Title: And A Blonde Shall Lead Them Author: kindred Disclaimer: The characters from BtVS and AtS are the property of Joss Whedon. Rating: PG-13 Summary: A mysterious entity shakes things up at Wolfram and Hart, fashionable anarchy ensues. Oh, and don't judge a hero by her choice in footwear. 19. Cafeteria surveillance, while relaxing and tasty, yielded questionably successful results. Spike learned some useful information but mostly his evidence notebook filled with doodles of a decidedly anti-Angel bent. Wesley supported Harmony and her suspect business acumen with iron clad albeit delusional loyalty, Gunn embraced haute couture dandy pants and bling with near religious zealotry and Lorne had a marked weakness for iced cappuccinos. Buffy stuck her pretty nose and posterior in the air at every opportunity, an obvious ploy to pique Spike's already rapt attention. The girl's tactics were as transparent as the scarves she barely wore in Spike's dreams. One dynamic became glaringly obvious; Wesley and Fred were much more than merely colleagues. The only consolation, and it was a small one, was that Angel was still a raging git with bad hair. Eager to remain proactive, Spike thought a different location might yield better results. The foyer in front of Harmony's office afforded some interesting sight lines. Watching Angel tackle the intricacies of computer hygiene maintenance proved momentarily diverting but ultimately unsatisfying. It took a while for Spike to settle in but he finally decided on a relaxed lean with one boot raised to the wall. Amazingly, no one questioned him or even acknowledged his presence, save for a few affectionate ankle rubs from Mr. Pussy Galore as he passed by on his daily inspection of the territory. Harmony's office remained the hub of activity. Department heads came and went with anxious regularity. Wesley arrived wearing a camouflage jacket, hoisting an impressive weapon and looking like the Crocodile Hunter's strong chinned English cousin. Through the windows Spike saw Wesley speaking with Harmony. His animated gestures indicated success in whatever it was he had accomplished. Harmony bounced in her chair and clapped in response to the details. Spike wasn't surprised that he'd been excluded from yet another excursion; still, it would have been nice to be asked. A little mayhem would have been a welcome change of pace but he needed to stay close and alert. Time passed leisurely and uneventfully until Lorne whisked down the hallway in a wild-eyed dither. He snagged Spike's elbow and gave it a muscular yank moments before Spike finished counting the indentations on the textured surface of a handsome recessed fire extinguisher closet. 653, 654, 6-- "Hey!" Spike protested the jolt of sudden movement. "Have a care. Can't you see I'm doing something?" Lorne stopped and angled a look that was both apologetic and beseeching. "Spike, you are needed in Herself's office, like, right now." Panic practically squirted from Lorne's tense face. "I'm busy," Spike sighed and turned back toward his leaning spot. His concentration was broken. So much for counting; no matter, he had a number of significant thoughts to meander through and this was the perfect place for a quiet meander. Besides, Spike had seen the Chicken Little act before and figured that Lorne needed to add a few new routines to his repertoire. Flapping his coat tails at a gallop was getting a tad predictable. Logically, Spike knew that the sky couldn't be falling every damn day, no matter how sincere Lorne's twitchy upper lip might be. "I'm quite sure that wall can hold itself up for a few minutes while you're away." Lorne used both hands and dragged Spike toward the big office. They paused outside long enough for Lorne to take a calming breath. He tried to remember his current centering mantra. "This is an emergency, and when did you start turning your nose up at helping out when your talents are sorely needed?" "Hang on a minute, what talents of mine is Harmony in need of, exactly?" "Well, frankly, she's running a bit low on testosterone at the moment." Lorne opened the office door. Spike met the expectant stares of Gunn, Wesley, Angel and Harmony. "Spike?" Angel sputtered in disgust. "That's all you could muster?" Lorne made a face in Angel's direction. "I was working against the clock, Angel. I couldn't get just anybody." In the midst of the emergency he had thought of snagging Flewellyn, who was currently misting palm fronds in the atrium, but the mission was for testosterone and plenty of it. It was a good thing that Spike happened to be loitering in a useful location at that moment. "Spike is a team player, aren't I always saying that?" Lorne spread a wide grin across his face and aimed it directly at Angel. "Turn that frown upside down, sunshine, and get your team vibe on. We are a manly selection of Wolfram and Hart's finest and we're ready to rumble!" Lorne gave a confident tug to his form fitting plaid jacket and fluffed up his satin pocket square for good measure. "Oh, quick question, fellas. There won't be any actual rumbling, will there? I just got my horns waxed." "Not to my knowledge, no," Wesley responded. "Research indicates that physical contact is not required. The staging is of cultural significance." "Perfect! Sounds all kinds of groovy to me." A deep breath of relief expanded Lorne's wide chest before he sauntered across the office with a practiced macho gait. Spike stood in the doorway for a few awkward seconds before wandering inside, a skeptical look plastered on his face. Angel harrumphed and crossed his forearms over his chest. "I suppose this will have to do," Wesley surmised. "I wonder if there's a specific positioning we should assume for the meeting proper?" "Just stand tall, guys," Harmony interjected with a cheery grin. She paced back and forth across the carpet, smoothing her outfit in restless anticipation. "I know it's going to go great. Gosh, I can't believe I'm going to meet a legend! I went for the suede platforms instead of the metallic." Harmony stared down at her feet. "Do you think that was the right choice? Do they make my feet look too