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 Spoilers/Summary: AtS S5 Post "Smile Time". 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. 8. The rest of the day proceeded uneventfully. Harmony enjoyed a leisurely lunch break courtesy of the Slayer suddenly showing up. Due to her excellent time management skills, Harmony was able to squeeze in a little eBay surfing and still have plenty of time to prepare materials for Angel's important meeting with the gang. She made up a jug of ice tea and frothed Angel's vole to super foamy in his oversized "World's Best Boss" mug. Despite Harmony's ability to maneuver crowded hallways and malls in sky high platform shoes with zero casualties, things never quite worked out that well in a room with only two occupants, namely, herself and Angel. Consequently, it should have been no great surprise that Harmony, upon entering Angel's office, found herself in the awkward position of a stand off with him. Left or right? Which was the direction? Neither participant could anticipate the other's moves. Angel's temper rose to the surface quickly. "Harmony." "I'll just--" Harmony side stepped using the universally acknowledge body language for I'll move in this direction. Apparently her shoulder and nose combo was a little too subtle for Angel's decoding skills. They moved again in tandem and then froze. "Is this a vampire thing?" Harmony giggled in an effort to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation. The fierce overhang of Angel's brow was beginning to concern her. Even though a collision was moving from highly probable to imminent, it came as a big surprise to both parties when with another abrupt movement it actually occurred. A wave of thoughtfully prepared beverages sloshed out of both containers and splashed against Angel's chest. Cashmere, ice tea and blood weren't the best mix. "Oh! OH! Oh Angel." Harmony's face fell at the horror before her. Collisions were for amateurs and soaking the boss was simply not done. "I'm so, so sorry. God, that's gonna stain. I'll get some tissues!" In a frenzy, Harmony set down the jug and mug and leapt for a nearby box of tissues. She started pulling out a sizable wad for use, bounced back to Angel and swabbed his chest and crotch region with voracious purpose. "Oh, God. Silk pants. Blood stains." Harmony needed more tissues. Neither noticed when Wesley entered the office. "I've compiled the latest schematics for..." Wesley's voice trailed away as he saw Harmony bent in front of Angel in a curious stance. "Harmony, you're just spreading it around," Angel complained. "No, I'm getting most of it. Stand still, just let me..." Harmony dropped to her knees and addressed his crotch with yet more tissues. "There's no need," Angel glanced up to see Gunn and Fred enter the office. "Okay, I didn't see this coming." Charles Gunn stopped and stared. "It's nothing, just a little stain." Angel tried to remain nonchalant. Not a problem, not a problem at all. "A rather big stain actually, Charles." Wesley wondered if he should offer to get some towels from the bathroom. There was a reasonable facsimile of a puddle on the carpet around Angel's feet. They might require orange safety pylons. "What are you doing, Harmony?" Fred questioned, unsure of whether she wanted an answer or not. There was a little too much public crotch rubbing for her comfort. "This is silk, Fred," Harmony instructed coolly. "You need to swab in short aggressive strokes, with the grain, like so." She demonstrated skillfully. Angel didn't want to continue the display of Harmony and her short aggressive strokes on his crotch with his department heads in rapt attendance. He gripped her wrists firmly. "That's enough, Harmony." "But the carpet." "Leave it." "I thought I'd get a jump on the meeting by bringing in the drinks early." Harmony explained as she picked up the empty mug and the jug of ice tea. She placed it on a side table and returned to gather up the wads of soaked tissues and dab the carpet. She gazed at the stain still prominent on Angel's clothing. "That can't be comfortable, boss. I'll zip up to your penthouse and grab something dry." "That won't be necessary. I have some extra clothes here in the office." "Well, let's get you out of these wet ones then. I can get them laundered in no time!" Harmony dumped the used tissues into a garbage pail, grabbed the hem of Angel's sweater and started tugging it up his chest. At that moment Lorne breezed into the office. "Sorry I'm late, but I've had a heck of a time juggling dueling tween divas. Just wait to those bitchas hit puberty--" His eyes widened at the sight of Harmony trying to disrobe Angel. "But this is infinitely more interesting. Popcorn, anyone?" "Stop, Harmony. STOP!" Angel growled. "Sorry boss." Harmony