24

Reconnaissance

"Someone you know?" Wesley repeated stupidly. "Surely you don't think one of us is responsible, do you, Rose?"

"Of course not, Wesley." Rose smiled gently and shook her head. "But you have to admit that limited though my experience is, it still covers more than the people in this firm. And I have met some less than pleasant people."

"True enough," the Watcher conceded. "May I point out, however, that most of them are either dead or safely incarcerated?" Rose's remark had raised his hackles despite his very reasonable counter argument. And Rose, being who and what she was would almost assuredly always be a target.

Rose sighed, and pushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm well aware of that," she rejoined, a little dispiritedly. "But that feeling that I'd already met whoever it was before was very strong. And just because someone is locked away once doesn't necessarily mean that they'll stay locked away forever."

Wyndham-Pryce's stomach started churning up acid at this very valid point. "I believe Giles would have mentioned it to us if Ethan Rayne had gone astray again," he offered feebly.

"I'm sure he would," Rose agreed. "But aside from that, I don't think this was Ethan Rayne's style." Her face brightened momentarily as it often did when she remembered the proper colloquialism. "There's also Ahmed Al-Shere." The brief brightness washed away to be replaced by a faint greenish cast. The mere mention of the wizard-mage was enough to make Rose queasy.

Even Wes paled slightly at that thought. "Inventory of the vaults is going on right now," he muttered, reaching for his phone. "It won't take more than a moment to verify that Ahmed Al-Shere is still safely tucked away in his tanishad bottle." He looked at Rose quizzically. "I know he gave you quite a difficult time, Rose, but why Ahmed Al-Shere? You trapped him in that container yourself, and we're pretty careful about who we let in the artifacts vault. Why would anyone want to let him out?"

"I'm not sure." Rose's expression was pensive. "But given his previous predilections, it is the sort of thing that he might do. As for who might let him out, someone could do it unwittingly, merely out of curiosity."

"Most employees here have long since learned that that sort of curiosity can be fatal," Wes replied dryly. "Not to mention that access to the vaults where the tanishad container is stored is limited to a select few people."

"I suppose I could have been mistaken," Rose muttered insincerely. The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed to her that Ahmed Al-Shere had somehow gotten out. And from the look she saw on her boss' face, it seemed that he might be beginning to think so too.

&&&&&&

Computer science was easily Ariel's favorite class, and probably would have been even if Oz hadn't been her teacher. But today, Oz, (or Mr. Osborne, as he was in class) seemed a little distracted. And the occasional glance he shot her way led her to the conclusion that it might have something to do with her. Given that impetus, Ariel decided to peek into her teacher's thoughts and found that he wanted a private word with her, so private that he didn't want to call attention to the fact by asking her to stay after class. Once she knew that, Ariel didn't probe further, but let Oz know that she had gotten the unspoken invitation and would be by after school. As an afterthought, she asked if he wanted to see Alaric as well, and got an unqualified affirmative.

&&&&&&

Angel and Spike checked Rose's office, and upon finding it vacant, decided to check Wesley's. They found the researchers engaged in a spirited discussion.

"I'm not saying your theory is totally impossible, Rose," Wesley was saying in placating tones. He never gotten as far as making his phone call. "I'm just pointing out that it is very, very unlikely."

"We deal with the unlikely on a daily basis here, Wesley," Rose reminded him. "And how much more unlikely could you get than my children? My whole human life has been extremely unlikely."

"Good point, pet." Spike commended as he gravitated towards her. He didn't know what the discussion was about, he just knew that hell or high water, he was on Rose's side.

Angel stifled a sigh. Spike and Rose always backed each other up, even, as far as he was concerned, to the point of idiocy. "Personally, I'd like to know what they were arguing about before I decide which side I'm on."

"Oh," squeaked Rose, startled. "It was just an intellectual exercise, really." Her tone was extremely unconvincing, but her eyes begged Angel and Wes to play along.

"Er.., yes, just as Rose says," the Watcher agreed, a little more convincing than his assistant had been. In an effort to steer the conversation elsewhere, he asked, "What brings you gentlemen here?"

"Wes, did you tell anyone that Rose was taking the day off yesterday?" Angel asked.

Wesley looked a little taken aback, like it was not at all the question he'd been prepared to answer. "Well, quite a few people, actually. I mean, our department sees quite a bit of traffic, and since Rose almost never takes any time off, everyone asked about her."

"Which means it was probably all over the bloody place within the hour," Spike muttered disgustedly. "Those gossiping wankers need to be getting themselves a life."

Angel was trying to refrain from the good hearty damn that his frustration demanded. He didn't want Wesley to feel he'd done anything wrong, when as a matter of fact, he hadn't. But it was damned inconvenient.

"Was it very important?" Rose asked, seeing the pent-up emotion in her friend's eyes.

"Just and intellectual exercise, babe," Spike assured her. "Isn't that right, Gramps?"

"Something like that," Angel grumbled in agreement.

"Perhaps we'd best be done with the mental sit-ups and get on with some actual work then?" Wesley suggested, trying to break the tension.

