Rating- PG-13
Warning- None really. There will be some language and a little bit of childe/sire stuff. If sniffing squicks you, turn away now. (Oh, and there is quite few ellipses (.) because Angel has quite a few unfinished thoughts. I don't usually write like that. It just helped the story along.)
Description: The apocalypse is diverted. Spike is at the Hyperion. Spike is different. Angel is different. Can they put differences aside or at least learn to accept them?
Feedback- Yes, please.
Disclaimer: I don't own BTVS or Angel. I don't own Spike or Angel or Conner, but if I did I would probably not share them. Yes, I'm selfish that way. Oh well. One more thing I would like to say. Bullocks! Yes, bullocks. It's a fun thing to say. Try it. See? Hehe... I never said I was sane.
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Shock. That's what it was. The moment he waltzed (Yes, waltzed. Swagger is too crude a word for what he does.) through the hotel door, I knew something was up and, most likely, it was something nasty. Probably about as nasty as that sneer that had etched itself onto his sharply chiseled face, the moment he saw me behind the hotel counter.
The last time we had seen each other, I was hanging upside down and bleeding from the many different methods of torture he had methodically put me through. Granted, I probably deserved every single bit of it, considering all the terrible things I had done to him so many years before, but still... The demon in me wanted to jump on him and shake him until he was a quivering British mass of peroxide and whimpers, but seeing as how I am the king of containment, I just stood and watched him take in his surroundings.
I knew what he was doing. He was looking to see if anybody else was lurking in the shadows. Apparently, he didn't want anybody to intrude on us... on whatever he had planned, if he had anything planned. This confused me, of course. Spike always had some type of reasoning (no matter how crazy it was) behind whatever he did and there he stood, silently, as if he had no idea what do next. I figured the best thing to do would be to stand there quietly, until he decided to spill what was on his mind. Of course, I'm an impatient devil, so I didn't care what was for the best. "Spike..."
"Now, don't start, Angelus. I need you to be quiet a moment so I can think." I almost laughed at the audacity of the comment. Spike... thinking? Oh, and wasn't that a pretty picture? The brooding look written all over him. Tense muscles, eyebrows drawn tight in concentration, bottom lip worried with blunt teeth, arms crossed across an unmoving chest... What did Spike have to brood about? Spike doesn't brood... But apparently that isn't so, seeing as how there he stood, all glowery and dark. Now, who does that remind me of?
"Spike..." I started again just to be cut short with a soulful glance. Soulful? SOULFUL?! I jumped the counter, with a snarl, and hurled myself at the blonde vampire. I snatched him up and lifted him so that I could stare into his terror-stricken eyes. He hadn't even had time to cry out before I had him trapped in my grasp. Admittedly, this wasn't a bad thing. I wasn't sure what I had to be so angry and long-toothed about... Yet, by this time, I was in full demon visage and completely out of character.
"Angel..." Spike squeaked from his new home in the air. "Angelus..." He actually whimpered, that time. "Sire?" Oh, gods, I wanted to kill something.
I knew something was different about Spike the second he walked through my doors, but something wasn't different... something was changed. Someone or something had changed this creature, my *childe* - - my *favourite* childe -- into something alien to me. I know the things I have said to and about Spike in the past have been nasty and mean spirited, but really... Am I supposed to say I love him? Sure, I had allowed Dru to turn him (under complete supervision, mind you) and I had hunted with him, shared meals, thoughts, play-mates, stories, and hours of bloody massacring fun... I dropped Spike to the ground and turned my back on him as he groaned. Why was it that I was always so close to my demon side, and Spike was always so close to his human side? I stood there pondering until I heard a whisper from behind me.
"Sire?" I looked behind me and my gaze dropped to the vampire at my feet. "Please don't turn your back on me, yet."
I almost melted, at the statement. Yes, that's right. A pool of Angel goo, right there on the floor of the Hyperion lobby. (That *is* what he would think, too -- that I would turn him away without a word.) Instead of melting, however, I decided I should just take a seat before my weakened knees gave out on me and I fell, unceremoniously, in front of the boy.
I don't care what some people say, being dead has its advantages. Like, when you sit on a cold hard floor and realize, even though it would probably be freezing to someone with warm blood rushing through their veins, it is temperate to your unusually cold, pale skin. I looked up from the 'cold' floor and straight into those eyes. Pale blue eyes that incited a riot of emotion in me only moments ago. "Spike..." I was starting to sound like a skipping CD and I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about that. If I only had a one-word vocabulary, I'm pretty sure Spike would not be the word I would take on.
