Rating: Series is NC-17 overall, certain chapters lesser rating
Disclaimer: The characters certainly do not belong to me, but to Joss, Mutant Enemy et al. I make no money from this. Various scenes are quoted from Smile Time through to Shells, and the speeches were written by Joss Wheedon and Steven S De Knight. Their wonderful words - and my sick ideas.
Pairing: Angel/Spike
Feedback: Do I have to beg? If you like it, I'd love to know. Thank you.
Spoilers: AtS season 5.
Summary: Angel comes to terms with things.
A/N: I wrote this a few months back, before I joined this list - you may have read it on another Yahoo group, but as I've revised the fic I decided to post it here
My Live Journal http://www.livejournal.com/users/ficbitcabear
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"He sews better than anyone I know. He made most of Miss Edith's dresses." Angel told Lorne.
Seeing the amused look that animated Lorne's face, Spike glared at Angel, silently warning him not to explain any further.
"Miss Edith?" Lorne smiled. "This sounds interesting."
"Dru's favorite doll." Spike admitted reluctantly, his unease evident in his tightly controlled movements. "I'd have done anything to keep Dru happy back then. I loved Dru. More than I can say `bout either of you tossers."
The grin spreading from ear to ear was in danger of making Lorne look like a crazy green Joker.
"Tell anyone and I'll rip your head off. Soul or no soul." Spike threatened, his eyes glittering yellow. That was too much for Lorne, laughter erupting as he left Angel's office clutching his sides.
Angel wished he wasn't feeling so crappy, and then he could really appreciate the look on Spike's face. It was priceless, flittering between anger and bewilderment; however, he was falling to pieces - literally. He hated being trapped in this body but at the moment it was the only one he had.
"Please, Spike, sew me up." Angel whimpered pathetically, hoping the wretched tone and the sight of his useless puppet form would do the trick.
Spike snorted angrily, but still picked him up gently from the couch and took him over to the desk. He laid Angel down on the polished surface and removed what was left of his coat and shirt. He threaded the needle with an ease borne of repetition, licking the thread and finding the eye effortlessly.
Actually, he had always found sewing very relaxing, but nobody needed to know that. What with the poetry, not to mention the soul, his standing as a Master Vampire would be shot to pieces.
Spike felt the need to do something really evil. Not end the world evil, because, soul and all... but maybe piss Angel off evil. The corners of his mouth curled up as he started to push Angel's filling back inside.
"First time I've ever got to stuff you." Angel squirmed uncomfortably, but Spike held him down firmly, leering wickedly at him. "Don't think it'll all go back in. What d'you say about me leaving some out? Could give you a nice bod, wide ass."
"I have. I had a nice body already. It's muscle, all muscle. Runt." Angel growled, trying, and failing, to hit out at Spike's hand.
"Keep still, Tickle-Me-Angel, or else the stitching'll be all over the place." Spike had to admit that Angel was right. He did have a nice body, even with all the soft living - but it sure wasn't all muscle. Spike definitely appreciated Angel's body... when he wasn't half his size and made of felt. At the moment his body felt good, sort of soft yet textured.
Spike's hand lifted a little, releasing the weight on Angel's chest. Angel had to force himself to relax and accept the curious sensations. It hadn't hurt him like he'd expected but he could still feel everything. Like now he could feel the tiny stitches quickly pulling him back together, Spike always did have talented hands.
...Maybe they shouldn't be doing that...
"Stop that, Spike." Angel frowned, hoping that Spike would see how displeased he was. Muppet-sized or not, he could still kick his arse.
"Stop what? Oh. that." Spike moved his hand away from where he'd unconsciously been stroking Angel's chest.
"Sorry, mate. You're just so." Spike paused, searching for the right word.
"Say cute, and die. Again." Angel snarled and shifted into puppet game face.
"Was gonna say soft and touchable. But that's cute." Spike stroked Angel's face, a wistful look briefly appearing.
"Sick freak deviant." Angel morphed back into huma... puppet face, determined never to hear his demon side described as cute ever again.
"And don't you just know it. I learnt from the best." Spike winked at him. Angel wondered if everything always had to be this complicated with Spike.
Sometimes, he wished for simpler times. He hated the demon within himself, but Angelus wouldn't have half his worries. Angelus wouldn't have gone in the DON'T room. Angelus wouldn't be CEO of an evil LA law firm.
Well, actually, he probably would be.
"What the hell do you think you're doing now?" Angel couldn't help the panic in his voice, as he realized where Spike's hands were venturing.
"You're all sewn up. Just checking for any other damage, loose seams, you know." Spike muttered absently, as if his mind was elsewhere.
"I really don't think that you need to be checking in my pants."
"Don't be shy, luv. Not like I haven't seen it before. Just want to make sure dog-girl didn't castrate you." For the first time that evening, Spike looked almost cherubic in his innocence. Angel was sure he was going to regret this later, but he let Spike remove his trousers.
"Oh my." Spike's voice was hardly more than a whisper.
"What's wrong, Spike? Tell me. God, no, don't tell me." Angel was freaked out by the shocked look on Spike's face.
"Did you realize you are actually anatomically correct? Didn't really think you would be." Before Angel could stop him Spike reached out and touched him.
Touched him there. On his cock. On his wee, little puppet cock. Maybe not so wee and little, he hoped, as Spike had said he was anatomically correct...
