me before I get there?"
“Nothing comes to mind," Wesley said - a little too quickly. "Just remember to wear your wire. I’ll be on the other end of it if you have any questions once you disembark.”
“I have a question already,” said Gunn. “Why aren’t you coming on the hellboat with me?”
Wesley looked slightly abashed. “I get seasick,” he said.
***
Spike sauntered out of the lift and into Angel's penthouse, uninvited as usual. The poof was standing at the window watching the sunset, brooding so hard Spike could practically hear him. He didn't turn around as Spike came over to him, put out one hand, palm up, and said simply, “Money.”
Angel continued to look out the window. “No,” he said.
Spike’s hand didn’t waver. “Need at least $200. But three would be nice.”
“No,” said Angel.
“Alright, four,” said Spike. “But I want you to know, you drive a hard bargain.”
Angel turned to glare at him. “I’m not giving you any money, Spike.”
“Course you are,” Spike replied. “No use putting up a fight.” His hand was still out. “Come on, then; I don’t have all night. Got places to go.”
Angel hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Where?”
“Where what?”
“Where are you going? With my money?” He was already reaching for his wallet.
“Right, like I’m telling you,” said Spike. He took Angel’s wallet himself and pulled some bills from it, not bothering to count how much he took. Angel watched, frowning.
“Tell me that's not for a prostitute,” said Angel.
Spike snorted. “Some of us don't need to pay for it, Peaches," he said, folding the money and stuffing it into one of his duster pockets. "Some of us have our natural charms."
"Some of us do," Angel agreed, taking his wallet back. "But I was talking about you."
Spike rolled his eyes and turned to leave.
"No really, where are you going?" Angel asked the back of his head.
Spike paused. When he turned back around, Angel was looking at him with a genuinely interested expression, like he really did want to know where Spike was headed. It was a little disconcerting. Spike almost got the impression that Angel wanted to come along with him, but decided immediately that he was mistaken. The ponce was just being nosy.
"I'm going to buy enough JD to get really stupid, then pop down to Beverly Hills for a quickie with Paris Hilton before beginning an epic road trip to Tijuana to find myself," he said. "Was gonna ask you along, but Paris doesn't like cavepeople, see, and--"
"Don't let the elevator hit your ass," Angel interrupted, his shoulders slumping as he turned back to the window.
Spike didn't.
As he left Angel's suite, he went over his mental checklist for the night. Duster - check. Stunning good looks - check. Natural charm - check. And now that he had the money he'd come for, he was ready. He briefly wondered if he'd need anything else to get on the boat, but quickly dismissed the question. The money was the important thing. Couldn't very well go on a five-hour casino cruise without money. Tonight, he was going to have some fun.
Once downstairs, Spike decided to take the Viper. He had some time to kill before the Persephone was scheduled to leave, and a joyride in Angel's favorite car was always a welcome way to pass the time. He just needed to be down at the port by seven.
***
Connor drove his friend Jessica to the L.A. Harbor in his mom’s Buick. Since Jess was a member of the ship's live entertainment staff, she was supposed to be there a full hour before the boat left the port, but they were a little early, so they sat in the Buick talking. Jessica was trying to convince him to come on the cruise.
“Don’t you think it would be, I don’t know, awkward?” he asked. “I mean, what if she’s here?”
“You really think she would still come?” asked Jessica. “That would be so tacky.”
“I don’t know. I did give her the other boarding pass.”
“Yeah, right before she dumped you. There’s no way she’d still come.”
Connor’s ex, who happened to be more than ten years older than he was, had only found out Connor’s actual age about a week beforehand. She’d promptly broken up with him, which pretty much sucked, considering that he’d planned his entire Spring Break around her schedule and now she refused to so much as talk to him. He’d thought they’d be able to work through it, but, after getting over her initial shock, she’d flown into a rage because they’d had sex and he hadn’t even turned twenty yet.
“Anyway, they check ID’s as you get on the boat,” he said. “You have to be 21.”
“Well, how were you planning on coming in the first place?” Jessica asked him. She had been able to get him the passes for free since she was part of the staff, even though she wasn’t quite 21 yet either.
“Well, I was going to use my fake. But...”
“So use it. What’s stopping you?”
“I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be awkward?”
“There’s no way she’ll be here.”
“She has the other pass.”
“You’re such a pansy,” said Jessica. She had a hand over her stomach, grimacing.
“Is something wrong?” Connor asked. “You’re looking kind of...”
“Nah, I just had a bad burrito earlier. Plus nerves. It’s nothing. I always get nervous before we perform.” Then she reached over and poked his shoulder. “You gotta come. You gotta see me dance,” she said.
“What are you, again? Some kind of demon?”
“I’m Persephone, the princess of Hell. But, like, with sequins. No, seriously.”
He was trying not to laugh.
She shoved him. “Shut up. It’s this beautiful love story.”
“A beautiful love story,” he repeated, smiling. “In Hell.”
“You say that like it’s not believable or something.”
“Hell with sequins? What’s not believable about that?”
“It’s a torrid love affair among the gods. You’d like it. Hermes and Hades get into this huge fight over me. It’s all epic and stuff.”
“It totally sounds like something I’d love,” he agreed solemnly. A little too solemnly.
She rolled her eyes. “You’d love it cause I’m in it,” she said. Then she frowned. “As long as my stomach doesn’t get too dramatic on me.”
“You’ll be fine,” said Connor.
Jessica glanced at her watch. “Okay, I gotta go. You’ll be there tonight?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think. Just come.”
“Maybe,” he said.
“Then I’ll see you later,” Jessica told him as she climbed out of the car. She leaned back down to look at him before she shut the door. “The boat leaves in an hour. Be on it.”
