Spoilers: Season 4 of BTVS and Season 1 of Angel:TS but nothing real
specific.

****************

Wesley was quiet for precisely fourteen minutes, seven seconds. Angel knew
this because he timed it. As soon as they topped the ramp and entered the
freeway that would take them back into the city, Wesley broke the silence.

"Angel-. I'm afraid I don't understand everything that has happened
tonight. What were you doing at Mr. Worthington's house?"

Spike broke his silence of a record setting fifteen minutes by answering
for Angel. "Rescuing you, you twit."

"But I didn't need rescuing! I was perfectly fine! I was investigating a
case and Worthington was very understanding when I made the faux pas of
accusing him outright of being a forger. He was very gracious and -"

"And he invaded your mind without your consent or knowledge and found out
about your connection to me." Angel finished for him.

"WHAT! That is not true! I would have known-. I never said a word about
you. I think you are angry that I was working on one of your cases without
permission. I must remind you once again that I am not a child-."

"Wesley! I could care less if you want to work on cases. In fact, take any
one you want. I know you are more than capable. BUT YOU DIDN'T TELL ANYONE
WHERE YOU WERE GOING!"

Spike raised a surprised eyebrow at Angel's outburst. Angel *never * raised
his voice. He made lovely noises in bed that were rather loud, but never,
ever, did he raise his voice in anger, especially to his pet humans. "Uh..
Angel- maybe should pull over and I'll drive us the rest of the way."

After a moment, Angel shook his head. "No, I'm fine. But.. maybe you should
call Cordelia and let her know Wesley is with us. She's probably worried
herself into a frenzy."

Spike nodded and picked up the phone off the dash trying to remember how
Angel had gotten the office the last time.

"I'm sorry, Angel. I didn't realize you would worry this way." Wesley's
voice held genuine regret.

Spike snorted and poked at the tiny buttons on the face of the phone. "For
some reason he's fond of you, Weasel. The chit, too. I don't see what the
big deal is myself. If some loony immortal midget something or other wants
to hold you for ransom-.I say let him have you."

"Ransom? I was being held for ransom? When did this happen?" Wesley reached
over the seat and snatched the phone out of Spike's hand. He pushed the
correct button and handed it back, earning a snarl from Spike for his
trouble.

Angel took a deep breath and let it out, determined not to loose his temper
again. "You were working the same case as we were. We both came to the same
conclusions by different means. But Worthington is not quite human. I don't
know what he is, but- he's old.. older than I am. Not a vampire, not a
demon - or at least none I've ever encountered before- and he was holding
you in a pleasant prison from the moment you accused him of being a forger.
He influenced your mind, made you tell him who you were and anything else
he wanted to know and then he made you forget that you'd told him
anything."

"I'm afraid I still don't understand. What was the ransom demand?"

"A promise. Here, talk to the wench and tell her not to screech in my ear
again if she knows what's good for her." Spike handed Wesley the phone and
rubbed his ear.

"Hello? Cordelia?-"

'Wesley! What the hell is the matter with you? Have you gone completely
MENTAL?'

"Uh.. no, I don't believe so. I apologize for making you worry. I was
perfectly safe-."

'That's NO excuse! You are so going to get it, buster. Don't you EVER be
gone like that without checking in. I thought you were- were-'

"Please, I'm sorry.. don't.. don't cry Cordelia.. please- I won't ever do
it again. I-"

Spike rolled his eyes, tuned out the conversation in the back seat and
looked out the window. They were almost back to Wesley's apartment. Good.
That meant they would be leaving the twit and going home alone. Hopefully
Cordelia would be gone by that time, too. He turned to study the much more
interesting scenery in the drivers seat. ((Hmm.. looking pretty tense- but
at least he's not brooding- Yet- and if I have my way, he won't get a
chance to start. Damn! Does he always look that good when he's angry- ))

Angel watched Spike out of the corner of his eye, wondering what was
occupying his Childe so well that he hadn't started tormenting Wesley.
((Wesley.)) Angel clenched his jaw and started listening again to the
conversation in the back seat. Cordelia was practically yelling, so even a
human would have little trouble hearing her side of the conversation.

"..Yes, I remember what happened- and again, I can only apologize for my
thoughtlessness. I just didn't realize I would be missed so soon-"

'Of course you were missed! Oooo- I'm just so-. You are totally going to be
making the coffee around here for at least a week! Tell Angel I'm going
home now and Wesley..'

