"Are ya gonna remind me again why we're keepin' 'is jacket?"
      Angel looked up at Doyle, who was standing over his desk. "I told you.
Sentimental value. He can't live without it. It's what we need to get him
here for the spell. I hired someone from Sunnydale to get it, so if Spike
caught him, the guy wouldn't have any way of knowing it's for me. All I told
him was where to drop it off and what Spike looked like."
      "And I still don't see why we're doing this spell, anyhow." Doyle
continued, pacing around the room. He thrust his hands in the pockets of his
snug brown checkered bell-bottoms. "What about all that ''e lives 'is life,
I live mine' stuff you keep sayin'?"
      Angel held back a sigh. "I heard he's having trouble in Sunnydale, unable
to kill humans but able to kill demons. I know what it's like when you're on
the slayer's side." Doyle saw the faraway Buffy-look in his eyes and sat
down, ready for another onrush of slayer memories. "Everyone against you.
You're previous reputation will hold you up there for a limited amount of
time, but eventually you're a reject. Not welcome amongst your own kind. The
thing is, I don't mind it. It's penance for all the wrongs I did. But
Spike... he needs to be the baddest bad around and if he isn't, there's not
much keeping him from staking himself." Angel concluded, looking over at the
Irishman. "I'm worried about him. It's my duty."
      "Speakin' of which, I'd like ta know what all this stuff is between you and
'im, coz if I'm gonna meet the guy I'd like to-" He was cut off by a loud
slam.
      "Where. Is. My. Fuckin'. Jacket."
      Angel and Doyle turned to the door where a rather dishevelled-looking Spike
stood, bottle of whiskey in one hand and pack of cigarettes in the other.
      Doyle looked over at his employer, fear etched on his face. Angel, however,
looked like he was trying to supress a smile. "Spike, how good to see you."
      "I asked you where my-"
      "It's here."
      Spike closed the door behind him and walked into the office. "Well why did
you take it? And give it 'ere!" He held a hand out expectantly.
      Doyle stood up and took it in his own, shaking it warmly. "I'm Doyle."
      Spike tore his fiery glare from his sire to the man in front of him. He
looked him up and down. "Did we just do the time warp? Cuz if we did, I'd
like to go 'ome and get my Rocky Horror costume, mate..." He grinned broadly
and stepped back in order to fully examine the half-demon's attire.
      Doyle looked nervously at Angel. To his relief, the vampire stepped in
between him and the peroxide blond. "Look, Spike. Doyle's clothing aside, I
need to talk to you. That is, if you still want your duster back." He raised
his eyebrows almost teasingly.
      Spike scrunched his nose up childishly. "Course I do. Talk if you 'ave to."
      "Okay then. Come downstairs." Angel led the way to the elevator and as his
head descended below the floor, he caught a grin on Doyle's face before he
disappeared above him.
      He stepped out and made his way to the kitchen. Busying himself with
preparing blood, he didn't notice Spike wandering around his room. "So when
did the great poof discover his love for interior designing?" The vampire
called from somewhere to his left.
      "I just like to make it a habitable environment for visitors." Angel said
in his regular way, ignoring the minor insult and annoying name he had been
called.
      Spike wandered into Angel's bedroom. He'd really gone all out. Sheets,
pillows, lamp, side table, even a cabinet. What on earth did he need a
cabinet for? Opening the top drawer, Spike saw about five folded silk shirts
and sighed. He needed the cabinet for clothes. How sad...
      Angel appeared in the doorway. "Find something interesting?"
      Spike turned to look at his sire. "No, course not. You never keep anything
interesting in your cabinets anymore. They're a bloody bore if you ask me."
      Angel handed him a mug of warm blood. Taking a sip of his own, he sat on
one side of his bed. "I wasn't joking when I said I needed to talk to you."
      "Shoot then, oh great poof of little words..."
      Angel rolled his eyes and then turned them to focus on his childe's, a
tactic he knew made him shut up, or at least grow uneasy. Spike tried to
show him up by looking him in the eye back, but it didn't affect the older
vampire in the slightest. "I've heard lately from various... sources... that
you not being able to bite isn't the only thing hindering you right now."
      "Who told you that-"
      Angel ignored him and continued in his steady voice. "I hear that you're
able to hurt demons and have been aiding Buffy and her friends. I know you
don't set out to kill demons every night, but you have to admit you're
killing more than you used to right now."
      Spike fumed at him before realizing it had no adverse affect, and instead
looked to the floor. "Yah. So?"
      "Well we both know demons don't like being killed by their own kind, and I
even hear that a few of them attacked you at Willy's not too long ago. I
know what it's like to be rejected by your own kind. And although I'm
alright with it, I know you can't live much longer like this..."
      "I can 'old my own." Spike said defensively, although he was still staring
at his boots.
      "I know. And that's why I want to help you become a real vampire again."
      For once Spike lifted his gaze from his boots and looked into his sire's
eyes, the contempt so often burning in his own blue ones momentarily gone.
"Really?"
      Angel nodded. "Yes. It's a spell."
      Spike seemed to regain his cocky composure and leaned back on the bed.
Grinning good-naturedly he raised a hand in the air. "What does it do?"
      Angel had to resist chuckling at this classic display of his childe's
behavior. "Well it involves a bit of a spell, but mostly... I have to help.
The spell will momentarily make you human, and then you'll be made a vampire
again. Now to conserve all the skill and strength you've learnt, we couldn't
have you come back as a fledgling, so we've dug through some books to find a
humanizing spell that will sort of make you a super human - with all the
vampiric aspects, except bodily organs and so on."
      Spike blinked. "That actually makes sense."
      "Well that's the general idea. So what do you think?" Angel asked
tentatively.
      "Fine with me, as long as I don't get 'urt." Spike sat up. "So who's gonna
turn me?"
      "Normally vampires don't hire themselves out to turn people, so I became
the first choice." Angel said, shrugging ever so slightly.
      Spike raised his eyebrows suggestively. "You gonna turn me again then, pet?
Love to see 'ow it turns out compared to last time."
      Angel remembered what he was referring to. The blood, the gore, the sex...
it had been one hell of a night. "I guess we'll just have to wait until the
time comes, then." He said, getting another grin from Spike.
      "When is that time, anyway?" Spike asked
      Angel smiled the biggest he had for a while. "In about five hours."
 

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