"Sire, I have to tell you some... things." Why wasn't he hating me? Why wasn't he hitting me? Why was he choosing a very uncomfortable place to sit and tell me something that made him so obviously uncomfortable? Well, the last one I could answer myself. I had chosen this place the moment I had dropped him there and he wasn't up to fighting over it. Why? "Angel, are you here?" The confused look on his face almost made me burst into giggles. No, I don't giggle -- but, if I did, I would have at that exact moment.
"Go on." See... Now that wasn't so hard, was it, Angel? No more one word sentences for me, no sir. I could put two words together and make something of it.
". ..and this quest that I had to go through, until I found the cave and the large demon man... big as a bloody building he was... and told me to go through tests and there was fire and knives and fighting until I couldn't see straight... reminded me of that time in China... but when I was almost ready to crawl out of the bleedin' cave... heh, that's funny seein' as how I was the only one bleedin'... and I almost felt like hurling myself into the sunlight when the demon thingie came back and zapped the thing right into me." Spike sat there, staring at me.
He was probably hoping for a reaction of some sort, but apparently I had none to give. Well, first of all, I had missed the beginning of his story. Secondly, even if I hadn't, I don't believe I would have understood a single word the boy said. I shook my head and sighed. What do men say when their wives have been babbling and they don't know what to say? (Ohhh, if Spike knew I had thought that, he would have thrown himself on a stake.) "What?" Uh-oh... Apparently not that.
Spike picked himself up off the ground and screeched, "I just spilled my bleedin' soul out to you and you didn't listen to a bloody word I said?!"
I jumped to my feet. "What?" I said it with a little more agitation this time. "What?" I almost screamed at the boy. If it was possible, he turned even paler at the sound. I swiped my hand over my forehead just to make sure my human face was still intact.
Spike cowered for a moment and then tried, in vain, to regain his footing. He straightened his shoulders and puffed up his chest. "I said..." It came out a very manly squeak, at best. After clearing his throat, he started again. His shoulders weren't as straight and his chest was not so puffy as before, but his voice came out as clear as Evian water. "I said, 'I just spilled out my soul and you didn't even bother to listen'... ya ponce!" He added the last bit, because of that stupid thing with his pride. Always feeling that he needs to have one up on me, and all. I let it slide.
"I think you took a bit of artistic license on that last bit." I narrowed my gaze and pulled Spike close enough to sniff... Yes, I sniffed Spike. I guess you should know that animals know another animal by their scent, and so do vampires. Yes, we have eyes, but I had eyed my childe many times since he walked through that door and nothing looked different, but his scent... That had changed. First of all, the scent of Buffy was all over him. I wasn't even going to acknowledge that, but unbeknownst to me I had emitted a growl and he had heard.
Apparently, the boy has always been smarter than I have given him credit for, and I've always been pretty observant. "I was going to mention that..."
"Shut up." But I never said I was patient. Another sniff. Cigarettes, sweat, blood, whiskey, and girl -- no, lots of girls, young girls. I gave him a quick glance and arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. Another sniff. Willow, Xander, Anya, Giles, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy... I was growling again. After a deep cleansing breath, I bent in one more time. Fear, doubt, sadness, awe, grief, guilt... lots of guilt. I bent back and patted Spike's shoulder, in what I hoped would be taken as a comforting fashion. His shoulders rose and fell, from the deep shuddering breaths he took. He was always so human. Now, more than ever. "Spilled... your soul?"
Spike nodded. His face betrayed every emotion he felt. Every emotion I had just scented on him. Every emotion, except one... need. I could only assume it was the same need I carried around all of the time. Not the need for atonement. Spike is too smart for that.
He knows that there is no way he can ever atone for shoving spikes through people's skulls and ripping out throats, breaking people's necks and wills, bending them to his will and nothing more. Killing children and driving nuns crazy, just to turn them into a monster who speaks of singing star dust and little fairy people who run around lighting fires and eating cats. Hurting the ones you love and loving the ones you hurt, because you're hurting them and you are making them hurt, for you. Need you. You can't atone for it, and you can't fight that feeling that it gave you, but you can damn well try.