It was all so wrong; he shouldn't have been feeling like this. Angel started to move away, but Spike stroked him.
No, so wrong. Angel looked up at Spike's face and saw the wicked gleam in his eyes, felt his body respond to Spike's gentle touch.
No. No way was Angel going to let this happen. He pushed away from Spike's touch, grabbing at his pants.
Just then, his office door swung open. Lorne was greeted by the sight of a flushed naked puppet on a desk trying his best to put his trousers back on. Failing miserably. "Fuck! Stupid pants! Stupid legs!"
Spike was just sitting there in Angel's chair grinning like the cat that had got the proverbial cream.
"Get. The. Hell. Out. Of. Here." Angel's voice was icy cold as he spoke to Spike.
"C'mon, Lorne, let's go find some fun. Or booze. Sea Breezes, right?" Spike sauntered towards the door, holding it open for Lorne to follow him out.
"You going to be okay, Angel-cakes?" Lorne paused, sounding very concerned.
"Yeah. Go on, I've got stuff to catch up on." As the door swung shut behind Lorne, Angel banged his head against the desk. He was going to dust Spike just as soon as possible.
He wasn't just a wee, little puppet man now.
He was a horny wee, little puppet man.
****
Angel was tired and feeling really unappreciated but the blond wasn't making things any easier. "Go home, Spike." Angel repeated for what seemed to be the hundredth time. "Go get drunk. Just go elsewhere."
A smile briefly touched Spike's lips, then it faded as quickly as it had appeared. It was no fun when he'd reached the Angel annoyance saturation point. He knew Angel had a bug up his ass about the bug he'd impaled on his back - a few years ago Angel would have laughed with him at it. Or perhaps not... whatever, this Angel was so tense that Spike was almost afraid to touch him at times, feeling that he'd shatter into a thousand pieces.
He rose from the couch and walked over to Angel's desk. Pushing the piles of folders aside offhandedly, he sat cross-legged on the desk, facing Angel and considered things. So often since he'd been resurrected he had tried to connect with Angel, but felt like he was constantly hitting a solid wall. Actually he did feel a bit for Angel; he'd had to deal with so much crap recently - losing Cordelia, being a puppet, not to mention the whole CEO of an evil empire gig. Not the best place for a soul still seeking redemption - but he wasn't going to go down that road right now. That way laid sadness and madness and he'd tried to leave that behind in Sunnydale.
Plus he was sure Angel wasn't getting any yet from wolf-girl. Despite what he and Angelus had been to each other in the past, Angel had seemed to block it out. Every now and then, Spike caught a look that shouldn't be seen, felt a touch that lingered slightly longer than it should. Yet from his words and the way he acted around everyone else Angel was straight, damn straight. Right, and Spike was a fairy.
Spike just wanted to lean forward and kiss the hidden hurt away but actions cost too much, so he groped blindly for words instead. "I'm sorry, Angel." Maybe, scarily, he meant it.
Suspicious of those kind words, Angel looked up at Spike, ready to ask him just what he was up to, and all at once it felt like something broke inside him. He'd kept everything inside himself, buried deep, far enough away to keep him sane. Connor. Cordy. He'd lost them, and now he was losing himself. He wanted to feel something, but he'd been dead inside, he'd wanted to hit out, to say `help me' before he was beyond help. His friends wouldn't have been able to imagine how dark his thoughts were.
Spike might have been able to understand for, in the end, he was family. Spike knew all the skeletons in Angel's closet... had even put a few in there himself... but there was still the bond between them that went deeper than blood and friendship. It was a bond that endured still even when neither blood nor friendship linked them.
Suddenly he was so aware of just how striking Spike looked. The soft lighting flowed over his high cheekbones; he was beautiful, no doubt. That was the reason that Angelus had allowed Dru to keep her little stray, even when he wanted nothing more than to silence him with a kiss or a stake. After over a hundred years of familiarity outward beauty became common-place; in this moment, it was the look of understanding in Spike's eyes that captivated Angel. Angel wanted him, needed him.
Right now. Right here.
He reached out and put his arms around Spike's waist, pulling him onto his lap. Spike looked stunned at first by this, until Angel pulled the dazed head down and brought his lips up to Spike's, kissing him. Gently, softly. He felt a need to let Spike know that this was Angel who wanted him, not just Angelus. Inside, Angel knew it wasn't entirely true, his demon demanded release, yet despite the hunger he felt Angel would not, could not, let it free. It had been so long since he'd let him feel like this... let himself feel anything.
One of Angel's hands went around Spike's neck, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the almost, but never totally, faded remains of the scar that would always remind them both of ancient, long-ago buried history. Even now, all these years later, the reaction was still the same. Spike's head fell back, his neck elongating, mouth dropping open and drawing in an unwanted breath. A strangled keen escaped those bitable lips, Spike's passion stifled vocally if not physically.
Spike whimpered and ground himself into Angel's lap and their desire, their need for each other grew. Encouraged by Spike's response, Angel's kisses became more forceful. They moved closer into each other, Angel's tongue hungrily seeking Spike's. His hands ranged eagerly under Spike's shirt, scraping a fingernail over one of the pebbling nipples. Spike moaned and bucked against Angel's groin.
Spike was making Angel hotter than hell, and he knew that if he didn't move things forward quickly, he'd end up making a mess in his pants just like an inexperienced teenager. He pulled back away from his temptation, and Spike looked disappointed, his eyes downcast. Angel smiled at him and whispered against his neck. "Naked, now."