***
Riley Finn straightened his burgundy-colored vest in the Persephone locker room mirror. There was no doubt about it, he looked like a complete chump. Whoever got him assigned to this mission was so asking for it; retribution would be swift and painful. He sighed. Where had he put his bowtie?
After ransacking his locker twice, Riley gave up on the bowtie and just hoped the casino management wouldn't notice he wasn't wearing it. He felt sure the players wouldn't care anyway, and as long as they were happily wasting money on cards, his temporary employers shouldn't care either. He glanced around. The other dealers were finishing up putting on their uniforms too, and how stupid was it that they had to change here instead of taking the uniforms home with them? Not that he cared. This was going to be his only trip on the Persephone, and he was already looking forward to forgetting this entire mission when he was done with it. The whole thing was just utterly ridiculous.
His objective was to make sure one of the auction necklaces didn't fall into the hands of any blue-haired demons that smelled lemony. That, in itself, made sense. There was some sort of ritual they could perform with it that needed to be stopped. What didn't make sense to him was that the necklace was being auctioned off in the first place on the one day it could be used to open the gates of Hell. Really! Who was that stupid? And now, in order to save the world, he had to wear a cheesy uniform that made him look like a bellhop and would probably make the other guys tease him mercilessly if they knew.
Riley backed into an inconspicuous corner where no one could see him and raised his wristwatch close to his lips. "Lilac to Blackbird. I'm in place," he murmured to it. "Are the toys on board? Over."
A tiny voice crackled in his ear. "Copy that, Lilac. The toys are in position. Over."
Well, at least something was going right. Riley slipped out of the locker room and went up the stairs to the first deck. He found the black duffle bag in a hidden compartment beneath the deck floor, right where he'd expected it. After making sure no one was around, he unzipped the bag and looked inside. The toys were there, alright. Two handguns with extra clips, a flashlight, a lockpick toolkit, repelling rope, some other flashy gadgets, and a giant chemical-blaster, the kind that would kill a Phlegethonite in seconds without disturbing anything or anyone around it.
Also in the duffle, he found a black bowtie with a handwritten note from Sam: "Forget something, Finn?"
Riley smiled to himself as he fastened the tie around his neck. Then he murmured to his watch, "Lilac to Blackbird. Real cute. Over."
"Copy that, Lilac. You want my body. Over," Sam replied.
Riley rolled his eyes. He zipped the duffle and swung it carefully over his shoulder, then made his way with the toys back down to the casino deck to get set up.
***
Xander Harris was up to his elbows in wires. "Try it now," he said.
"Nothing, boss," said Juan.
Xander gritted his teeth. "And it's turned all the way up?" he asked.
"All the way," said Juan.
"The volume is up all the way?" asked Xander.
"All the way," said Juan. "I turn it up to eleven."
Nothing. The intercom system aboard the Persephone was completely silent. Xander fiddled with some more wires. "Try it now," he said.
"I never stop trying," said Juan. "Still it is all the way up. But nothing, boss. Nada."
"What station do you have it on?" asked Xander.
"Channel Nine news," said Juan. "But I am hearing nothing."
Xander untangled his arms from the wires and stepped back with a sigh. "No news is bad news," he told Juan.
Persephone's complicated intercom system was connected to every room, so that announcements could be heard throughout the ship. Some kind of accident during the last cruise had rendered the system unusable, and Xander had just finished replacing the broken parts, but when they hooked it up to Juan's wireless radio to test it out, it still wasn't working at all. Xander double checked to make sure the volume was up. It was. Channel Nine news should have been broadcasting loudly in every room on board, but there was complete silence. Had to be a short in one of the wires, but God only knew which one.
Xander glanced at his watch. "We're never going to be finished by seven," he said.
Juan shrugged. "I am hearing nothing. But we got to get off the boat, boss. She will leave with us still inside."
Xander nodded. "There's nothing else we can do at this point," he sighed. "At least, not with this mess." He indicated the wires still hanging out of the wall. "Good thing they're not planning to use these two rooms tonight." Some of Xander's crew were still in the ballroom next door, putting up a final coat of paint. "Let's see if we can help the guys finish the paint job before we leave, alright? It shouldn't take too long, and we've still got..." Xander checked his watch again. "Forty-five minutes before the boat leaves."
"Okay, boss," said Juan. "But we got to hurry."
When they entered the ballroom next door, Xander was disappointed to see that the final coat of bright blue paint had only been applied to two walls and part of the ceiling. The men were working diligently, but they were short-handed, and they had been running behind since Monday. Part of the problem was that the firm that owned the boat had wanted the ceilings painted as well, but the ceilings here were much too high to try to paint with extended rollers, and in order to reach them the men had to work on a dangerous network of scaffolding, which took even more time to load on the boat and set up for use. Xander noticed that two of the men were actually balancing their paint trays on the blades of the ceiling fans, and just as he was opening his mouth to tell them how unprofessional that was, one of the trays fell from a fan directly onto Xander's head before clattering to the floor, paint sloshing everywhere.
"Sorry, boss!" one of the men called.
Okay, that kind of hurt. Xander was wiping paint off of his face when he noticed the time on his watch again. "Crap," he muttered. "We're never going to be finished by seven."
***
A few minutes after Spike had left his penthouse, Angel left as well. The original plan for the night had been dinner with Nina, followed by some awkward conversation and possibly falling asleep together on her couch, but she'd called that morning and had to cancel. He wasn't exactly disappointed, or he was but not because he was eager to see her. He just wanted to have a reason to get away from this damned building. He hated it here, needed to see something other than grey walls for a change. And he wouldn't mind the company... but failing that, he could really go for killing something. Something big.
