*~*~*~*

Angel couldn't help but growl as he watched the love of his unlife, the
woman
of his daily dreams, shuffle the papers on her desk for the thousandth time.
He
appreciated neatness as much as the next guy, but she was taking it to a new
level. "Delia...stop...please. "

"I just want everything to be perfect when they get here." The brunette
huffed,
her brown eyes flashing as she fixed him with a steely glare.

"And shuffling those papers, -again-, is going to make it -perfect-?" Angel
snickered, coming to stand behind his receptionist. "You're acting like you
haven't seen them in years.... It's only been a month." He massaged her
shoulders gently, easing the knots of tension away. "And they -have- seen
the
office before, it isn't anything new."

"I know, I know," She sighed, leaning back into his talented hands. "Its
just...this is the first time -we've- hosted their little movie night and I
want everything to be..."

"Perfect?" The vampire chuckled, leaning down to brush a kiss across her
forehead. "And its not like we're hosting movie night. We're going to the
theater and they're staying here for the weekend." She sighed and he smiled
softly, glad to see the stress leaking out of her. "Did they ever decide
what
movie we were going to see?"

Cordelia frowned, her brow creasing in thought. "Some sort of animated clay
thing that Willow wanted to see...um..."Running with..." no that's not
it...its
on the tip of my tongue..."

" 'Chicken Run' " Spike smirked, leaning against the door frame, laughing
blue
eyes fixed on his sire. "And we're going to be late if we don't hurry, mate.
Willow's waiting in the car."

If he could, Angel would have paled even further.

*~*~*~*

Willow eagerly scanned the posters on the side of the theater. She slipped
her
hand into Spike's, sighing contently. She couldn't believe everything that
had
happened over the last few months. She had fallen in love with Spike. She
never felt happier, or safer, for that matter. She knew that he would never
let anything hurt her.

Behind her, Cordelia growled softly. She tugged on Angel's hand.
"Come -on-,
Angel! It's just a movie." He was standing on the sidewalk, refusing to
budge. He absolutely was dead set against going in the theater. He found
himself wondering how he allowed his childe and his girlfriend to lead him
to
the car.

Angel stared angrily at the back of Spike's head. Damn his childe! < He
knows
how I feel . . . > "Cordelia, you just . . .I can't explain . . .It's not
going to be a good thing if I see this movie."

Cordelia turned around, frowning. She couldn't figure out what was wrong
with
Angel. "What's the matter, honey? Are you scared of chickens or
something?"

Angel's lips pressed together and the snort of laughter from Spike made
Cordelia's eyes widen. "You are scared of chickens?" she asked in
disbelief.

Angel narrowed his eyes at Spike, glaring at the mirth in those fathomless
depths. "I hate you, Spike. I really do. Only you would take someone's
fear
and turn it on them."

Spike crossed his arm, getting angry with his Sire. He knew of the fear,
Darla
had told him bits and pieces when he was first turned. He never knew the
whole
story, but didn't think the fear was that great. "I learned from the
Master,"
he hissed, his words dripping with coldness.

Angel's eyes hardened. Spike had hit a cord. He closed his eyes, willing
his
demon back down. It wouldn't be good to vamp on the Los Angeles sidewalk
and
drag his wayward childe into the back alley and show him just what a Master
was. "I'm going home." He turned to walk away.

Cordelia frowned angrily. "This little show of machoism and fear is only
ruining our night! I wanted everything to be perfect for Willow and Spike."
She crossed her arms as tears filled her eyes. "They've only been good to
us,
and now you are ruining it!"

Angel turned back to Cordelia, softening. "I'm sorry, Cordelia." He looked
down. "They are just clay, right? Not real chickens?"

"No, not real chickens," Willow inserted, hoping to smooth out the
situation.
She glared angrily at the smug look on Spike's face. < He seemed too eager
to
watch the movie! Why didn't he -tell- me Angel was scared of chickens? And
what the -hell- made him scared? > "Please, Angel?" She batted her eyes at
him, hoping that her playful flirting look would work on Angel like it did
Spike.

Spike growled softly, seeing -his- witch give -his- Sire a look that was
reserved for him. He rolled his eyes. "Yea, come on, Sire," he said with a
monotone voice. "Red wants to see the movie."

*~*~*~*

Looking around the theater at the tacky curtained walls, the dull artificial
lighting and trash littered floor, Angel knew he -had- to be back in Hell.
He
leaned back in the small, uncomfortable chair, stretching his legs out in
front
of him as if he could brace himself for the movie to come. His foot hit
something squishy and he pulled it back, grimacing with disgust at the neon
pink gum stuck to it. Could the night possibly get any worse?