Spike didn't need to be told twice and scooted off Angel's lap, top already halfway removed. Within seconds they were both naked, and Spike automatically knelt in front of Angel, ready to love Angel the way he'd always liked him to. His head bent forward and he licked along the end of Angel's cock. That one small act almost made Angel's legs give way, and he fought to retain some control before he embarrassed himself by losing it right then. Angel pulled Spike back up with one hand, and at the same time he swept everything off his desk with the other hand. Angel pushed forwards, knocking Spike off balance. Supporting him as he fell backwards onto the desk, he pressed his body against Spike's, gasping at the feel of that body against him. Wondering how he could have forgotten how right, how amazing this felt.
The desk was just the perfect height for him; he was already imagining his hands cupping Spike's cheeks as he pounded into him, slaking his desire in Spike's wonderfully tight body.
"Need you. Now." He was shocked at how rough with lust his voice sounded. Spike's eyes darkened and his kiss-bruised lips fell slightly apart. Angel brought his fingers up to Spike's mouth, and he suckled on them as greedily as he had his tongue earlier.
There was something that Angel had to ask - he knew that Spike wouldn't have been exactly virtuous and white as the driven snow in their time apart. He'd often suspected at something between Spike and more than just one member of the Sunnydale gang. Spike had only ever admitted about Buffy, but Angel knew just how insatiable he was. He'd noticed how Spike always stumbled a little and changed the subject whenever Xander Harris was mentioned.
He reached down and ran his fingers along the crease, resting them against the pucker. Spike tensed, which in itself reassured Angel a little, but he still felt the need to ask. "Is this still mine? Only mine?"
Spike glared at him and rolled his eyes, grunting in disbelief at what Angel had asked. "It's my ass, always has been. Just let you have a little lend sometimes."
Angel froze, the realization suddenly dawning that this wasn't the fledge that he'd been ordering around for all these years. In truth, Spike hadn't been that from more than a few months into his vampiric existence - Angelus, and then Angel, had refused to acknowledge it. Spike's face softened and his body relaxed slightly as if he was taking pity on Angel and relenting. His voice was soft and deep. "If it's that important to you, love, then yes. You're still the only one that's known me like that."
Angel didn't really know if he could believe this irksome and deceptive creature but he was willing to accept the companionship being offered. Angel hesitated for a mere moment, his selfish urgency fighting with the desire to make this less painful for Spike. Spike closed his eyes, sighed, and wrapped long fingers around his own erection. "Come on, Angel, stop brooding and let's shag already."
Cool anger spread through Angel, not dowsing but building up the heated fire within him. He was fed up with Spike trying to prove his equality all the time. What the hell did the little shit want from him? A written admission that he was as strong in his own right... he had no idea of what Angel was going through. He ignored the lube that he knew was in the desk draw and forgot about gently preparing him, but instead pushed fingers slick with Spike's spit roughly inside. The blond cried out in pain at the too sudden stretching of his body but still pushed down on the intruders, trying to get them to that sweet spot.
Angel closed his eyes; lost in the moment... flashes of memory came back to him. Oh, his boy was always so good; he couldn't wait much longer to be inside him. To be swept along by their mutual passion, and to feel like he was flying higher and higher.
Angel heard a faint noise, his eyes snapped open and he stared at the office door.
Gunn was standing there, transfixed. Then he was gone, disappearing in an instant.
Spike was staring at him with a worried look on his face. "Why did you stop? What's wrong?"
"Everything."
*****
Gunn bounced around his office singing, he just couldn't help it. Yes, the idea freaked him a little, more than a little, in fact, but he thought it was also kind of cute. He felt like it was all hearts and flowers in the middle of Wolfram and Hart. Fred and Wes, Angel and Spike...
He'd worried, they'd all worried, about signing on with the devil. They'd hoped they would still have their convictions working here. Fight the system from the inside. All that had happened was that they'd had to fight harder to keep hold of their principles. It had been so easy to lose sight of each other in this place, and he felt sometimes like their family was drifting further apart.
Then, magically, there was proof that they still cared for each other - that there were more ways of sticking it to the bad guys than fighting.
Last night Spike had found him outside Angel's office, unable to move, the shock having hit him square between the eyes. He'd been trying to erase the vision of seeing a naked Angel with his hand up the butt of the equally naked writhing blond on his desk. What really kicked was that Gunn hadn't seen Angel look that happy since... forever.
Probably was just as well that he'd walked through the door when he did - Angelus was a tough son of a bitch to get rid of. Gunn wasn't sure that fucking Spike would make Angel that happy - there was far too much history between them. So long as it was just about the sex they should be okay.
Spike was poker-faced as he stood next to Gunn. "Sorry `bout that. Keep on telling the poof he should lock the door when he wants his jollies."
"Uhh." Well, that answered that question - no sudden return for Angelus. All of a sudden Gunn felt really bad about interrupting them and just desperately wanted the ground to swallow him up whole. In this place that sort of thought wasn't good - almost as bad as saying `what could go wrong'.
"Course, it was different, back in the day. Angelus was a right perv. I remember the time when he made the three of us dress up as schoolgirls. I mean, me in a dress!" Spike moved off, not looking back at Gunn's stunned face.