conservative? I don't want to seem too extreme or too behind the times." "Calm yourself," Lorne soothed. "Deep breaths-- Or, um, something." What exactly did vampires do to break the tension? Bloodletting was out of the question, too messy, but-- Lorne gave a thought to Flewellyn in the atrium. Perhaps this was the opportune moment for him to prove his mettle and sacrifice himself for the greater good of Wolfram and Hart. "Does my hair look okay?" Lorne pushed those thoughts out of his head. He didn't need mayhem for back up, he had charm, poise and the velvety words of a Svengali. It was time to start earning his pay. "The mane of a corporate goddess," he gushed with awestruck sincerity. Lorne busied himself by inspecting Harmony's tousled mane and reporting on its flawlessness. "I used to be a legend," Angel mumbled miserably while taking up his position as a chorus boy. It wasn't that he longed for a return of his Scourge days but, on occasion, executive secretary did feel like a curious deflation in demon rankings. Redemption was, as he knew intimately, a twisty and perilous path. Who was he to quibble with the way of things? Perhaps he should work harder on his office efficiency quotas and his typing speed. Champions came in all guises and fought with a variety of weapons. Even at the keyboard, Angel was still a champion. Spike caught the pouty aside and sidled up to Angel. "Disgruntled, are we, toner boy?" "Shut up, Spike!" "Both of you shut up!" Wesley spoke with fierce authority and glared at the squabbling vampires. This was no time for the Spike and Angel show. "Angel, I'm counting on you," Harmony batted her lashes with pubescent fervor. "I know you won't let me down with your silly quarreling." Angel ground his molars in response. What was he thinking? Spoiling for a fight when Harmony needed him on his toes. He deserved to be upbraided by his boss but in front of Spike? The scowl at the edge of Angel's brow deepened considerably. * Harmony sat behind her desk flanked by her underlings. She stood when her client arrived. The office door flew open and an imposing Amazon of a demon with feathered shoulder epaulets breezed inside. Three severely muscular males who looked like they'd gone missing from a bondage fashion show attended her. Each of the demons wore what looked like painted on leather apparel with glistening, muscular flesh peeking through strategic slices in the fabric. The female stood with her hands at her hips, swishing her prehensile tail and assessing Harmony with a critical eye. Harmony stood with her mouth agape, dumbfounded by the vision before her. The demon queen had at least a foot on her in height and the most fabulous buckled up boots Harmony had ever seen. They were hot. And the tail? Whoa. The whole tail swishing vibe edged dangerously close to Charlize Theron territory. It was like looking at a one of a kind, fairy princess Barbie made flesh, except instead of Malibu castle goodness there was a dark, vicious dominatrix thing going on. If pink wasn't already the new black, Harmony might have seriously reconsidered her color commitments, but the boots were definitely doable. The demon entourage had that togetherness vibe of an efficient team with matching, devastatingly sexy wardrobes. Harmony's eyes dazzled at the magnificent display. Feathered epaulets were a revelation, to be sure. She had to get the number of this demon's stylist; but first, introductions. "Mistress Otilla, I'm Harmony Kendall and I am so pumped to meet you." Harmony's smile briefly eclipsed the span of her face. The demon's reptilian eyes roamed the room slowly, finally coming to rest on the eager, welcoming face of her host. The mighty Mistress paused. Necessity compelled her presence but the slender, pale creature with blunt teeth and painted skin hardly engendered a feeling of confidence. "There was a meeting scheduled with Li-lah Mor-gan. She did not honor her commitment." The demon spoke in a slow, gravelly voice of evident contempt. Harmony managed a tight, embarrassed smile. Lilah had ruthless ambition in spades but also some wacky personal issues that led to her demise. "Yeah. She, um, was killed. Sorry about the postponement there. We're all about the punctuality now." Mistress Otilla drifted around the lavishly decorated office, taking in both the curious display of dainty unicorns and the wall of men standing at attention behind Harmony. The demon stepped behind them and appraised them, almost as if she were reviewing the troops. Spike met her gaze with a curl of his lips. Never mind the back up singers, he figured this one had testosterone in spades. "I see you keep a fine stable of eunuchs," the Mistress observed. Her demeanor relaxed in recognition of the respect paid to her traditions. Wolfram and Hart had done its homework. "I approve." Perhaps Lorne should have mentioned the role Spike was to play in this little impromptu charade. "What? What'd that bint say?" The response burst from Spike's mouth. Angel promptly elbowed Spike in the gut and wiggled his meaty eyebrows to convey his displeasure. Apparently, not much was required of the male Wolfram and Hart team beyond possessing a Y chromosome and standing upright. Spike rolled his eyes just as he observed Angel flex his chest. "These are my colleagues, Mistress," Harmony explained sweetly. "And they're not, um, to my knowledge, eunuchs." She whispered the last word shielded by her palm. "Really? Interesting." The Mistress' gaze floated down the line of potent male flesh and zeroed in on Lorne. His Adam's apple began to bob nervously. "We are a team of finely honed professionals," Harmony spoke with confidence, echoing her favorite pamphlet quotable. "I value the skills my team brings to the table. You won't find better representation anywhere." Harmony perched on the edge of her desk and drew her fingertips together in a splayed and arched configuration. "I understand that you are in need of our services. How may we assist you?" The Mistress was satisfied. They could proceed. "I require...arbitration." "We have experience in these matters," Harmony assured her. "Please tell me more." tbc...