Cordelia glanced over at her boyfriend when the growling started and nearly
jumped out of her skin. "Fix your face," she hissed, her eyes sweeping the
theater, glad for the almost nonexistent lighting. It didn't look like
anyone
had seen the twisted ridges and bumps of the demon sitting next to her and
for
that alone she silently sent up a small thanks to TPB. Having someone scream
'monster' would be a sure-fire way to ruin the evening. < Even more than it
already has been, > she thought, reflecting on her love's little scene
outside
the theater.

"Sorry..." Angel sighed, his face slipping back into its human mask just as
the
lights went down and the huge screen flared to life. He jumped slightly,
grabbing onto Cordelia's hand. A few ads were flashing across the screen,
lighting up the darkness. This was it - chickens in all their glory parading
around on a screen larger than some houses.

"Angel." Cordelia muttered, trying to pull her hand away. "Angel,
ow...honey..." She whimpered slightly, his grip on her hand increasing.
"ANGEL!" He jumped, releasing her hand long enough for her to pull it out of
his reach. "It's just the previews, stop being a baby." She massaged her
hand,
flexing her fingers to see if anything was broken.

The knowledge that this wasn't the actual film did little to ease the
vampire's
mind as he shifted in his chair, trying to get comfortable. It was going to
start soon. And there would be chickens on the screen, bigger than life.
Sure,
they were made of clay, but they were still -chickens-. "I need something to
eat..." He said suddenly, sitting up in his chair, much to the annoyment of
the
movie goers behind him. "Some bon bons. You want anything, guys?"

Spike raised his eyebrows at his sire's behavior. This was really
ridiculous.
Even after a couple centuries the wanker was still afraid of a few little
feathered egg-layers. He fought back the tide of laughter that was
threatening
to rise in his throat. "No, Peaches, we're fine." < Bon bons, he couldn't
have
just said popcorn, > the blonde snorted, < What a bloody poof. >

"Have mine, Angel." Willow offered, shoving the box of chocolate covered ice
creams at him. Her face was awash with concern. She didn't know what the
deal
with Angel and chickens was, but it was obvious Spike did. Glaring at the
blonde she settled back in her seat.

Angel tapped the box against his palm, debating what to do. He could see the
beginning credits starting to roll out of the corner of his eyes. Shaking
the
ice creams into his hand he shoved them quickly in his mouth, crumpling the
empty box. "Need more," He mumbled, mouth full, to the astonishment of his
friends. "Be right back."

"Why is he so scared of chickens?" Willow whispered to the blonde haired
vampire next to her. She had never seen Angel -scared-. He was one of the
most
feared vampires -ever- for goddess' sake.

Spike chuckled softly, putting his arm around the red head's shoulders and
pulling her in to lean her head on his chest. His sire wouldn't be too
pleased
if he told the red head about the source of his chicken-fear. That fell
under
the realm of 'history' and something the blonde knew he shouldn't discuss. <
All the more reason to do it, > he grinned. "I'll tell you later, pet."

*~*~*~*

Angel yelped at the first chicken that crossed the screen. He grabbed
Cordelia's hand and held it tightly. His girlfriend glanced over at him,
truly
worried about the way the night was going. "Angel," she whispered.

"Cordelia," he looked at her with frantic eyes. They softly glowed in the
theater. "I've got to get out of here! I can't . . .Oh my god, I can't stay
here." There were chickens all over the screen.

"Angel, why are you so scared of chickens?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes. He couldn't relive the memory, not
here,
not in the middle of the tacky theater. He stood up, crashing into the
seats
in front of him. "Hey!" the couple cried. "Sit down!"

Angel looked around frantically, letting demon fully come to fore. He had
to
get out of the theater. Damn if Cordelia wasn't blocking his escape!
"Cordelia," he hissed through fangs. "Get up!"

Cordelia sighed, standing up. He pushed past her, dropping to a crouch in
the
aisle. He glanced at her. "I'm sorry, I can't do this." He sprinted through
the theater, getting away from the oversized clay chickens.

Spike laid his head back, his laughter echoing through the theater. The
other
patrons shushed him. Cordelia and Willow glared at him angrily. "Come on,
Willow," Cordelia said, grabbing the redhead's hand. "Let's go back home
and
figure out what's wrong with Angel."

Willow glared at her lover. "I'm going back to Angel's. I'll see you
later,
Spike," she hissed.

Spike blinked shocked eyes at her. "I'm not staying here by myself, pet. I
don't care to see the bloody movie." He stood up.

"Would you three -shut- up!" the person behind them cried.