Since no one had a better suggestion, they did just that.

&&&&&&&&

A few minutes after the last bell rang, Alaric joined Ariel in Oz's classroom.

Oz blinked. He hadn't even gotten his end of the day paperwork together. "That was fast. Do you have a class at this end of the building last period too?"

Ariel answered for her twin. "Nope. But there are a lot of short cuts you can take when no one is looking." She winked.

Oz noticed Alaric was hovering more or less behind his sister, uncharacteristic behavior to say the least. "Alaric, this is mostly about.., oh holy cow." This last was said as a visibly battered Alaric hove into view. "What happened to you?"

"Gym class," Alaric replied sourly. "If you wanted to warn me that Harmful Harmon is gunning for me.., well, I kind of got the heads up on that, so to speak."

"Your mom's gonna flip her lid." The words came from Oz's mouth almost involuntarily.

"Do tell," Alaric groaned, leaning against the wall.

"Was that what you wanted to tell us, Oz?" Ariel inquired. It didn't really explain why their old nanny/tutor/friend had wanted to see both of them.

"That wasn't even on the list," Oz confessed. "But it may be a little complicated and take some time. Think your folks would have a problem with me swinging by later for a talk where no one from school is going to see or hear us?"

Both of the twins' eyes unfocused for a moment.

"Mummy says just come to dinner tonight," Ariel announced.

"And don't even think she'll take no for an answer," Alaric added before Oz could say anything, one way or the other.

&&&&&&&

"Spike, do you think you could surprise me every once in a while by not acting like a complete moron?" Angel snapped.

"I don't see how wanting to keep my nearest and dearest safe makes me a moron," Spike shot back. "At least I'm doing something, while all you can manage is to sit there with your thumb up your spotty, white ass."

Angel almost wished they'd gone back to the training room. He was feeling more than ready to work out some of his frustrations, and Spike was, to his mind, practically begging to be pounded on. "Tell me exactly what good it is going to do to put a guard on Rose against something that's invisible? Something that left so little trace behind that we could barely tell it was there?"

"So I'm just supposed to sit around and leave her unprotected?" Spike demanded.

"I'd be happy to provide her with any sort of protection she needs, Spike," Angel rejoined, visibly working at reining in his temper. "You tell me what she's in danger from, and I'll get whatever she needs to protect her. First, maybe we'd better establish whether or not she really needs to be protected. After all, whatever it was just shook her up. It didn't hurt her."

Spike glared at him. "Pardon me if I'd rather err on the side of caution where the woman I love is concerned," he snapped.

Angel slowly counted to ten inside his head, then ten more for good measure. Then, he sighed. "Have you been listening to even every other word I've said?" he queried, knowing full well the answer before he asked. He decided that nothing even remotely resembling subtlety would work here, so, he grabbed Spike by the lapels, and shook him in rhythm with his words. "How are you going to protect her? And what from?" He took extra care to make sure that Spike's head smacked against the wall a few times during the process.

Surprisingly enough, he got away with it. He wasn't sure if it was because what he'd been saying all along had finally started to seep down through the peroxide, or if he had just taken Spike by surprise.

"Bloody git," Spike snarled, carefully patting his hair back into place. "You know the shit that goes on in this place. You know the sorts that Rose seems to attract. What do you honestly think are the odds that everything is hunky-dory?"

"I never said that everything was all right," Angel replied in measured tones. "Or even that it probably was. But I just don't think that taking shots in the dark is going to help."

"Some kind of protection ward?" Spike suggested, and Angel heard the desperation in his voice, the fear for someone he loved more than anything on earth.

"We'll see what the witches have in stock," he promised. To be honest, he'd feel a lot better if Rose had some kind of protection, he just hadn't been able to think how to do it. Now, he had, if not the answer, then something that would do until it came along.

&&&&&

Wesley hung up the phone. "I just spoke with Michael Goodhue, who is the custodian of the vaults and currently doing an inventory," he announced to his audience of one. "And he assured me that the tanishad bottle is there, safe, sound, and occupied."

Rose didn't realize that she'd been holding her breath until it came out in a rush. "I was beginning to be sure that it was him," she murmured. "I'm so glad that it wasn't. Thank you, Wesley."

He flashed her a grin. "It was little enough to do to calm your fears on that front, Rose. And it also closed off one avenue of the search of who was in your flat. Two birds with one stone."

Rose's forehead suddenly wrinkled in thought, and the Watcher recognized the look and realized that he'd have to explain the saying to his assistant.

&&&&&

Ahmed Al-Shere snickered silently. Because the trusting fools had heard what they wanted to hear from someone they thought they knew, they assumed that all was well. At least, as far as he was concerned. Then, he paused for a moment, wondering what exactly had caused them to entertain the possibility that he had escaped his prison in the first place. He decided he needed more information than office gossip would provide. What he really needed was to hear what was going on in the research department. He went to a small, quiet place, far from "his" office, where he'd painstakingly, over a period of days cached a few supplies. Then he went about casting a spell of listening where it would do the most good.

No one was more surprised than he when a flurry of alarms and claxons announced that all hell had broken loose.