He took his old Plymouth, but he didn't have a particular destination in mind. Spike, he noticed, had taken the Viper. Probably just to irritate him. Which it did. But mostly he was just feeling restless. There hadn't been any reports of demon activity that he knew of, so he figured he'd just do the whole patrolling thing and try to find a good fight to fight. Somewhere away from Wolfram and Hart. So he just picked a direction and started driving.
He ended up in San Pedro, about twenty miles south of downtown. He'd driven it with the top down, smelling the ocean. Now he was standing on top of one of the World Cruise Center buildings at the L.A. Harbor, watching the boat lights and the soft roll of the Pacific. It was pretty, but that's not what he was there for. There was usually something evil going down in the Bay area. Sea monsters. Your kid sinking you to the bottom of the ocean. Something. He waited.
There were people around, talking. He eavesdropped on them, found it sort of amusing that they would never know. He was listening to a couple of old ladies arguing about whether nickel or quarter slots were luckier when he, for some reason, began to smell lemons. It was faint, but his vampire senses picked it up from several feet away. Kind of a pleasant smell. He wouldn't have paid much attention, except that he heard a few strangely raspy voices accompanying it. He looked down over the edge of the roof at the smallish group of people gathered there. The smell was coming from them.
Only, Angel noticed as he got a better whiff, they didn't smell human. They were clearly soulless, and their blood smelled... citrus-y. Acidic, even. Also, their hair was streaked with blue and as they talked, even from high above them, Angel could see how pointed their teeth were. Definitely demon, or at least some kind of demon/human hybrid, like he was. And, as if that weren't enough, they were discussing a ritual that would call forth the queen of Hell to reign over Earth for a thousand years.
Okay, Angel thought. Looks like I've found myself a fight.
He contemplated the best way to approach them. He could just drop down in their midst and start throwing punches, but there were 12 of them and he didn't know whether or not they were good fighters, having never encountered their kind before. While he was thinking about the best way to handle the situation, four of the demons put on white hats and split off from the group with a hissed promise to meet up later. Crap. Angel didn't know which group to go after. He decided to stay with the remaining eight, since it appeared that their leader was among this group and the others would be returning shortly. Then the eight began to move off as well.
Angel dropped silently from the roof and began to follow them at a distance. He kept them in sight, although he really didn't need to, since their peculiar scent rendered them easily trackable. He could still hear them talking under their breath, the words necklace, Persephone, midnight, and queen repeated many times. Also, something that sounded like "her-MY-un." He gathered that they needed to steal a necklace from a boat, and he figured that's where they were headed. As they crossed a parking lot in the direction of the ships, Angel noticed that they passed by a Viper that was identical to his own. Hell of a car, really. Everybody ought to have one.
The blue-haired, human-looking, lemon-scented demons were nearing the ramp for a ship called Persephone. Angel could see passengers starting to board already, and among them were the four demons wearing hats. The remaining eight bypassed the boarding area. Angel followed them a little further down the marina, where they began dropping one by one into the water. By the time Angel reached the place where they had jumped, he could just barely make out the shapes of eight blue heads moving through the water toward the Persephone. When the first demon got there, it began scaling the side of the ship.
Great, Angel thought. Stowaways.
With a resigned sigh, Angel dropped into the water as well and began swimming.
***
Continued in [Part 2].
***
i started writing this over a year ago (some of you may remember) and even though i'm supernervous about finally letting go of it, i'm kind of proud that i actually finished. it's extremely plotty. in fact, that's all there is. plot. it's plottier than anything i've ever written, which is sort of the point, i guess. it's a comedy of errors, meaning that there are loads of characters and at least five costume changes and people get mistaken for other people, but the fact that it's called a comedy doesn't necessarily mean it's funny, just that it's not tragic. mostly, i just think it's kind of neat because of the way everything works together.
every single plot point in this story depends very heavily on everything else, so that each scene is absolutely essential to the entire arc - even if it looks at first glance like it might not be that important. which means you kinda have to pay attention. which is one reason you might want to wait and read it all in one sitting, although it would have to be a very long sitting.
GAH! let me just post already. and the first couple of parts are all just set-up, getting the characters all in the same place so the story can actually happen, meaning that they're kind of boring but necessary. it gets funnier/more interesting as it goes. and you'll have to forgive my shameless use of wesley for exposition.
Title: Terror Aboard the Persephone! (Part One)
Author: girlpire
Rating: PG-13 (or FRT)
Warnings: None in this part. Later, there's nudity with the intention of [het] sex, although it doesn't get graphic. (It's probably not much worse than you'd see on the show, but there's the matter of Spike's bum and a couple of uses of the eff word.)
Characters: Angel, Spike, Gunn, Connor, Wesley, Xander, Riley, and Kate, plus more OC's than you will probably be comfortable with.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please do not archive this story anywhere.
Summary: A series of highly improbable coincidences aboard a cruise ship makes stopping this particular apocalypse a bit more complicated than usual for the fang gang.
Author's Notes: This story takes place at some ambiguous point during season five of AtS. Spike is solid, Connor doesn't know who Angel is, and Xander is both-eyed and didn't participate in the BtVS comics. The entire fic spans the course of about five hours.
***
Terror Aboard the Persephone!
Part One
***
Welcome to Handbasket Cruises, voted "Dimension's Best Cruise Line" by Evil Leisure for twelve consecutive years. Throughout your stay with us, enjoy five-star gourmet dining, a full-service spa, exhilarating shore excursions, Las Vegas-style gaming, and world-class onboard entertainment! Owned and operated by Wolfram and Hart, Handbasket Cruises is committed to delivering stellar personal service to each and every passenger on one of our four beautiful cruise liners - Alecto, Megaera, Tisiphone, and Persephone.