I stood there lost in my reverie for minutes on end, before Spike woke me up from that horrible place. "Sire? I know it's a lot to take in, but if you go crazy I don't know what I'll do. That is way too much irony for me, ya know. Taking care of one crazy vampire was enough for any number of lifetimes."
I started and realized I was still holding... no, gripping his shoulder. It looked like it hurt, so I let the pressure off slowly and pulled my hand back to my side. And did he just say taking care of...? Acceptance. You know. That need I was talking about before I went off into crazy Angel world, that place where only the bravest enter and no one survives...
And maybe I do need someone to take care of me. To watch my back and make sure that I'm not getting staked in it. Of course, I can't trust Spike... Not yet. There is that whole torture thing and... Well, didn't I do the same when I was soulless? And what about when I was soulless and crazed? Spike hadn't been around the last few times Angelus had come out to play, but what if he had been? Would it have been better? So many things to think about.
I started to laugh, as I realized how long Spike had been away. Since I had last saw Spike, Gunn had killed a man and slept with an electrical outlet, Wesley had grown a pair, Cordelia had become a Higher Being, tried to destroy the world, and had become pregnant by my son... HA! I was giggling furiously. Who said that I don't giggle? Of course I giggle! My son and heir, who came from Darla! Darla, who was brought back to life and sired by our very own Drusilla! Darla, who with a soul inside -- no matter that it was that of our unborn child -- killed herself so that a baby could live. My son, of whom Spike had no idea. I stopped laughing for a second and thought about how it would be if my two children were to meet. My favourite childe... meeting my biological child... and back to the laughing.
So that brings us to where I am now. Giggling like mad and rolling around on a big, leather couch like a Irish Sheep Hound waiting for its tummy to be rubbed. (Humor me, please.) Spike is sitting in a chair, head in hands, probably wondering why he even came here in the first place, and I have the answer. If I could stop laughing a moment I would tell him, but I'm not sure that's going to happen any time soon.
The truth is, it's the blood. It runs through us and we are linked; no matter how different we are and how far apart we may grow, we are connected. So, whether I like to be linked to this Billy Idol, poetic mamma's boy from London commons, or not... Too bad. Whether he wants to be connected to a 'ponce' and a 'wanker' (with perfectly gelled hair, mind you), or not... So sorry. But the truth is, we have no choice. I couldn't stake him if I wanted to, and he... Well, if he were going to stake me, he would have done it when I was hanging from that ceiling downtown. When I was helpless, when he was soulless.
I've stopped laughing. I look over at him and I can see the searching look on his face. Acceptance. Eh? What do I have to gain... but what do I have to lose? As if on cue, the hotel door opens and in steps my scandalously handsome son, if I do say so myself. Gets it from his mother's side; I'm sure... Hehehe. Hey, I never said I wasn't vain.
Conner, or Stephen, whoever the hell he is today, stops in the doorway and looks over at me, laying prone on the couch, and then at my bleach blonde friend, who I have not forgotten, although he probably wishes I would. The boy takes in as many details as his mortal eyes can, and starts to speak. He stops just to look again. He's almost as perceptive as his dad.
I almost think he knows that Spike is a vampire, just by looking. I mean, Spike does look the part. All dark and porcelain, all at the same time. Conner takes a step into the lobby and then, less gingerly, finishes his walk to the edge of the couch. He's looking down at me and I can feel myself grinning like a fool. "What's wrong?" he asks, as he looks over at Spike. Conner has been through a lot. Stolen as a baby, twice. Helped start an apocalypse, and helped stop said apocalypse. I almost don't think I should throw this one at him, just yet. "Conner, my boy, meet your brother." Hey, I never said I was smart.
::Musings::
I miss Angelus. No, not the kill, maim, end-the-world Angelus. I miss *my* Angelus. I miss my *Sire*. He knew what to do when something went wrong. He knew how to handle unexpected situations. He didn't use gel to make his hair resemble that of a Backstreet Boy. He was predictable. Angel is still -- technically -- my Sire, but he is definitely not Angelus.
First off, Angelus was sane. At least a little sane. Since I've gotten here, Angel has attacked me, dropped me, sniffed me, growled at me, and he... The bloody pouf giggled! How in the world is a guy supposed to think rational thoughts when his bloody Sire breaks out into giggles? I mean, really! Angel does not giggle. Well, he didn't giggle up until yesterday, when he had that emotional breakdown on the couch. Then...