Spike turned angry amber eyes to him. "Shut the bloody hell up, before I
rip
your throat out."

The man stared at glowing eyes in the darkness. "Oh, my god. What are
you?"

"Come on," Willow growled angrily. She grabbed Spike's hand and led him out
of
the theater.

*~*~*~*

The three walked into Angel's apartment. Angel was in the corner, arms
wrapped
around his knees. He was rocking softly. Cordelia went to him, kneeling
beside him. "Angel? Baby, are you ok?"

He looked up at her. "It was horrible," he said softly, his voice like one
of
a frightened child.

"Come on. Come sit down and tell us about it." She helped Angel up and led
him to the couch. The two sat down.

Willow sat on the other side of Angel, making Spike bristle in anger. She
didn't want to sit by him. He knew that she was mad at him and hoped that
he
could somehow make it up to the woman. He sighed. "Sire, it was a joke. Ha
ha. You know, humans have a bloody sense of humor, why can't you?" he
growled
angrily.

"You knew, William," Angel said softly, staring at the wall. "You knew how
I
felt, you knew about my fear. I know Darla told you. And yet you
encouraged
this. You didn't try to stop the night or anything."

Spike glanced down, haunted by the soft voice his sire carried. He hadn't
heard that voice used in over a century. The older vampire would only talk
to
him like that when he was telling the younger man of times past. Only when
he
was opening up and sharing a part of his former life would he talk in such
hushed tones. Spike knew it was rare, and he was the cause of the trip down
the painful memory lane.

"What happened?" Cordelia prodded.

"I was barely four," Angel started, losing himself in the memory. "Darla
and I
had just killed a family at a farm. . .she liked the Irish countryside. She
wanted a farm to stay in for a year or so, then we were going to move to
England. She wanted time with just the two of us."

He chewed on his bottom lip, looking down. < Will I be able to finish the
story? > he thought. He took a deep unneeded breath and continued.

*~*~*~*

"ANGELUS!"

Darla's voice reverberated through the farmhouse.

Angelus looked up from the man he was feeding off of. He grinned, blood
dripping down his chin. He could hear the anger in her voice. He loved it
when
she was angry. It always led to long days of torture and violent sex,
something that Angelus was raised on. He never was a submissive person, but
the thrill of having her tie him down to have her way with him drove him
crazy
with lust.

He stood up, knowing that she was angry. He'd done the worse thing
imaginable.
He knew that she was planning on taking him to her bed the day before, but
he'd brought home one of the barmaids and spent the day with her, showing
her
all the pleasures that he could. He licked his lips, remembering the taste
of
her blood on his lips, filled with lust and fear. It was truly intoxicating.

Darla stormed into the room, her face twisted in anger. Her ridges were
prominent and she was ready to strike.

"Ye beckoned, milady?" he asked with a smirk.

"Angelus," she hissed, her voice dangerous. "I cannot believe that you dared
defied me!"

His smirk grew. "Milady, shall I accompany ye to your chambers?"

She grinned maniacally. "No, Angelus. Let's go outside."

He smiled. "I canna refuse ye, Sire." He followed her out into the still
night. When she made him strip, and lay on the ground, he didn't think
twice
about it. They'd had their fun outside in the night before. This was no
different than any other time. She tied his hands and feet to posts,
leaving
the vampire spread eagle on the ground, his thick cock jutting into the air.
He was thrilled, knowing that tonight would be a night he would never
forget.
He'd never seen her so angry.

She stood up, brushing her dress off. She reached out, grabbing a bag of
seed.
She started to sprinkle it around and on his body. "Darla?" he questioned.

"The chickens are hungry, my dear Angelus," she smiled. "I'll see you
before
sunup." She spun on her heel, walking back to the farm. As she passed the g
ate
holding the chickens back, she flipped the lock, letting them push out to
eat
the seed.

Angelus screamed throughout the night, as the chickens pecked at him. As
the
night wore on, and the beaks cut his smooth alabaster skin, the chickens
grew
rabid, after tasting his blood. They tore at his flesh, flapping their
feathers in the night.

When Darla came to retrieve him in the early twilight, he begged for her
forgiveness and promised not to anger her ever again.
 

*~*~*~*

"Oh. My. Goddess," Willow whispered.

Cordelia wrapped her arm around Angel, who was holding his head in his
hands,
crying. "Shh, baby, it's ok. We are here now. Nothing bad is going to
happen."

He was not going to die at the hands of a small red haired human witch,
Spike
assured himself, watching as said witch rose from the couch and began to
pace
back and forth in front of him. Her small hands were clenched into tight
fists,
emerald eyes flashing with anger. Glad that there was no stakes nearby, the
vampire cleared his throat, "Pet..."