Besides numerous Poker tables, your ship's casino deck sports over 350 of the latest slot-based games and at least 12 Blackjack tables, 4 Craps tables, 3 American Roulette wheels, and 4 of the increasingly popular Bun'jahff-Siltrammmmmy living pyramids. If gaming isn't your style, relax in one of two heated swimming pools, have a shiatsu massage, or come shake your literal or metaphorical tail feather in Tartarus, the hottest dance club on the open sea!
For your comfort, each stateroom features a luxurious Tranquility Bed (TM) as well as an all purpose tuck-away altar for those on-the-go ritual sacrifices that just can't wait. Forgot your ceremonial dagger? No problem! These types of items and many others are available for purchase from our tasteful yet affordable souvenir and gift shop.
Whatever your destination, Handbasket Cruises will get you there with class. Remember, you can always go to heaven for the climate, but if you're looking for great company and a whole lot of fun, nothing beats where you're headed on a Handbasket cruise!
***
Gunn tucked the contract safely back in its manila folder and then stacked the folder with the other three, bouncing the edges twice on the table to situate their contents. He placed these on top of his black three-ring binder and tucked his pen into his shirt pocket before pushing his chair back from the conference table. It had been a long week at Wolfram and Hart, but the last meeting of the day was over now, and he was eager to go home and chill for an hour or so before that thing he had to do tonight.
Angel was still sitting at the table looking down at the spot he'd been looking at when the client left the room. Wesley was also still sitting there gathering his own papers and things, which had been significantly more spread out than Gunn's. Gunn waited. He needed to talk to Wes once more before the thing started tonight, just to make sure he had the plan straight in his head. The whole thing was a last-minute deal; he hadn't even been planning to go until Wesley roped him into it yesterday. They'd go over it again as soon as Angel left.
"So," Angel finally said, looking up. "You guys have any plans this weekend?"
Wesley paused in his straightenings, one hand hovering over a folder, holding a sheet of paper. He glanced over at Gunn.
Gunn didn't hesitate. "I have a case to work on - that corporate embezzlement thing," he lied easily. “I’ll be tied up with that until Monday, at least.”
Wesley nodded and let the paper drop onto his stack of folders. "I've got some research to do," he said, picking up the lie. He didn't need to elaborate; Angel never asked what he was researching. "And I'd like to catch up on some much-needed rest. Why do you ask?"
Angel shrugged, looking back down at the table again. "No reason, I guess."
"What about you?" asked Gunn. "Anything going on this weekend? Hot date maybe?"
"I had a thing. It got cancelled." Angel picked up his pen from the table and began turning it over in his hands. "So... you're going to be busy then?" he clarified, still not looking at them. "Both of you?"
"Sorry, man," said Gunn. He exchanged another look with Wesley and gave a small shrug.
"No, it's okay; I was just..." Angel set the pen down and sighed. "I thought we could, you know, hang out or something. Be social. Maybe go somewhere." He glanced at the two of them to gauge their reactions. "Somewhere with people."
Gunn raised his eyebrows. "You feeling okay?" he asked.
The vampire shrugged. "I just feel like I've been pretty antisocial lately. All I ever do is work or sleep."
"That's all any of us have time to do these days," said Wesley.
"I just need a change of pace," Angel explained. "Something different. If I have to stay in this building any longer, I may start eating people again." Off his friends' startled looks, he quickly added, "Not really. But. You know. Something."
"I understand," Wesley told him. "I'm very sorry, Angel; I wish we could help." He looked at Gunn. "Maybe next weekend, we could all go somewhere...?"
Gunn frowned. He really did have plans for the next weekend. "Business trip. Leaving Thursday, gone through Monday. But the next weekend...?"
"The Californian Sorcerers' Summit," said Wesley. "But the weekend after that..."
"Hey, don't worry about it," Angel cut in. "We've all got... things. Important things. It doesn't really matter." He pushed back his chair and stood up, and the other two men followed suit. "Anyway, it's after five already; let's get out of here. We'll catch up some other time."
"Sure, man," Gunn said, and at the same time Wesley said, "Of course." Angel gave them a brief, half-hearted smile before turning to leave, his shoulders slightly hunched. They watched him walk out.
As soon as Angel was gone, Gunn sighed. "I just don't feel right about this, Wes."
Wesley turned to him. "Are you referring to stopping an apocalypse, or lying to Angel?"
"Lying to Angel about stopping an apocalypse," Gunn said. "Apocalypses are like his thing. Feels sorta wrong to do it without him. You know he'd want in on it."
"I doubt that's what he meant by wanting to be social," replied Wesley. "Besides, Angel has been under a lot of pressure lately. You yourself heard him threaten to eat someone if he has to deal with any more Wolfram and Hart business."
"He wasn't serious."
"Still. Angel deserves a holiday. And this situation can be easily diffused without him. We're doing him a favor."
"If you say so," said Gunn.
"Trust me. He'll thank us later."
Gunn tried to picture that. He couldn't. "I guess everything's ready for tonight, then?" he asked.
Wesley nodded. "I talked to Captain Griffin an hour ago. He said work on the Persephone is nearly complete."
"What do you mean nearly?" Gunn frowned. "We're supposed to leave at seven, aren't we?"
"Well, yes, but there have been some delays with the interior reconstruction since Persephone's most recent voyage. Apparently, it takes longer than one would think to repair the damage caused by a wounded Blunnik. I understand that there is still a crew on board reinstalling the intercom system and painting one of the ballrooms."