And since then, Gunn had had the same tune running through his head. "Three little maids who, all unwary, come from a ladies' seminary, freed from its genius tutelary." He paused to pick up a paper from the printer, and then continued. "Three little maids from school! Three little maids-"
He hadn't noticed Wes at his door until then and tried changing to rap mid stream "And ya don't stop with all the ladies in the... gangsta but..." He gave up before he embarrassed himself even further.
"What's up?" He asked Wes.
"I should ask you. You seem unutterably cheery."
Wes had probably seen all of it, even the little dance. `Kay, no big problem, he was going to have fun with him anyway. Just because he felt he couldn't tease the vamp that was no reason he couldn't rag on Wes. He put down the folder and walked towards Wes, acting excited.
"Look, I gotta be straight with you 'cause this is kinda blowin' my mind."
"Tell me."
...Oh, this was going to be so good...
"Fred and I are getting back together."
Wes gasped and stared at Gunn
"She was so keyed up from last night's fight, she asked me over. We ended up talking for hours like old times,"
Wes stared at the floor, looking as though he was going into shock.
"Then, all of a sudd- I can't even keep this up 'cause your face is gonna make me weep. Wes, I am so messin' with you."
Wes's reaction was so sweet. It had totally been worth it. They talked a little more, and Wes understood that Gunn was cool with the whole situation. Still, it wouldn't hurt to let Wes know just how special Fred was to him. "And to add the necessary boilerplate, you ever hurt her, I'm gonna kill ya like a chicken."
"Acceptable terms."
"Now, on to the real fun." Could Gunn really tell Wes? He'd been hoping that Lorne would have been the one to drop by and catch him singing. Then he could tell someone, without actually speaking the words and telling them. He didn't think he could keep it secret.
"Yes, you seemed like something was up before you made that tasteless and horrible joke at my expense."
Tasteless and horrible joke? Somehow Gunn didn't think Wes was quite up to his news. No, he'd go with the other option. "Lindsey McDonald." Gunn walked around his desk and passed the report over to Wes.
Wes stood up. "You know where he is."
"Settle for was? He can hide from the senior partners, but not from the DWP and not from our many, many ears."
"He was living here..."
"Under the name of Doyle. The way he was messin' with Spike and Angel, could be he had some other schemes laid out. Senior partners took him out fast. I don't even think he had time to pack."
"Worth checking. Nice work. You should tell Angel."
Oh, no. Not a snowball's chance that he was going in there on his own again. Gunn squirmed. "You can tell him. I ain't goin' in there."
****
Spike burst into Angel's office. He was just as angry now as he had been earlier. So Angel thought that he could snap his fingers, and he'd come running, did he? Did he still think he was a fledge, some minion created only to do his master's bidding? Fight that demon... hurt that human... bend over for me, Spike. Sod that, he wasn't at Angel's disposal, at his beck and call.
Except that Angel had indeed called for him. And here he was. Well, this was now going to be played out his way and not Angel's, Spike told himself. That was why he'd said what he had to Gunn last night. He'd been so pissed that Angel had just pulled away from him and ran for the safety of his penthouse suite.
There was no way Spike was going to follow him to beg, even though it was what he wanted. Angel really had to understand that he wasn't the boss any longer. Bollocks to vampire convention and traditions, they were equals, and the sooner Angel realized that the happier they would all be.
Desperate to hurt Angel as much as he'd just hurt him Spike had lashed out with words. Finding Gunn out in the lobby, it was clear that he had been the one that interrupted them, and it was easy to plant those seeds of doubt in his mind, a mind that would never fully accept Angel.
Angel was just so dumb sometimes - he'd honestly thought they were still arguing over the astronauts and cavemen thing earlier. Spike had thought that Angel would be able to see past the words to what he was really saying.
"It's bollocks, Angel! It's your brand of bollocks from the first to last."
"I am talking about something primal. Right? Savagery. Brutal animal instinct."
"You just want it to be the way you want it to be."
And the git still thought he'd been talking about the argument. He was so wrong, the human race had got stupider since the cavemen - either that, or Angel's demon side was one dumb fuck.
"Harmony just pulled me out of a very promising poker game down in Accounts Receivable, so this better be good." He threw himself into the chair facing Angel's desk, dangling his leg over the chair arm. "Oh, and, by the way, all the guys down there agree that astronauts don't stand a chance against cavemen so don't even start."
He shrugged what he hoped Angel would recognize as an "up yours" shrug.
"Look, I can't do this anymore." Angel walked over to his desk from his position by the windows.
The desk. Angel had been furious when Gunn had pissed in his chair at the party from Hell. He'd gotten a new chair straight away... how long until he replaced the desk?
"Admitting defeat, are you?" Spike allowed himself to feel a little triumphant, as it wasn't often that he really did get one over on Angel.
"You and me. This isn't working out." Spike was flabbergasted, Angel had to be kidding. He couldn't actually really mean that he wanted him gone. After all, he'd had his hand up Spike's arse less than a day before. No, if anything Angel just probably wanted him to come crawling and begging for it.
Deciding that this was Angel's idea of a joke on him, Spike held his hand to his chest, as though wounded by the words. "Are you saying we should start annoying other people?"
"I'm saying you should go."
Spike wondered just what the hell Angel was saying. Did he actually mean that he really didn't want him around? "You really can't stand the competition, can you?" Spike could feel the cold fear grip him, and he was beginning to feel pissed off again.