flinched slightly, realizing that Angel could change his own clothes. Allowing him the opportunity to do just that would be the preferred option. "I'll just, um..." "Go, Harmony." "Okay." Harmony sighed, not wanting to admit defeat. She grabbed the trash container, the empty mug and the glass jug. All eyes followed as Harmony retreated from the office. "She's not working out, Wes." Angel rubbed his fingertips against his brow. "Really? How so?" Wesley had thought Angel and Harmony a perfect business team. Harmony had office skills that Angel lacked and she excelled in her new position, showing ingenuity and dedication above and beyond the call. "Take a good look." Angel angled his palms at his waist to show off Harmony's latest triumph. He then began listing the most egregious offenses as he saw them. "She's always under foot, anticipating my every move, bringing me stuff before I ask for it." He tightened his jaw and practically snarled. "It's really annoying." "She's your executive secretary Angel," Wesley stated plainly. "Anticipating your needs is her job. It's called initiative." Angel wasn't receptive to Wesley's argument. He wanted to hear what Wesley had to say after his favorite meal had been dumped all over him. "She's too damn cheerful!" Angel accused. This obviously was an unpardonable offense. "Remember when the Daedelus Cartel came to coordinate that ritual wailing thing? Happy go lucky, whistling Harmony almost killed those negotiations." "It's called a learning curve, Angel," Wesley reminded him, "and we're all on it." "She smiles too damn much." "Golly, I think she's doing a swell job." Lorne spoke up in Harmony's defense despite Angel's weighted glower. "She's so bubbly and positive, it's infectious. Not to mention needed." Lorne dropped his volume for that last bit. Others in the room caught his meaning even if Angel missed it. Successful business acumen required an intangible social elasticity that often eluded Angel. Harmony, on the other hand, was as malleable as a rubber band. "She does do the client thing really well." Fred nodded her head in agreement. Angel's voice cracked as he walked into the executive washroom to change. "What client thing is that?" "Smoothing ruffled feathers, keeping tabs on negotiations, juggling contentious participants..." Fred recognized Harmony's effort. She was a little unorthodox at times, but Harmony could think on her feet. "Don't forget she satisfied that blood sacrifice that time," Gunn added. "Those dudes settled down nicely after Harmony did her chopsticks thing." Gunn pantomimed a staking action to illustrate. Angel quickly reappeared wearing a loose fitting dark gray zippered tracksuit. "I was thinking about trying out someone else from the steno pool." "Someone else?" Wesley balked. "You think that's necessary?" "We're heading into delicate negotiations and I can't take the risk that Harmony will screw things up." "That's a little harsh." Wesley didn't want to go looking for new problems when they were swamped with so many already. "It's not the wisest thing to shuffle up the team before a big game, Angel." Gunn knew the value of a united front, any changes could be perceived as a weakness. Angel could hardly believe what he was hearing. It was time to lay down the law. "Harmony is not part of the team!" A slight gasp at the door caught Angel's attention. Harmony forced a smile but it was obvious she'd overheard Angel's disparaging comments. "I'll just, um, get your clothes and get them to the cleaners right away." She scooted into the bathroom to retrieve the soiled garments and then left quickly. "I think she heard you." Fred stared at the closing door. Angel twisted his mouth sourly and sat down in his chair. "Can we get on with this already?" The team took their seats to begin. * Harmony rushed through the hallways in an emotional blur. She burst through the stairwell door and collapsed on the top concrete step. The stairwell was the closest available Angel-free zone. Here she could sit and get her thoughts together without fear of interruption or further chastisement. "What does he expect?" Harmony grumbled. "I'm not a freakin' mind reader." Angel zigged when she thought he would zag. His sweater was ruined, that was a certainty, and the pants probably were too. Dry cleaners didn't work miracles and blood was blood. It sounded like she was headed back to the steno pool and corporate anonymity, if her eavesdropping skills were up to scratch. Oh, who was she kidding? Her eavesdropping skills were top notch. Frustrated tears threatened to fall. A litany of alleged wrongs, as defined by Angel, chimed through her mind. "He complains about my phone etiquette and then I'm too abrasive with the clients or I'm too friendly when I should be slapping their faces