"Great. If I didn't already have a bad feeling about this, I'd have one now."
"Don't worry, Charles, it's perfectly safe. No Blunniks were approved for tonight's cruise. And won't be for quite some time, I should think, considering the expense. Did you know their blood actually melts wood?"
Gunn grimaced.
The boat they were using tonight for the auction was actually some big cruise liner owned by Wolfram and Hart. There had been an unfortunate incident on its latest cruise to Acapulco, which resulted in the ship's needing some extensive renovation before its next extended cruise, but while the work was being done, it was a good place to host parties and five-hour weekend cruises to international waters for gambling. And Wolfram and Hart had taken the opportunity to schedule an upscale auction on Persephone for tonight.
“Just tell me exactly what I’m supposed to be doing again,” said Gunn.
“You get on the boat,” said Wesley. “You oversee the auction in the main ballroom. You make sure the Hermaion doesn’t fall into the hands of the Phlegethonites. And then you come home." He shrugged. "It’s that simple.”
“Uh-huh,” said Gunn skeptically. “And the Herma-thing is a... necklace?”
“It’s a jewel. A very powerful, blue gemstone that can be used in many dark rituals, but only by the Phlegethonites, and only until midnight tonight. After tonight, it will be completely useless.”
“Except as a necklace.”
“Except as a necklace. It’s in a very pretty setting, I’m told. With diamonds. Supposedly, it was a gift to the Queen of Hell from one of the gods with whom she was having an affair.”
“Right. And these Fleggy-guys? They’re the ones with the hair?”
“Yes, the Phlegethonites have bright blue streaks in their hair. Also, the males emit a rather pleasant citrus-y smell. But they otherwise look human.”
“Blue hair, and they smell like oranges,” Gunn clarified.
“Lemons, actually. And they consume dead human flesh, but I understand that’s nothing to be concerned about.”
Gunn gave Wesley a look. "Dead human flesh," he repeated blankly.
"Yes," said Wesley.
"And that's nothing to be concerned about."
"That's correct," said Wesley.
Gunn continued to stare at his friend.
"Is something wrong?" asked Wesley.
"I'm just waiting for your skinny ass to tell me why I shouldn't be concerned about that," said Gunn.
"Oh, the Phlegethonites won't eat you," Wesley assured him. "They're scavengers. They feast on the flesh of the dead and pay very little attention to the living. Being alive, I'm afraid they would find you to be much too fresh for their liking. In fact, the older a corpse is, the more, er... tasty it is to them."
Gunn mentally shuddered at the use of the words "corpse" and "tasty" in the same sentence. Changing the subject, he asked, “And if these dudes win the bidding on the Hermy... thing? What then?”
“You mustn’t let them bid,” Wesley said. “The Persephone has excellent security, so there shouldn’t even be any Phlegethonites on the boat. But if any of them manage to sneak aboard, they must be stopped before bidding on the Hermaion begins.”
Gunn nodded. “Right,” he said. Then he asked, “And why are we auctioning off demon bling again?”
Wesley sighed. “It’s a perfectly harmless necklace,” he said. “Except for tonight. If the Phlegethonites have it.” Off Gunn’s look, he added, “And I didn’t know until yesterday that it had been spewed forth from Hell.”
“Right.”
“It's too late to withdraw the necklace from the auction. Wolfram and Hart’s most prominent clients will be there, and if for some reason the Hermaion doesn’t show up tonight, the firm will lose face.”
“As opposed to actually losing our faces, which is a risk if the blue-haired guys get it.”
Wesley smiled. “I feel confident that you won’t allow that to happen,” he said. “But as an extra precaution, on top of the regular Persephone security, I’ve contacted an agency that specializes in secret ops. They’re sending a man to make sure the whole thing goes smoothly. His identity is to remain classified, but I do know that he will be undercover as a card dealer in one of the game rooms.”
“Game rooms?”
“Yes, the Persephone has an entire casino deck. There will be gambling and slots in the game rooms as soon as the ship enters international waters. That’s about three miles from shore. The ballroom where the auction will be is also on the casino deck, but there shouldn't be any conflict. It's a very large ship.”
“Okay, so... long story short: in order to save the world, I'm playing keep-away with an evil necklace and a bunch of blue-haired, lemony-smelling, corpse-eating demons on a casino cruise boat that's under construction and full of our best clients while being supervised by a special agent card dealer?”
Wesley looked thoughtful. “That about sums it up, yes.”
“And why aren't we telling Angel, again?"
"Charles--"
"Yeah, I know, I know." He sighed. "Is there anything else you should tell me before I get there?"
“Nothing comes to mind," Wesley said - a little too quickly. "Just remember to wear your wire. I’ll be on the other end of it if you have any questions once you disembark.”
“I have a question already,” said Gunn. “Why aren’t you coming on the hellboat with me?”
Wesley looked slightly abashed. “I get seasick,” he said.
***
Spike sauntered out of the lift and into Angel's penthouse, uninvited as usual. The poof was standing at the window watching the sunset, brooding so hard Spike could practically hear him. He didn't turn around as Spike came over to him, put out one hand, palm up, and said simply, “Money.”
Angel continued to look out the window. “No,” he said.
Spike’s hand didn’t waver. “Need at least $200. But three would be nice.”
“No,” said Angel.
“Alright, four,” said Spike. “But I want you to know, you drive a hard bargain.”
Angel turned to glare at him. “I’m not giving you any money, Spike.”
“Course you are,” Spike replied. “No use putting up a fight.” His hand was still out. “Come on, then; I don’t have all night. Got places to go.”
Angel hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Where?”