Why did nobody think to tell me that my very own Sire had a son? Yes. A right pillock, the boy is. Keeps his hair all pretty and soft lookin'. Just like his dear old dad. No, I'm not jealous. Why in all heaven and earth would I be jealous? I was first born. Okay, maybe I wasn't sent from the loins of the great poof, Angel, and the mighty bint, Darla, but I was hand chosen... kinda.
Okay, so Drusilla made me, but Angel was there in the background. He was making sure she didn't botch it up. I know that now. Dru was a good vampire. She was soulless and meticulous in her work -- but she was also crazy beyond repair and she had a tendency to make mistakes.
If I had let her, she would have changed a baby or two. She started feeling all maternal around the turn of the century but I stopped her from doing anything... crazy. I think it would be best if I clear my throat and change the subject now.
So, this Connor kid. Seems he got that Cordelia chick pregnant. Okay, I've done some pretty disgusting and weird things in my life... unlife, but that is just too strange. Seeing as how Angel seemed to be acting all cozy with her while the kid was a tot, isn't that just like him sleeping with his mum? Now, let's not bring Dru into this. That is completely different. First off, we were -- I mean, are -- vampires. Second... You know what, I don't have to justify myself. If I hadn't been there with her, at one time, then I wouldn't be where I am now, soulful and at the mercy of my estranged Sire. Dear God, my life sucks. No pun intended.
You know, if I told Angel all my thoughts about this, he would probably laugh. That would be humiliating, having a guy like Angel laugh at me, I mean. If he didn't laugh, he would probably get that thoughtful look on his face and nod his head like he understood everything I was going through. Angel really is horrible when it comes to emotional situations. He either gets all defensive or fangy. Like I care whether he left us all those years ago. I already got more than enough penance from the man. Just so you know, I don't really hate Angel; I'm just a vindictive bastard.
All I ever wanted as a newly sired childe was to make Angelus happy. After the newness wore off, all I wanted was to make Drusilla love me more than Angelus, while making both Angelus and Darla hate me. In the end, Drusilla could never love me as much as she loved our sire, Angelus could never hate me -- although he passionately inflicted all kinds of lovely pains on my hide -- and Darla... Well, she was the only one out of those three I could control in any form or fashion. She was as predictable as London's weather and about as dry as my mum's toast. I can still hear her. "Angelus, I think our boy needs a lesson in reverence." "Darling, have you disciplined the whelp today?" She was a real bitch.
Of course, Peaches was nothing to swoon over either, unless it was from blood loss. He would answer, "Yes, Darla" or "Anything for you, my love" and then he would take me in a back room to whip me, tie me up, or just pound me, until I bled and moaned obscenities between my pleas for mercy. Good times. I'm glad they're over.
Now, the poof expects me to sit here and 'think things over'. Well, I'm obliged to do it. I think a good brooding session is in order for dear, little ol' me. I mean, first all that sniffing, which I am sure he smelled Buffy and the rest of the litter, all over me. Buffy... Let's not go there. Then, of course, the growling and the 'little brother', and after the lot of 'em got back from Starbucks -- or whatever place heroes hang out at in the middle of the night -- someone mention a 'Shanshu'. Angel got all glowery and started growling again.
Apparently, he thinks I may steal some type of prophecy that he thinks should belong to him. Well, I'll tell you what; I'm in no hurry to steal his stupid prophecy. I don't wanna be human and I truly don't think the Powers That Be can force that one on me. I will fight it teeth and nail, if I hafta. I'm not working for repentance. I'm working to keep the ones I love safe and I'm working so I don't die of boredom. I know the things I did as a soulless vampire and I can only be sorry for them once. After a while, the repentance thing gets old. I wish Angel could see it the way I do.
So, he was a ruthless son-of-a-bitch vampire, with a tendency to kill people in unspeakable ways. That's what vampires do. It was in his nature to be a ruthless killer. (The son of a bitch part was all him, though.) I mean, you can't expect a caterpillar to just crawl around for the rest of its life and not turn into that little cocoon thing, can you? At some point, the butterfly has to spread its wings, right? I think I know why Angel has such a hard time letting go of his past. It's his soul. Well, duh, let me elaborate. His soul was cursed onto him. Like a muzzle being put onto a dog. From what I can tell, Angel is his soul. Yes, there is Angelus (crazed, end-the-world Angelus) right under his skin, but Angel is his soul. His soul is beautiful, in its own way, always wanting to save the world, and it is so strong, always fighting his biggest adversary, Angelus, who always wants to end the world... In other words, he is the worst case of crazy that I have ever seen.