"Yes, Cordelia?"

'I'm glad you're okay. I'll see you tomorrow and you can tell me just how
mad Angel was when he found you. Bye!'

"Yes.. uh-." The line was disconnected before Wesley could say any more.

Angel pulled over to the curb in front of Wesley's apartment and cut the
engine. He forced himself to relax a little but continued to stare straight
ahead through the windshield.

"Angel, what did you have to promise?"

"Nothing. Now go and get some sleep. We'll talk about Worthington
tomorrow-. well, later today, I guess, since it's nearly four." Angel
glanced at Spike and then finally turned to look at Wesley. "*Very * much
later today, okay?"

A blush stained Wesley's cheeks as the meaning of Angel's words became
clear to him. "Yes, late- but-"

"No 'buts'. We'll talk about it later-." Angel motioned for Spike to let
Wesley out.

"Very well, Angel. I will see you late this evening at the office." Wesley
exited the car and fumbled in his pocket for his keys. Once he found them,
he went to the door of his building and went inside.

Angel waited until he saw the light come on in Wesley's apartment before
starting the engine and pulling away from the curb.

"Why didn't you tell him?"

Angel didn't take his eyes off the road. "Tell him what?"

"What we had to do to get him released."

"I will tell him, when I'm calmer and there's more time. I just didn't want
him to get all self-sacrificing and run back to Worthington to make him
take it back."

"No- self-sacrifice is your thing. Can't have anyone cutting in on that,
can we?"

"He walked through a solid wood door."

"Who what?"

"Worthington. He- went *through * the wood. Like a ghost or something."

"Oh. Well, that explains why we didn't hear him come in the first time."

"That doesn't bother you at all? That he can do that? I mean, what is he?
Why would he have met Darla, why would he have kept track of me? And he
knew who you were, too."

"Of course it bothers me! But it's not like I can change it, can I?" Spike
snapped.

After a moment, Angel sighed and shook his head. "No, I guess not."

"And he can't be too evil or Cordelia would have had a vision or something
about him, right?"

"I suppose."

"You know, Angel, if you weren't a vampire you'd probably have an ulcer or
be dead of a heart attack by now. You worry way too much about things you
can't change."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Cordelia and Wesley are human. They are going to die no matter what you do
unless you turn them and even that is not a guarantee of survival."

"I know that, Spike." Angel said it without anger. He'd thought about that
fact many times but it didn't make it any easier or make him worry any
less.

"Then what the bloody hell is your problem? And don't put me off again, I
can't understand unless you tell me what's going on."

Angel pulled into the parking garage of his building and quickly found a
parking space. "It's very simple Spike. I had a friend- Doyle, you met him
I think- he died. I don't think I can stand to loose anyone else-.
especially if it's my fault that they die."

"You killed your friend? Did you go evil again?" Spike asked skeptically.

"No, I didn't kill him, but it was still my fault. It should have been me."

"Okay, I think you're going to have to explain a little more. But not here.
Let's go inside, hmm? I could use a drink."

******************

Spike lay sprawled on the couch, bottle of vodka in one hand, cigarette in
the other. He'd been listening to Angel tell his tale of woe for the last
hour and he was getting to the limits of his ability to keep quiet and
actually pay attention.

Angel was in his favorite leather chair, taking an occasional sip from the
glass of vodka that Spike had convinced him would do him good. Where Spike
had found the bottle was a mystery to him, but for once he was glad for it.

The words had come slowly at first, mostly because he was sure that Spike
would interrupt every five seconds with a rude comment. But, much to
Angel's surprise, he didn't. He actually seemed to be listening, even if he
didn't seem particularly sympathetic. And now, an hour later, Angel was
coming to the end of his self-perceived sins since settling in L.A.

Spike sat up and stubbed out his latest cigarette. "Is that all of it?" He
looked into Angel's eyes and waited for an answer.

"Yes, I think so. Isn't that enough?"

"Apparently."

"What?"

"Still the same old Angelus, even with a soul everything still revolves
around you."