“Where what?”
“Where are you going? With my money?” He was already reaching for his wallet.
“Right, like I’m telling you,” said Spike. He took Angel’s wallet himself and pulled some bills from it, not bothering to count how much he took. Angel watched, frowning.
“Tell me that's not for a prostitute,” said Angel.
Spike snorted. “Some of us don't need to pay for it, Peaches," he said, folding the money and stuffing it into one of his duster pockets. "Some of us have our natural charms."
"Some of us do," Angel agreed, taking his wallet back. "But I was talking about you."
Spike rolled his eyes and turned to leave.
"No really, where are you going?" Angel asked the back of his head.
Spike paused. When he turned back around, Angel was looking at him with a genuinely interested expression, like he really did want to know where Spike was headed. It was a little disconcerting. Spike almost got the impression that Angel wanted to come along with him, but decided immediately that he was mistaken. The ponce was just being nosy.
"I'm going to buy enough JD to get really stupid, then pop down to Beverly Hills for a quickie with Paris Hilton before beginning an epic road trip to Tijuana to find myself," he said. "Was gonna ask you along, but Paris doesn't like cavepeople, see, and--"
"Don't let the elevator hit your ass," Angel interrupted, his shoulders slumping as he turned back to the window.
Spike didn't.
As he left Angel's suite, he went over his mental checklist for the night. Duster - check. Stunning good looks - check. Natural charm - check. And now that he had the money he'd come for, he was ready. He briefly wondered if he'd need anything else to get on the boat, but quickly dismissed the question. The money was the important thing. Couldn't very well go on a five-hour casino cruise without money. Tonight, he was going to have some fun.
Once downstairs, Spike decided to take the Viper. He had some time to kill before the Persephone was scheduled to leave, and a joyride in Angel's favorite car was always a welcome way to pass the time. He just needed to be down at the port by seven.
***
Connor drove his friend Jessica to the L.A. Harbor in his mom’s Buick. Since Jess was a member of the ship's live entertainment staff, she was supposed to be there a full hour before the boat left the port, but they were a little early, so they sat in the Buick talking. Jessica was trying to convince him to come on the cruise.
“Don’t you think it would be, I don’t know, awkward?” he asked. “I mean, what if she’s here?”
“You really think she would still come?” asked Jessica. “That would be so tacky.”
“I don’t know. I did give her the other boarding pass.”
“Yeah, right before she dumped you. There’s no way she’d still come.”
Connor’s ex, who happened to be more than ten years older than he was, had only found out Connor’s actual age about a week beforehand. She’d promptly broken up with him, which pretty much sucked, considering that he’d planned his entire Spring Break around her schedule and now she refused to so much as talk to him. He’d thought they’d be able to work through it, but, after getting over her initial shock, she’d flown into a rage because they’d had sex and he hadn’t even turned twenty yet.
“Anyway, they check ID’s as you get on the boat,” he said. “You have to be 21.”
“Well, how were you planning on coming in the first place?” Jessica asked him. She had been able to get him the passes for free since she was part of the staff, even though she wasn’t quite 21 yet either.
“Well, I was going to use my fake. But...”
“So use it. What’s stopping you?”
“I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be awkward?”
“There’s no way she’ll be here.”
“She has the other pass.”
“You’re such a pansy,” said Jessica. She had a hand over her stomach, grimacing.
“Is something wrong?” Connor asked. “You’re looking kind of...”
“Nah, I just had a bad burrito earlier. Plus nerves. It’s nothing. I always get nervous before we perform.” Then she reached over and poked his shoulder. “You gotta come. You gotta see me dance,” she said.
“What are you, again? Some kind of demon?”
“I’m Persephone, the princess of Hell. But, like, with sequins. No, seriously.”
He was trying not to laugh.
She shoved him. “Shut up. It’s this beautiful love story.”
“A beautiful love story,” he repeated, smiling. “In Hell.”
“You say that like it’s not believable or something.”
“Hell with sequins? What’s not believable about that?”
“It’s a torrid love affair among the gods. You’d like it. Hermes and Hades get into this huge fight over me. It’s all epic and stuff.”
“It totally sounds like something I’d love,” he agreed solemnly. A little too solemnly.
She rolled her eyes. “You’d love it cause I’m in it,” she said. Then she frowned. “As long as my stomach doesn’t get too dramatic on me.”
“You’ll be fine,” said Connor.
Jessica glanced at her watch. “Okay, I gotta go. You’ll be there tonight?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think. Just come.”
“Maybe,” he said.
“Then I’ll see you later,” Jessica told him as she climbed out of the car. She leaned back down to look at him before she shut the door. “The boat leaves in an hour. Be on it.”
***
Riley Finn straightened his burgundy-colored vest in the Persephone locker room mirror. There was no doubt about it, he looked like a complete chump. Whoever got him assigned to this mission was so asking for it; retribution would be swift and painful. He sighed. Where had he put his bowtie?
After ransacking his locker twice, Riley gave up on the bowtie and just hoped the casino management wouldn't notice he wasn't wearing it. He felt sure the players wouldn't care anyway, and as long as they were happily wasting money on cards, his temporary employers shouldn't care either. He glanced around. The other dealers were finishing up putting on their uniforms too, and how stupid was it that they had to change here instead of taking the uniforms home with them? Not that he cared. This was going to be his only trip on the Persephone, and he was already looking forward to forgetting this entire mission when he was done with it. The whole thing was just utterly ridiculous.