"That isn't the." Angel sighed, and then carried on, calmer. "The way I figure it, Lindsey brought you back as a spirit bound to this place so you'd become...invested in it. He only made you corporeal again once you'd gotten used to it, attached to it."
Attached to it? Spike wasn't attached to Wolfram and Hart. "I'm not attached." To anything else but you, Spike added silently in his mind. "I just don't have anywhere else to go."
He could play the sympathy card as it was just about the only one he had left. Angel couldn't make him leave, could he?
"What if you did? Look, Wolfram and Hart has got offices in every major city in the world, and a lot more out of it. I'll give you the resources you need to go anywhere: cars, gadgets, expense accounts. You fight the good fight, but... in style." Angel sat on the edge of his desk. "And, if possible, in Outer Mongolia."
Spike was damned if Angel had to be told how important he was to him. The bastard was rejecting him yet again. Spike was determined he was going to retain some dignity in all of this. "Roving agent." He smiled, folding his hands behind his head. "Sort of a 007 without the poncy tux. Go anywhere I want?"
"Anywhere. Everywhere."
Spike smiled, but only on the outside. Words he'd spoken to Angel ages ago came back to him. Yes, Angel and Buffy had thought he'd been speaking about them. He hadn't.
`You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other till it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains, children, it's blood... blood screaming inside you to work its will.'
Yes, he really was Love's Bitch. And she'd slapped him down again. "Hmm. Anywhere but here."
****
Knox left the lab.
Truthfully, Fred felt more than a little embarrassed about the way he kept acting around her, just like some sad little lovesick puppy. Cute at first but it really bugged her now and she'd hoped he would have got the message already that she wasn't interested in him. At first she'd enjoyed his company, but there was something underlying, something not right about him that just made her uncomfortable. It was almost as if he worshipped her like some sort of goddess.
She wasn't one for pedestals... heck, she might look like a truly girly-girl, all frills and giggles, but she could kick ass with the best of them. She'd had to become that, just to survive Pylea, and now it was helping her survive working here. She could handle Knox and his little obsession, and if it got too much she always had her boys to count on.
It was all a moot point anyway. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this happy. Her life, strange as it was - dang strange most days, had turned upside down recently in a very good way. She didn't know exactly what the future held, but she was absolutely and utterly certain it was going to be wonderful.
Impatient as always, wanting to push those boundaries and find out the unknown, she leant over the sarcophagus and reached out to touch one of the crystals decorating the surface.
****
Wes walked slowly around the sarcophagus, ignoring Harmony's ramblings. It was easy to do that, to zone out whilst she spoke. All his attention was focused on the cause of his pain.
"I think this has done all the damage it's going to." Wes mused as Harmony muttered something else in reply to him, some inanity - didn't she ever stop rabbiting on? "She was curious. That's why Fred didn't put it into containment immediately."
He stopped walking and stood near to the iris that had infected Fred; his Fred all too briefly... Had released that thing that consumed her from within until she was gone, the shell as empty as he now felt. "How things work. What makes them special. She was always searching for what other people couldn't see. She was just curious. I think I hate her a little for that." He didn't hate her at all, but he couldn't let his grief stop him now.
"Wes... "
"Hand me the pry bar."
"The girl of your dreams loved you. That's more than most people ever get." Harmony handed over the pry bar anyway.
"I know. But it isn't enough." He brought the pry bar down on the sarcophagus repeatedly, all his anger pouring into that act.
"Wes! Stop it! Wes!"
Wes stopped hitting the sarcophagus.
"I appreciate the urge to smash, but that's not helping."
How would Harmony know what would help? Even before she'd been turned understanding hadn't been high on her list of priorities - she'd just been a vacuous Cordette, as brain dead then as she officially was now. He put down the pry bar and picked up one of the crystals that had been dislodged by his attack. "No. But this might."
"I thought that was supposed to be unbreakable or something."
Nothing was unbreakable. Not even people and Wesley knew that so well. He hadn't loved Lilah but he did miss her sometimes, and was grateful to her for pulling him out of his darkness, fixing him enough that he could be loved by Fred. No, some things were just harder to break but he still hung onto hope, perhaps some things could be fixed. He examined the crystal, hope briefly flaring within him. "Time. The markings refer to a series of concussively timed intervals. This gem is the focal point of the sarcophagus. It might be useful if it isn't already drained."
He had one chance, one idea and he just knew that he had to try it.
****
Impatient as always, wanting to push those boundaries and find out the unknown, she leant over the sarcophagus and reached out to touch one of the crystals decorating the surface.
A strong hand grabbed her wrist. Gasping, she looked around.
"Don't touch it. Please."
She took a couple of steps back from him and the sarcophagus. Wes looked really bad, as though he'd been to hell and back. Before she could ask Wes what he was talking about, Knox came back into the lab.
Fred was shocked to see the look of pure hatred that animated Wes's face. She knew he'd been a little jealous, but there was absolutely nothing for him to worry about there. They were so over - they hadn't even begun. Knox walked slowly and deliberately over to them and the sarcophagus.
"What are you doing in here?" Knox demanded angrily, frustration and confusion warring in his face.
Wes moved so fast that Fred was sure that even in slow-mo she wouldn't see his actions. He grabbed Knox, holding his head over the sarcophagus and touched the same purple crystal that Fred had being examining. An iris opened on the top of the sarcophagus, letting out a gust of air straight into Knox's face. Wes let go of the ashen- faced man.