I, on the other hand, went searching for my soul and it was entwined with my demon. It wasn't muzzled; it was tranquilized. My soul isn't trying to fight for control with my demon, and vice versa. They are one and they are me. So, yeah I feel bad about the havoc and mayhem I've caused, and I am prone to do some of it again -- minus the killing -- because I'm only little less than human, after all.
I'm not Batman, looking for revenge on a world gone bad, I'm not Superman, looking to save the world from itself, and, as sure as heaven is up, I am not Angel looking to save the world from myself. I am Spike: a good-looking, cocky, British vampire, with a leer that could make the most uninhibited libertine blush.
Who should I be looking for forgiveness from? Those that I killed? They're dead. The Powers? They're the reason I'm here in the first place. Buffy? I was there when she needed me. Angel? Well, there are mixed emotions on that one. First, he's the reason I am what I am. Part of me says screw you and the other says thank you. If he feels that he deserves an apology, too bad. I won't apologize to him and he better make sure he doesn't try apologizing to me. I don't wanna hear it.
I would like an apology from 'little brother', though. He was handing me a mug of blood and spilled it on my jacket. From what I hear, the kid isn't big on the clumsiness, so I'm guessing he did it on purpose. If he wants to push my buttons, fine -- but he better be sure I'll push his too, and probably twice as hard. He thinks he can do annoying? Ha! He doesn't know who he is dealing with. As a young childe, I found as many ways to annoy Angelus as I could. I could teach him a thing or two... Well, there's an idea. I could have a sort of brother/brother quality time thing with the kid and teach him how to ride his daddy's nerves till they just about snap. Now, that's what I call a good time!
Angel would bust a vein, if he knew what I was thinking. He should have thought twice about sending me over to my own corner to brood. Almost wish he would come over here and brood with me. Instead, he just spares me a few glances and hopes I don't notice. But I notice. He's worried that I'm going to go all crazy and kill things, just to spite my soul. Been there, done that. I don't like reruns, thank you. He thinks this is his fault. Well, yeah it is, but I wish he would stop taking all of my problems on himself, like he cared or something. Okay, it's not his fault, but it makes it easier on me to say it is and if that's wrong I don't care.
He's looking at me again. I can feel it. It's like my skin tries to crawl off my frame, every time he does that. I look up and catch him staring. Heh. Isn't that precious? He looks worried and slightly embarrassed for being caught. I could say some caustic remark, but I think I'll just grin and make him wonder what I'm thinking about. What am I thinking about? Mostly, why am I here? Yep, that about sums it up. I'm sure Angel has some blindingly simple idea why I'm here. He's probably right about it too. Unless it's some crap about atonement and repentance, although I doubt he would ever assume either of those as a possibility. It's been a while, but I'm sure he knows me a little better than that.
The boy is staring at me, now. I'm feeling heat and ice hitting me, at the same time. A strange needling sensation is rolling right up my spine. I'm pretty sure that he hates me. It's probably because I'm a vampire. There are a lot of vampire haters out there -- with good reason, mind you. Vampire killed their sister, turned their cousin, drained their dog...
Vampires aren't picky about what they snack on, as long as it's warm and they are in a hurry. Well, most vampires aren't. I was raised by a ponce, so I'm kinda particular about my dining habits. Or, at least, I was. Now, I pretty much feast on the bovine special. Angel likes that. Thinks it's funny. He likes to watch me drink, I believe, almost as much as Angelus liked to watch me feed. Strange comparison, I know, but think about it. Angelus liked to watch me feed, no matter how sloppy or pretty of a job I made of it. It made him feel all strong and powerful to know that he was the reason I was there, taking life. I really don't know what Angel gets out of watching me drink cow's blood. He probably just gets a kick out of the fact that I cringe every time I take a sip. He always did have a twisted sense of humor.
Uh-oh. Angel is heading this way. He's running his hand through his hair in that 'I have something uncomfortable to talk about' way. I hate that. Angelus did that. Of course, it meant something different then. I'm going to pretend that I don't care that he is standing over me, until he says something important.