His objective was to make sure one of the auction necklaces didn't fall into the hands of any blue-haired demons that smelled lemony. That, in itself, made sense. There was some sort of ritual they could perform with it that needed to be stopped. What didn't make sense to him was that the necklace was being auctioned off in the first place on the one day it could be used to open the gates of Hell. Really! Who was that stupid? And now, in order to save the world, he had to wear a cheesy uniform that made him look like a bellhop and would probably make the other guys tease him mercilessly if they knew.
Riley backed into an inconspicuous corner where no one could see him and raised his wristwatch close to his lips. "Lilac to Blackbird. I'm in place," he murmured to it. "Are the toys on board? Over."
A tiny voice crackled in his ear. "Copy that, Lilac. The toys are in position. Over."
Well, at least something was going right. Riley slipped out of the locker room and went up the stairs to the first deck. He found the black duffle bag in a hidden compartment beneath the deck floor, right where he'd expected it. After making sure no one was around, he unzipped the bag and looked inside. The toys were there, alright. Two handguns with extra clips, a flashlight, a lockpick toolkit, repelling rope, some other flashy gadgets, and a giant chemical-blaster, the kind that would kill a Phlegethonite in seconds without disturbing anything or anyone around it.
Also in the duffle, he found a black bowtie with a handwritten note from Sam: "Forget something, Finn?"
Riley smiled to himself as he fastened the tie around his neck. Then he murmured to his watch, "Lilac to Blackbird. Real cute. Over."
"Copy that, Lilac. You want my body. Over," Sam replied.
Riley rolled his eyes. He zipped the duffle and swung it carefully over his shoulder, then made his way with the toys back down to the casino deck to get set up.
***
Xander Harris was up to his elbows in wires. "Try it now," he said.
"Nothing, boss," said Juan.
Xander gritted his teeth. "And it's turned all the way up?" he asked.
"All the way," said Juan.
"The volume is up all the way?" asked Xander.
"All the way," said Juan. "I turn it up to eleven."
Nothing. The intercom system aboard the Persephone was completely silent. Xander fiddled with some more wires. "Try it now," he said.
"I never stop trying," said Juan. "Still it is all the way up. But nothing, boss. Nada."
"What station do you have it on?" asked Xander.
"Channel Nine news," said Juan. "But I am hearing nothing."
Xander untangled his arms from the wires and stepped back with a sigh. "No news is bad news," he told Juan.
Persephone's complicated intercom system was connected to every room, so that announcements could be heard throughout the ship. Some kind of accident during the last cruise had rendered the system unusable, and Xander had just finished replacing the broken parts, but when they hooked it up to Juan's wireless radio to test it out, it still wasn't working at all. Xander double checked to make sure the volume was up. It was. Channel Nine news should have been broadcasting loudly in every room on board, but there was complete silence. Had to be a short in one of the wires, but God only knew which one.
Xander glanced at his watch. "We're never going to be finished by seven," he said.
Juan shrugged. "I am hearing nothing. But we got to get off the boat, boss. She will leave with us still inside."
Xander nodded. "There's nothing else we can do at this point," he sighed. "At least, not with this mess." He indicated the wires still hanging out of the wall. "Good thing they're not planning to use these two rooms tonight." Some of Xander's crew were still in the ballroom next door, putting up a final coat of paint. "Let's see if we can help the guys finish the paint job before we leave, alright? It shouldn't take too long, and we've still got..." Xander checked his watch again. "Forty-five minutes before the boat leaves."
"Okay, boss," said Juan. "But we got to hurry."
When they entered the ballroom next door, Xander was disappointed to see that the final coat of bright blue paint had only been applied to two walls and part of the ceiling. The men were working diligently, but they were short-handed, and they had been running behind since Monday. Part of the problem was that the firm that owned the boat had wanted the ceilings painted as well, but the ceilings here were much too high to try to paint with extended rollers, and in order to reach them the men had to work on a dangerous network of scaffolding, which took even more time to load on the boat and set up for use. Xander noticed that two of the men were actually balancing their paint trays on the blades of the ceiling fans, and just as he was opening his mouth to tell them how unprofessional that was, one of the trays fell from a fan directly onto Xander's head before clattering to the floor, paint sloshing everywhere.
"Sorry, boss!" one of the men called.
Okay, that kind of hurt. Xander was wiping paint off of his face when he noticed the time on his watch again. "Crap," he muttered. "We're never going to be finished by seven."
***
A few minutes after Spike had left his penthouse, Angel left as well. The original plan for the night had been dinner with Nina, followed by some awkward conversation and possibly falling asleep together on her couch, but she'd called that morning and had to cancel. He wasn't exactly disappointed, or he was but not because he was eager to see her. He just wanted to have a reason to get away from this damned building. He hated it here, needed to see something other than grey walls for a change. And he wouldn't mind the company... but failing that, he could really go for killing something. Something big.
He took his old Plymouth, but he didn't have a particular destination in mind. Spike, he noticed, had taken the Viper. Probably just to irritate him. Which it did. But mostly he was just feeling restless. There hadn't been any reports of demon activity that he knew of, so he figured he'd just do the whole patrolling thing and try to find a good fight to fight. Somewhere away from Wolfram and Hart. So he just picked a direction and started driving.
He ended up in San Pedro, about twenty miles south of downtown. He'd driven it with the top down, smelling the ocean. Now he was standing on top of one of the World Cruise Center buildings at the L.A. Harbor, watching the boat lights and the soft roll of the Pacific. It was pretty, but that's not what he was there for. There was usually something evil going down in the Bay area. Sea monsters. Your kid sinking you to the bottom of the ocean. Something. He waited.