"What have you done?" Knox's voice trembled.
"Shouldn't you worry more about what I will do?" Wes's voice was cold and measured. He brought his other hand up. Unfolding his grasp, they could see a crystal exactly like one of those on the sarcophagus. "I was going to shoot you now. But I think I'll let you suffer a little first."
Knox's eyes widened in fear, just before Wes's fist connected with his jaw. The blow dropped him unconscious to the floor. Fred was entirely freaked out by what had happened. She turned and ran out of the lab, straight into Angel, Spike... and Wes.
****
Fred looked straight at the Wes before her, a quiet "Oh" escaping. Then she crumpled, Angel's quick reflexes grabbing at her before she hit the floor. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her back into the lab, followed by Spike and Wes.
"Just what made her do that?" Spike's words verbalized everyone's thoughts, but the answer was clear as they took in the scene before them.
Another Wes leant against the sarcophagus, with Knox unconscious at his feet. "I suggest you secure him before he awakens. He will try to escape, and you really don't want that." Wes's unemotional tone took Angel back to the time they'd first met. When the man who was now his friend had been just the new Watcher, eager to please the Council and so tightly wound up Angel had expected him to explode.
In a way Wes did do just that, and had become a more complete man for it. Yes, there would always be that distance between them now and only Angel knew the name of the hindrance. He understood Wes's reasons for his actions, and it had been hard enough to deal with his own anger and confusion, without Wes's guilt. As the saying went, to forgive was divine - and Angel wasn't that holy.
"Would someone please tell me what is going on here?" Angel's bewilderment was the only understandable thing in that place.
****
They were sitting around the conference table with the still comatose Knox handcuffed to a chair. As the newly arrived Wes related his story Angel was increasingly glad he hadn't wanted to let Knox out of his sight.
He was also increasingly angry. Surprisingly, the only outward sign of his anger were gritted teeth and the white knuckles gripping the armrests on his chair. "So you're telling me that he planned for Fred to be taken over by this Illyria?"
"Yes, and it was horrendous. Angel, I know what I want but I leave the decision completely in your hands. Just know that if you delay too long, Knox will become Illyria and will be unstoppable."
"Was Fred in pain?" They were the first words that Spike had uttered in the meeting, apart from a venomous `take that, bastard' spat out when he'd punched the awakening Knox back into unconsciousness.
"Fred was consumed from within. She suffered so much." Wes looked across at Fred, and the hard faced mask he wore slipped and his features softened. "But you were so brave. We. I knew you were hurting so badly, but you hardly complained."
"Hey, if I had my boys and Feigenbaum, that's all I needed." She gave them all a shy smile that radiated love. No matter what happened between them all, Fred was the glue that stuck them together.
Angel's face was thunderous and would have had the rest running for cover had that look been directed at them. Luckily, it wasn't, he got up out of the chair and shook Knox awake, none too gently. The pain was beginning to show in Knox's whitened face, along now with uncertain fear. He'd heard all the stories about Angelus and his predilection for torture. Although Knox knew something wonderful was going to happen to him as he would now be Illyria's host, he was worried about his last few days? ... hours?... in this mortal body. With the facilities available to Angel as CEO what would he choose to do? Angel buzzed Harmony.
"Harmony, I want a room ready for Knox in Permanent Storage. Next door to Pavayne." He knew that Knox would be in unending agony, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to let anyone even consider hurting his friends like that.
"Sure thing, boss." Angel winced at the perky voice that always set his teeth on edge, but within moments Security had come in and removed the cowering little turd from the room.
"Now what do we do about you, Wes?" Angel was grateful for what he'd done, but it was uncomfortable enough at times being around one Wes. If he had two to avoid...
"Nothing. I'll be. umm, going shortly. I've done what I came here to do." Wes rose from his seat and left the room, not looking back.
Angel and Spike followed him out of the room. Angel looked back at Fred and their Wes. He had been holding Fred's hand the entire time they had been talking. Fred looked at him with a sad smile and put her head on his chest. Wes's arm encircled her, as if he was trying to keep her safe. Catching up with Spike, Angel wondered if he was the only one who hadn't realized. "Fred and Wes?" He asked no-one in particular.
Spike looked at him, and shook his head incredulously. "Exactly how dim are you? They've been together since you were a puppet. You really can't see what's in front of your face, can you?" He stomped off, muttering under his breath about dim-witted, blind, stupid vampires.
Angel was stunned momentarily. Was he really so unaware that he didn't see what was going on around him? Had he been so wrapped up in himself that he hadn't really seen what was happening? He paused outside his office door, his mind casting back to the other night. He had behaved abominably, and he wouldn't have been surprised if Spike had been angry with him. Instead Spike had shrugged it off as if nothing had happened, and so Angel had been content to leave it like that.
Truthfully, he hadn't been content - at all. He'd been so embarrassed that he'd practically ordered Spike to leave Wolfram and Hart. He had told him to go live and work on the other side of the world from him. Thinking about it now, he recognized the signs that Spike was throwing up at him. He knew Spike's devil-may-care facade that always hid how much he hurt inside. Blind and stupid, yes, he was both of those. A thousand emotions fought inside him now instead of the nothing he had felt for so long.