He clears his throat and sighs. Although breathing is truly lost on him, he sighs quite a lot. "Spike, you're starting to scare me." Well, that's a new one. I look up at him and take in the tender look he's giving me, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to kill myself, now. I'm quite positive that is not what I expected him to say, but I guess it deserves an answer.
How should I start? "Something wrong, Sire?" Egad, if I don't stop calling him Sire, he is going to think he has rights to beating my ass. "I mean, I'm just doing what you told me to do." That's right. How about let's remind him of what he said and then pointing out how compliant I've suddenly become. I'm sure that won't incite any old Sire/Childe feelings in the old boy.
I'm starting to wonder if I'm beginning to feel all self destructive when Angel breaks in. "Spike, you never do what I tell you to do. Why are you now?" The poof really is worried.
I'm tired. I'm sick and tired of trying to reassure this bloody fool, just because he is feeling unsure. I refuse to grace him with a response. He can stand there and look confused all he wants, I don't care. That's right, dear old Spike has ceased to care a wit. Oh, good. Glower a little for me, Angel. That'll make me spill my heart out to you. Who do you think I am? Penn? Now, with that cool look of indifference? Please! Like I didn't teach you that one! I turn away from him. It's all I can do, not to tell him everything that I've been thinking in my lonely little musings over here.
"Come on, Spike. Answer me." Ha! Like his Sire voice is going to get me to talk. "Why are you listening to me now? I thought you got a soul in Africa, not a brain." And then he threw down the gauntlet!
"Dear God, man! What do you want from me?" I'm on my feet now and I'm pretty sure I'm screaming obscenities into Angel's smiling face. To tell the truth, I'm not quite sure what words are coming out of my mouth, but Angel has the gall to look pleased with himself. "...I should kill you for all of the shit you've put me through..." I stop to take a breath, not because it's necessary, just to emphasize my statement. "...in these last few days alone." I say it on a sigh. Angel is nodding, that smile firmly set on his jowls, and I want hurt him so bad, I can feel my fangs lower. "I thought the whole Connor thing was wigging you out."
"Whoa... Wigging me out? Sound like Buffy, much?" I guess the reference to 'you know who' was uncalled for, but Angel is being a prick so I am being the 'equal and opposite reaction' to his 'action'. "And who says it's Connor? Maybe it's you, Mr. big, dark, and morose."
I push at Angel and he's shifting on his feet, still grinning like a fool. "Big, dark, morose... It's in the job description. One thing bothers me, though. You forgot to add intelligent and painfully handsome."
I can't help but crack a smile at this and I look at the ground, hoping to hide the grin that's threatening to split my face in two. "Or maybe just a pain." I answer, with my own jest.
You know what? Maybe things are going to be all right. I mean, a guy can only brood so much, even when ordered by his Sire. Plus, don't I have a right to get back to my roots and try to figure out my life... umm, unlife? Angel has already said that his home is my home and I really should get to know my new brother... but, if Angel thinks that this means I'm going to obey him and his every whim, he has another think coming.
I won't go on any quests for the Powers, unless I feel the need to do so. I'm not going to replace my boots with a different pair of shoes, although they cause scuff marks on the lobby floor. I'm not going to curb my appetite for beer and those onion flower things, just because Angel finds it distasteful for me to be manly. I won't wear clothing to bed, even if it might accidentally scandalize one of the ladies of the house... Connor included.
I'm going to be tough to live with. I'll be downright pissy, most likely. But I'll tell you a secret. Angel isn't exactly the simplest guy to live with, and he certainly is not easy to understand, even when you're standing in his stylish yet affordable shoes. Knowing this makes it so much easier for me to look up into my Sire's face and know that it's going to be okay -- even if it's only for this little while.
Hey, I had to deal with this drama queen forever and a day; the least he can do is take care of me while I'm trying to settle my soul. I wanna say, 'Payback's a bitch, ain't it?' but it won't come out. He's still laughing and the boy is looking at his old man like the world is suddenly full of butterflies and kittens and everything's good and right with the world, and I can't say it.
And, all of a sudden, I know why I am here. I was searching for Angel and what I knew was the impossible, the unattainable. Acceptance. I realize now, that it is instantaneously the possible and the attained. When this epiphany hits me, I find myself fighting not to hug the big git. I mean, I'm happy, but I'm not crazy. Hell, life throws you for a loop sometimes, but you know what... I guess that's not so bad.
That's the End of Spike's Musings.