There were people around, talking. He eavesdropped on them, found it sort of amusing that they would never know. He was listening to a couple of old ladies arguing about whether nickel or quarter slots were luckier when he, for some reason, began to smell lemons. It was faint, but his vampire senses picked it up from several feet away. Kind of a pleasant smell. He wouldn't have paid much attention, except that he heard a few strangely raspy voices accompanying it. He looked down over the edge of the roof at the smallish group of people gathered there. The smell was coming from them.
Only, Angel noticed as he got a better whiff, they didn't smell human. They were clearly soulless, and their blood smelled... citrus-y. Acidic, even. Also, their hair was streaked with blue and as they talked, even from high above them, Angel could see how pointed their teeth were. Definitely demon, or at least some kind of demon/human hybrid, like he was. And, as if that weren't enough, they were discussing a ritual that would call forth the queen of Hell to reign over Earth for a thousand years.
Okay, Angel thought. Looks like I've found myself a fight.
He contemplated the best way to approach them. He could just drop down in their midst and start throwing punches, but there were 12 of them and he didn't know whether or not they were good fighters, having never encountered their kind before. While he was thinking about the best way to handle the situation, four of the demons put on white hats and split off from the group with a hissed promise to meet up later. Crap. Angel didn't know which group to go after. He decided to stay with the remaining eight, since it appeared that their leader was among this group and the others would be returning shortly. Then the eight began to move off as well.
Angel dropped silently from the roof and began to follow them at a distance. He kept them in sight, although he really didn't need to, since their peculiar scent rendered them easily trackable. He could still hear them talking under their breath, the words necklace, Persephone, midnight, and queen repeated many times. Also, something that sounded like "her-MY-un." He gathered that they needed to steal a necklace from a boat, and he figured that's where they were headed. As they crossed a parking lot in the direction of the ships, Angel noticed that they passed by a Viper that was identical to his own. Hell of a car, really. Everybody ought to have one.
The blue-haired, human-looking, lemon-scented demons were nearing the ramp for a ship called Persephone. Angel could see passengers starting to board already, and among them were the four demons wearing hats. The remaining eight bypassed the boarding area. Angel followed them a little further down the marina, where they began dropping one by one into the water. By the time Angel reached the place where they had jumped, he could just barely make out the shapes of eight blue heads moving through the water toward the Persephone. When the first demon got there, it began scaling the side of the ship.
Great, Angel thought. Stowaways.
With a resigned sigh, Angel dropped into the water as well and began swimming.
***
Continued in [Part 2].
***
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 09:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 01:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 09:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 01:40 pm (UTC)The promo for Handbasket Cruises was hillarious, and the set-up is enticing! Everyone is going on the boat. :)
hee hee
Love that Connor got in trouble dating an older woman - again. And that Riley's call-sign is "lilac" - he always was a man secure in himself. :D
*squee*
no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 09:17 am (UTC)you know, i didn't think i'd like writing connor, but i actually kinda do. :)
no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 01:54 pm (UTC)Beautiful beginning ... expect the next chapter!
no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 09:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 02:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 09:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 02:22 pm (UTC)And I love Xander doing carpenter jobs for W&H.
Will be here tomorrow.
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Date: 2009-06-12 09:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 02:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 09:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 04:27 pm (UTC)I loved this snarky exchange: “Tell me that's not for a prostitute,” said Angel.
Spike snorted. “Some of us don't need to pay for it, Peaches," he said, folding the money and stuffing it into one of his duster pockets. "Some of us have our natural charms."
"Some of us do," Angel agreed, taking his wallet back. "But I was talking about you." You have their insulting give and take down.
This is already all kinds of fun.
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Date: 2009-06-12 09:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-11 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 09:53 am (UTC)i hope you continue to enjoy!
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Date: 2009-06-12 09:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 01:05 am (UTC)You can take that to mean I'm a big fan of your work, or that I'm a huge dork. Either one would be accurate.
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Date: 2009-06-12 09:55 am (UTC)a sensible decision!
I'll probably be checking back to previous chapters constantly if I didn't
dude. i do that, and i wrote the freakin thing.
we can be dorks together! i hope you like the story when you get around to it. :D
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Date: 2009-06-12 01:44 am (UTC)The Spike/Angel banter is hilarious:
Spike came over to him, put out one hand, palm up, and said simply, “Money.”
Angel continued to look out the window. “No,” he said.
Spike’s hand didn’t waver. “Need at least $200. But three would be nice.”
“No,” said Angel.
“Alright, four,” said Spike. “But I want you to know, you drive a hard bargain.”
LOL. And this:
“Hell with sequins? What’s not believable about that?”
BWAH! Looking forward to more.
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Date: 2009-06-12 09:58 am (UTC)also, this is the first time i've ever written connor. i had no idea i would like him! but i do. weird.
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Date: 2009-06-12 09:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-13 10:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-12 06:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-13 06:15 am (UTC)Sneaky Gunn and Wesley. Gunn not at all happy, and funnily enough Wesley getting out of going...or does he?
Snarky Spike and Angel are priceless. Excellent work there.
Connor dating an older woman? He doesn't change, does he.
Looking forward to more.
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Date: 2009-06-13 10:33 am (UTC)and you are quite correct to have suspicions about wesley.
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Date: 2009-06-13 02:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-14 09:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-13 04:52 pm (UTC)(The Riley/Sam conversation was particularly cute, btw!)
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Date: 2009-06-14 09:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-25 07:04 pm (UTC)Bad burrito? Hah. Seasickness? I think not.
Angel swimming? Priceless.
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Date: 2009-10-14 05:36 pm (UTC)I am very sorry about the family tragedy, but really happy that you got to sit between Leonard Nimoy and William Shatner (I would totally have that same look on my face!)
I will comment on the new tale as soon as I am caught up!