He pushed the door open and went inside. Wes was sitting on the couch, cradling a glass of whiskey. Angel sat down in the chair opposite him. "I thought you were leaving..."
Wes laughed faintly. "The crystal isn't meant to be used by mortals. I will be gone soon, but I wanted to talk to you first."
"What about?" Angel really didn't want to play twenty questions, didn't want to talk about his feelings, or have this conversation. He knew that if Wes had hung around to speak to him, things would be bad.
"Remember that underneath everything else, I'm a Watcher. I observe, I notice, or at least I should have done so. We've all been so concerned with our own lives that we've ignored each other. I feel that I pushed you into something you didn't want to do." Wes's fingers trembled a little, and he gulped at the drink.
"Are we talking about Knox here? Because I truly do want him to suffer for eternity, and my soul can take that extra bit of torment if Fred is safe." Angel was relieved; he could do this kind of sympathy.
"I'm happy that you feel like that. Because, honestly, I'm scared to say that I would likely have killed him. He gave up on humanity when he set this in motion." Wes hesitated, uncertainty settling for a moment then disappearing just a quickly. "But no, I'm not talking about him. I'm talking about you and Nina. I feel that I persuaded you to pursue a relationship with her. At the time, I thought that it would help you, but you're not happy. You haven't been for a long time."
Angel wanted to tear his eyes away from Wes's owlish gaze, but he couldn't let him know how near to the truth he was. "I'm doing fine. Dandy, that's me."
"That's complete and utter bunk, and you know it. You need someone that will understand you and accept you. Someone to fight alongside you and with you. Someone who will pull you up when you're down. Someone, if you'll excuse me, who will put up with all your crap and give as good as they get. Someone to talk with as well as to love."
"Sounds wonderful. Any ideas about who this perfect person is?" Angel's voice dripped with sarcasm. He could count the number of successful relationships that Wes could lay claim to on one hand. Still with enough fingers left over to make a gesture that Spike would approve.
Wes laughed again, this time out loud. "I was going to say if only Spike was female." He saw the look that flittered briefly on Angel's face. "Or maybe that's not so important. Look, whatever you decide on, don't be afraid to take a chance. Forgive and love others and you'll start to forgive and love yourself. Please, just humor me."
As he finished talking, Wes smiled at Angel and disappeared, the glass dropping to the floor..
****
The files were open on his desk and Angel read them. Then he went through them again, and again. He could see the words, read the reports, but it wasn't any good, for no matter how much he tried not a word stayed in his mind. Instead his thoughts drifted and he found himself going back repeatedly over Wes's advice.
He had cut himself off from everyone, yes, that was certainly true. He had to erect those walls, had to have somewhere to hide away from well-meaning but painful help. When Cordy had kissed the vision into him he understood why she couldn't stay - wouldn't stay. Yes, he sort of understood that it had been a one time deal for her to say goodbye and put him back on the path. All the same, if she'd wanted to stay with them he was sure she would have found a way to do it, and if it came down to a fight between Cordy and the Powers That Be? He would have put his money on the sure thing - Cordy.
Wes had told them that he'd had the chance to save Fred but didn't take it. Whatever the reason, he didn't want to believe that he'd given up on her so easily. Easy to tell himself that with hindsight, but he knew it wasn't the truth. He'd felt the loss of Connor and Cordy so badly that if he didn't connect with the others that it wouldn't hurt so much if they died.
No, not if... but when they died, after all, they were human, they were mortal. A blessing and a curse. Even if they lived to a happy old age, unlikely in their line of work and in that city, they would still leave him. Everyone eventually left; and he would be alone again.
But he wasn't alone any longer. There was another like him now, someone who could understand him. There was someone that he could have talked to, someone that he could have helped. Someone that he'd rejected, that he'd pushed away over and over again. Yet Spike still stayed nearby, he'd been annoying and irritating, trying to get a reaction, any reaction, just to prove that Angel still cared about any of it.
Of all his friends, Spike had been the only one who had really noticed how lost he was. Spike had been the only one who had really tried to get him to talk. How had he reacted? He'd fallen back into the old familiar patterns and had acted as though he hated Spike. Why had he been that way? There were a thousand reasons, but with a sudden clarity, Angel realized that none of them actually mattered. The only thing that did matter was that Spike had been able to make him feel something, when everything else left him cold.
When Angel thought how he had treated Spike since that evening, he was embarrassed and ashamed. All Spike had done was reach out to him, each time that he'd been slapped back into place. For a century now Angel had striven for redemption, he'd tried to balance his demon with his humanity. All he wanted was a fresh start, a chance to start over with a blank slate. If he wanted that for himself, shouldn't he understand that Spike would want the same?
Their relationship was difficult, steeped in shared, anguish filled history, in betrayals and recriminations, yet also in passion and love.
Wes was right, he did need someone that would understand and accept him, someone to talk with as well as to love. Love? Could he love Spike? Well, he had once, long ago... and thinking about him this way was making those feelings fight their way back to the surface from the dark places within. Yes, without a doubt, he wanted Spike - he always wanted Spike
There were worse things in the world and one of them was being a person as dead inside as he was outside.
Could they start again, please?
****
Spike was already sitting on the edge of Angel's desk when Angel came back into his office. He jumped off the desk and stood cockily, almost challengingly. "So. That job offer in Outer Mongolia still going?"