and insulting their matrilineal descent. Hello? It's called communication." Exasperation pulsated upon her pouty exterior. "I read the Big Bad Duo-tang and every last one of Holland Manners' pamphlets--that was a man with vision. Angel needs vision. Things would go a whole lot smoother if he just embraced his role but he acts like being the boss is a booby prize or something." Her voice quickened into a vicious hiss. "He doesn't give me a chance. That's prejudice and it's worse because he's a vamp too, but does he give me any slack? Of course not! It's not my fault I have no soul, like having a soul is so great in the first place. Who's got, like, six mentions in the Baddest Badasses Ever, volume 1? Uh huh. Mr. Don't-Call-Me-A-Hypocrite. Well, I am doing my job and three quarters of Angel's job besides. This place would totally fall apart if I didn't keep it together with my sparkly glue." The sound of a throaty interjection echoed in the cavernous stairwell. A monogrammed handkerchief suddenly appeared within her visual field. Harmony's gaze focused on the muscular thumb and elegantly manicured nail that accompanied it, then traveled up the length of a handmade Italian suit sleeve to a strong jaw line. Marcus Hamilton had a front row seat to her ugly little freak out but Harmony was long past caring. She wasn't a machine. She had feelings and they had to come out. "Thanks." Harmony accepted the offering and glumly wiped her eyes. "It can't be that bad. I've seen the books, Miss Kendall, and there's no call for tears from such pretty eyes as yours." He flashed a smile. "It's nothing." Harmony stared at his exquisitely tailored suit and heavy gold cufflinks and her mind began to wander. This was a man with presence, style and most certainly, lucrative stock options. Success practically oozed from his every pore. She looked as though she might say something. "Miss Kendall?" Hamilton ventured. "You are way prettier than that Eve chick," Harmony declared. It was the first thing that popped out of her mouth. There was no impulse to feign embarrassment for such an inappropriate comment because it was the plain truth. Marcus Hamilton was tall and wide with shiny shoes and twinkling teeth and way better curves than Eve. Harmony hoped that all of her makeup hadn't slid off her face in her tears because she wanted to make a good impression and everyone knows that fluorescent illumination is not flattering to the deceased. "Really?" "Uh huh. I know it's unprofessional to say that, but I can't help it. You just exude power. It's very sexy. Some people have it and some people don't and you've got it. Between you and me? That was the stretch with Eve. She didn't do the exudy thing like you do. Anybody with any business smarts will know that you are the king pin here." "I see." "And your beautiful suit has probably been scotch guarded and everything, so if someone accidentally spilled, say, a frothy beverage or two on it, all you'd have to do is swab up the excess with no problem." Deep vertical creases appeared between Marcus Hamilton's muscular eyebrows. "I don't quite follow." "Would you fire someone who spilled something on you? Something that might stain, not like boiling oil or acid or something like that because I can totally see that as grounds for dismissal." "I can't say that it's ever come up. Tell me, Miss Kendall, how long have you been with us at Wolfram and Hart?" "A little over a year." "And you like your job?" Harmony nodded with enthusiasm. "This is the best job I have ever had. I love being a part of the Wolfram and Hart corporate family." Sincerity shone through her words. Finally, Harmony belonged. If it was back to the steno pool then she'd cope somehow because typing was essentially just typing. It was the other things she'd miss: being in on the big deals, facilitating Angel's schedule, meeting the mucky mucks and even humming along to the Manilow tunes as they wafted out from Angel's office during his super solitary, personal strategizing time. Funnily enough, she never mixed up her alphabetical filing with Barry crooning in the background. "I'm sure you do." "And I'm a team player, sir." "Of course you are." "And this place needs well oiled cogs like me." "We most assuredly do." Harmony straightened her shoulders and flashed a grateful smile at Hamilton. "Boy, you are great to talk to, Mr. Hamilton. Thank you for taking the time to speak to me." "It was my pleasure, Miss Kendall." Harmony handed him the handkerchief and opened the door to her floor. She felt invigorated and masterful, the very embodiment of corporate excellence. Things were going to get better. She'd prove herself indispensable to Angel and everything would be fine. Marcus Hamilton watched as she wiggled her way back down the corridor. tbc...