Part 1:
Within seconds of the man's entrance to the Hyperion lobby, a crossbow, stake and cold-eyed stare were pointed in his direction. Neither Wesley, Gunn, nor Illyria had any doubts about the nature of the creature standing twenty feet away - they'd been fighting with, and more importantly, living in close quarters with Vampires far too long for that to happen.
The vampire approached no further, but neither did he retreat, instead raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture.
"I am Thomas of Aurelius. I was sent with a message for Angelus, from my Master, Jardin."
None of the three moved or lowered their weapons, though Illyria's head cocked slowly to one side, her wide-eyed gaze never wavering, as though assessing the creature from this new angle would give her additional insight.
"A message from Jardin?"
All four faces turned toward the top of the stairs, where Angel stood on the landing. He paused for a moment, scrutinizing their visitor, then began to descend. At the bottom of the stairs, he was joined by Spike, who apparently had entered the lobby from the office door off to one side. He moved smoothly forward, falling into step with Angel as though their motions had been choreographed, though he remained just to the right, and half a step behind the taller vampire.
Strangely enough, it was this sight that seemed to generate a change in expression, at least upon the faces of Wesley and Gunn. Both were so used to the bleached blond stomping loudly through the hotel in his Doc's that his completely silent approach now surprised them, reminding them once more that the two creatures before them, no matter how well they thought they knew them, were something ultimately beyond their ken.
"Master Angelus. Master William."
Thomas bowed low to Angel, then turned to Spike, his bow only slightly less so.
Wesley's expression turned speculative when neither of the vampires corrected the use of their old names, but since all eyes were on their visitor, his speculation went unnoticed.
"My message is to be delivered verbally, to you alone, Master Angelus," Thomas said, keeping his eyes down. He held out his hand, palm up, and on it rested a gold coin, stamped with the letters J and A entwined.
"A token of surety, to be held by your Lieutenant."
Angel rolled his eyes, but took the coin and tossed it to Spike, who caught it without removing his gaze from that of the visitor before him.
"This way."
Angel turned and led the way to his office, and Thomas followed in his wake.
"Is this wise, Spike?"
Wesley moved forward to stand beside the blond vampire, who stared toward the now-closed door.
"Wise? What d'ya mean?"
"Angel in there, alone with him."
Spike snorted, finally turning his gaze back to the human.
"You think Angel could be dusted by a Minion, mate? Never happen. I don't think any other Master of the Aurelius line could take him, much less a Minion."
"You did, Blondie," Gunn interjected, smiling at the memory.
Spike smirked, obviously enjoying that trip down memory lane as well.
"True enough, Charlie boy, true enough, but that don't count."
"Why's that?"
Wesley seemed particularly interested in the answer to that question, but his curiosity remained unsatisfied as Spike turned back toward the closed door, clearly hearing something the others hadn't, as at the moment it opened, and the two vampires stepped out.
Angel stopped beside Spike and held out his hand, and the coin was passed to him, then on to Thomas, who again bowed to both.
"Master Angelus. Master William."
Ignoring the others in the lobby, he left the hotel. Wesley moved forward and locked the door, then turned back to Angel.
"Well?"
"Conference room," Angel replied, turning toward the door directly beside the office he'd just left.
The others followed, and upon entering the room moved forward to take their usual seats, Angel at the head of the table, Wesley to his right, Gunn and Illyria to the left. Were the others asked which place was Spike's, they would have been hard-pressed to answer. The blond vampire, as often as not, paced restlessly about the room during their group meetings, generally smoking and annoying the others, and when he did sit, seemed to throw himself down at whatever spot was available without any apparent regard to position or distance relative to the others.
Wesley paused at the chair to Angel's right, and glanced at Spike, his expression once more speculative, Thomas' comment about Angel's Lieutenant, and Angel's response, clearly on his mind. Finally he turned, leaving that seat empty and taking the one beside it instead. Spike paused for a moment, a surprised look on his face, then moved forward slowly to take the seat at Angel's right side.
"None of the Master's Childer have stepped forward to claim his place," Angel began abruptly, seemingly unaware of the small tableau that had just played out beside him.
"Why's that?" Gunn asked.
"All dust, so far as I can tell," Spike answered with a shrug.
Angel nodded his agreement and continued.
"The requisite time has passed - seven years - and Jardin is calling a conclave to determine the new Master from among the next tier."
Gunn leaned forward. "Next tier?"
"From among his Grand-Childer," Wesley clarified.
Angel nodded.
"The clan will meet a week from tonight, and all of Nast's Grand-Childer who want to take his place will submit their candidacy."
Gunn looked confused, and Illyria looked much as she had in the lobby, watching Angel with a steady, bird-like gaze. Wesley however, looked alarmed, and Spike's response, though muted, indicated the same, his lazy posture stiffening abruptly.
"I don't get it," Gunn said. "They're not expecting you to put your name in the hat, are they? I mean that's." He paused and shook his head. "Come on, man, tell me that's not what's happening here."
"That's exactly what's happening here," Angel replied in a clipped voice.
"Huh?"
"All of Nast's Grand-Childer will be given the chance to submit themselves as his replacement."
"That's crazy. You can't be the Master of the Aurelian line. More importantly, why would you want to be?"
"Because the alternative sucks."
All eyes turned toward Spike. His gaze locked with Angel's for a moment before turning toward Wesley.
"You were a Watcher, Wesley, tell him. Tell him what happened to Nast's siblings and peers."
"The Master of a vampire clan suffers no threats to his supremacy," Wesley responded, slowly. "Those who do not submit themselves to the challenge are hunted down and destroyed."
"And those who do?" Gunn asked.
Neither Wesley nor Spike answered, both staring directly at Angel, who finally shrugged and replied.
"The challenge is to the death. In the end there's a new Master, and a whole lot of dust."
"So if you don't submit your name.?"
"They'll send others after me. It won't matter how long it takes, they won' t stop until I'm gone. If any of my house assists me, they'll be destroyed as well."
"Shit," Gunn replied, summing it up nicely for everyone.