Angel frowned in confusion. "I don't expect you to really understand-. but
you wanted to know, so-"

"Oh, I understand, but I don't think *you * do. You always were the
possessive type, Angelus. Doyle's death wasn't your fault and you know it.
Wesley and Cordelia are *helping* you of their own free will. You didn't
force them into anything. If something goes well, it's a victory for the
'white hats'. If something goes badly, it's your fault." Spike rose from
the couch and went to sit on the floor between Angel's legs, resting his
hands on his Sire's hard thighs. "You're mad at Wesley for the same reason
you used to get mad at me."

"I don't know what you're talking about Spike. It * was* my fault, all of
it-"

Spike cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Yeah, yeah, yeah.. I
get it, already! No, your problem is that you have decided that the humans
are part of your family and you don't like it when others hurt what belongs
to you. Doyle died without your permission. People hurt Cordelia and Wesley
without your permission. You always hated it when your family had a mind of
their own and *that * is why you are trying to keep them on such a short
leash. They don't understand all the rules, Angel, so you can't blame them
for not following them."

"I do think of them as family but-.. I just don't want them to be hurt
either by their association with me or *by * me."

"Then get rid of them. That's the only way you won't have to worry over
what happens to them. Out of sight, out of mind."

Angel's hand drifted to Spike's head and gently stroked his hair. "That
didn't work with you."

Spike snorted and brushed Angel's hand aside. "Oh, please! Don't try to
change the subject and play that 'you were always my favorite' game with
me, I got enough of it a century ago. You forgot me every time you walked
out the door in search of a diversion, especially the last time. It's only
now that you're horny and I can't kill anyone that you give a damn about
me."

"That's not true, Will- I-"

Standing abruptly, Spike stalked over to the couch, grabbing up the nearly
empty bottle of vodka before throwing himself down onto the cushions. "Look
Peaches, that doesn't matter now. I'm not going to get all weepy about the
past or brood about 'what might have been', that's your gig." He spun the
top off the bottle and gulped down the remains of the fiery liquid. "No
matter what you might think of me, I'm not stupid and I know why I've been
allowed to stay. Besides, we weren't talking about me."

"You don't know as much as you think you do, boy. I never will understand
how your mind works, Spike. I'm not even sure you understand what's going
on in there sometimes." Angel settled deeper into his chair and sighed.
"You're here because you came to me for help. You were allowed to stay
because you are my Childe. You sleep in my bed every day because I-" Angel
hesitated long enough for Spike to interrupt with a harsh laugh of
disbelief.

"Because you what? Own me? You're lonely? Because I won't break if you get
a little too rough? Spit it out, pet."

"All of those things, yes. But I also care about you, Will."

Spike cocked his head and studied Angel intently for a long moment before
getting up and heading for the bedroom. "Great."

"Where are you going?"

Without turning, Spike stopped and answered. "I'm going to have a shower
and get in bed. Maybe by that time you'll have come out of romantic
fairytale land long enough to fuck me into unconsciousness." He continued
on his way, swaying only slightly from the alcohol he'd consumed.

Angel was on his feet and across the room before he had even really decided
on the action. He grabbed Spike and shoved him against the wall, face
first, trapping the blonde's arms against his body. He leaned against the
smaller man's back with the entire length of his body, giving Spike no
opportunity to struggle. When he felt his Childe relax against the wall,
Angel moved his head until his mouth was right next to Spike's ear.

"I may not understand the way your mind works, Spike, but I *do * know when
you're avoiding something."

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, you poof. Now let go of
me!"

"That's just what I mean. You revert to calling me those names. I start
talking about us and suddenly you can't remember my name."

"I remember your name, you prick, so shove off." Spike tried to move Angel
off of him but the larger man wouldn't budge.

"Why does it bother you to talk about your feelings? I know you have them
so don't even bother saying you don't. You were always jealous of the time
I spent with Darla and Dru. You were jealous when Penn came around. And I
bet you were even jealous of Buffy."

Spike scoffed at Angel's words. "I was never jealous of Penn. Him I just
hated."

Angel continued as if Spike had never spoken. "So now, through several
twists of fate, you finally have me all to yourself, we are more alike than
we ever were before and you can't admit that you have the slightest
affection for me at all. Why is that Spike? Hmm?"

"I'm a demon, remember? I don't have a pesky soul that makes me want to
recite love poems and prance around making googly eyes at you."

"So that wasn't you staring at me in the car earlier? That wasn't you who
agreed to be tied to me to get Wesley released? That wasn't you taking care
of me when I was hurt? And it certainly isn't you that I wake up wrapped
around every afternoon, is it?"
 

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