Angel strode purposefully towards him and grabbed his face, giving no quarter. "No." Angel pulled him closer and kissed him.
Spike pulled away from his hold. "Oh, no, no, no. Don't think so. You aren't going to. Mmnph"
Angel attacked his lips again. After a brief struggle Spike relaxed into the kiss, soft yet firm and, thanking the desk supporting him, making his legs turn to jelly. Eventually they broke apart, Spike dropped back down onto the desk with Angel next to him. "What the fuck was that about, Angel?"
Angel sighed, and Spike turned to look at him. He hadn't seen Angel look so calmed in, well, forever. Angel hesitated, tapping his fingers on his knees; then he pursed his lips and closed his eyes.
Whatever was coming was big, and Spike wondered if he was ready for it. Then a small smile appeared as Angel looked at Spike. "I've been thinking a lot lately. I'm sorry for being such a jerk. I wish that I could go back and put everything right. I can't do that, but I can do whatever it takes to make the future what it should be."
"What future do you see?"
Angel's eyes were full of pain for a second, and then he smiled again at Spike. "I see... you and me."
"But you hate me." Spike was incredulous, and couldn't help the automatic response.
"I've never hated you. I've been jealous; I've been scared that you would leave." Now that Angel had begun to talk, it seemed that he was unable to stop, as if he wanted to share everything with Spike.
Spike leant on Angel, taking his hand. "You know that you can't get rid of me that easily. You've tried often enough."
Whatever was going to happen in the future, they could weather it together. Sometimes it was how you dealt with things that mattered, not what you did. ****
Angel's hands were trying to remove his clothes and he was trying to do the same, only they kept getting caught up. "You've always gotta try to help." Angel laughed.
Spike smiled back and threw his arms over his head, "So you do it, then."
Angel didn't waste any time. He stripped off Spike's t-shirt and had him out of his jeans in seconds; his hands petted Spike's hair. His fingers outlined Spike's face, brushing his lips in such a tender and loving way that his senses were overwhelmed.
Spike couldn't believe that Angel would behave like this, just like a gentle and considerate lover.
Spike felt him lean into him, taking so much care, as if he was afraid that his body would crush the slighter frame. He remembered just how much bigger Angel was than him, in every way. He could feel him, hard and insistent against his thigh. For a second, Spike was anxious; it had been so long since he'd done this. There had been no other men apart from Angelus. Not there... true, there had been moments between him and others. However much he protested and fought against Angel's possessive nature he'd never been able to let anyone else do that.
Angel must have seen this scared look as his face softened, eyes dark with desire. He moved in closer to Spike's neck and placed tiny kisses, whispering against the skin. "I'm not going to hurt you, Spike. Please believe me, baby, I'm going to go slow."
Angel trailed a line of kisses and small bites down from his neck, stopping at his chest. Hovering over a nipple he licked at it, taking it into his mouth and sucked hard, teasing it with his tongue. Spike's hips bucked up, desperately seeking contact, while his hands grasped the sheets tightly. Angel smiled against the cool skin at this reaction, and reached blindly over for the lubricant. He popped the lid off the tube and coated his fingers.
Moving his attention further downwards, he kissed Spike's stomach as he tenderly prepared the whimpering, writhing vampire, the other hand gently dancing along Spike's erection. "Need you inside of me. Please. please. Inside . Angel, so good."
Removing his fingers, Angel reached for the lube again, and coated his own cock. He lifted Spike's ass and positioned himself, pausing to make sure that Spike did want this. Angel looked up at Spike, along the body that he wanted to possess utterly. The look of need and love on Spike's face answered his unspoken question. Angel pushed himself slowly in; he heard Spike's gasp, but he wouldn't go any faster. Moving slowly backwards and forwards over that spot, he kept up the slow penetration even though Spike was moaning for more.
"Too slow. Angel. Too slow." Spike cried frantically, trying to pull him as close as possible. He wrapped his legs around Angel, kissing him wherever he could touch him.
"Slow... Better..." Angel continued to move gradually, until Spike was so strung out with the incredible sensations that he wondered just how he could ever survive this exquisite torture.
"God. Angel. Need to come." Angel moved one hand down and grasped the base of Spike's cock tightly, holding off that moment. He'd wanted them to start over again, and this time at least he could be generous and make sure they came together. He wanted this to be perfect, almost like the first time for both of them. He moved quicker, bringing himself nearer. Fast feeling that he was almost there himself, he shifted into game face and bent down, sinking his fangs into Spike at the same time that he released his hold on him.
The blood, the pain, the passion. The feelings came over them both at the same instant. Rocking against each other, melting into one. Exploding. Floating higher. This was exactly what they had both been searching for. The missing part of the other.
Just when Angel thought he could stand no more it began to ease. He fell to one side of Spike, feeling completely drained.
"Beautiful... Go that slow again, love, and I'll bloody stake you." Spike murmured as he turned over, draping an arm across Angel's chest. "Get it through your thick head, Sire or not, we are equals. I get to say what's what now and again."
"Really?" Angel replied complacently, yet his hand moving tenderly over Spike's body told another story.
"Yeah, cause I'm dumb enough to love you."
Possibly not the passionate declaration that Angel wanted, yet he held it close to him, storing it away to warm him later on. He grasped Spike's hand and raised it to his lips, leaving a kiss like a blessing on the palm. "And I'm smart enough to love you back."
END