"You knew about this!" The sudden scream pierced the air, drawing looks from
the couch where Cordelia was still soothing Angel. "You -knew- he was
scared.
You -knew- the reason why. Yet you said nothing?"

"I didn't think it was that..."

"You didn't think? Why am I not surprised?" Cordelia's angry voice called
out
from the couch. Seeing Angel this upset was more than a little disturbing.
He
was supposed to be tough, strong, the one who was scared of nothing. Yet,
here
he was, trembling over chickens. She was angrier that she had to witness
this
fear than anything else. It shook the very foundations of what she thought
of
her dark haired lover. He wasn't invulnerable. He had fears just like
everyone
else.

Spike sighed. "Look, chit, Willow wanted to see the bloody movie. I -didn't-
think my sire was still hung up on the little feathered freaks. I -didn't-
think it would cause any harm!" He was almost roaring as he finished.

"And if nothing else you would get a good laugh out of it all, right Spike?"
Angel's voice was cold, his eyes expressionless, as he regarded the younger
vampire. Things had been going so well in his new relationship with his
childe,
-too- well it would seem. He should have known that the blonde was still
just
as malicious as ever.

Willow sighed, her heart heavy. This had to be one of the worst movie nights
ever, and it was all Spike's fault. He could have easily stopped this all
before it started. "I'm going to bed." She looked into her lover's eyes as
she
bent to brush a kiss across his lips. "Make things right with him." Her
voice
was less than a whisper, something only he was meant to hear.
-Or- -Else-."

Cordelia looked between the two vampires after Willow left. They hadn't
spoken
a word, hadn't even moved since Angel's declaration. Following her red
haired
friend's example, the brunette stood, stretching, and bent to kiss the
handsome
man she was proud to call -hers-, no matter what his fears were. "Come to
bed
soon, k?"

Angel nodded, his eyes never leaving the haunted blue ones of his childe.
Could
it be that the younger man really hadn't meant to hurt him? Seeing the
barely
disguised anguish behind those crystal blue depths he could almost believe
it.
Almost. It still seemed like the kind of sick twisted prank his favorite
childe
got off on, and for that reason alone he had a hard time simply forgiving
him.

"I didn't mean this."

The dark haired vampire would never have heard the words if he hadn't been
looking directly at the blonde's face. As it was, he still thought he had
misunderstood the softly whispered statement. "What was that?"

"I said I didn't mean for this to happen, Peaches." Spike sighed. "Darla
told
me about that night, true. But she never told me how bloody much it had
scarred
you. She didn't even make it seem as bad as all that. Just that she tied you
out with the little buggers all night and you got a few pecks."

"A -few pecks-?" Angel snorted incredulously. It had taken months, even with
his inhuman healing rate, for the wounds from that night to fully heal.
"That
bitch -would- have described it as that."

Spike nodded. "Right, she would have. I'm sorry for tonight." He could see
that
his sire still didn't believe him. He couldn't blame the older man for that,
he
had done some pretty horrible things to him over the years. But this hadn't
been meant to be one of them. < Make it right.... Or else. > Willow's words
came back to him. That girl's idea of *or else* was enough to put fear into
his
undead heart. He had seen what she could do when she was upset and it wasn't
pretty.

Rising slowly from the chair he had been sitting in, the blonde made his way
over to stand in front of the darker haired vampire. Never moving his eyes
from
the troubled ones of his sire he kneeled, drawing one of the older vampire's
hands into his own. "I am sorry, Sire." He closed his eyes, tilting his head
to
the side, exposing the smooth skin of his own neck to the creature in front
of
him.

Angel couldn't believe what he was seeing. His arrogant, petulant,
disobedient
childe was in front of him, neck bared, asking forgiveness in one of the
most
submissive manners in vampire society. < He really is sorry. > The thought
shook the brooding vampire to the core and he felt his eyes begin to tear
up.

Twining his fingers into the younger man's short hair, the dark haired
vampire
slowly lowered his mouth to his pulse point, kissing it lightly as his teeth
elongated. He gently pricked the tender flesh, more of a scratch than an
actual
bite, and lapped at the blood that trickled slowly out. The taste of the
blonde's blood in his mouth was rich and full and he almost was sad to when
the
slight cuts healed over. Licking the closed marks clean, he put his mouth to
his childe's ear. "You're forgiven."

Spike exhaled loudly and stood, twisting his neck from side to side as if to
remove some sort of cramp. He had made nice with his sire, exactly as Red
had
wanted, but it had been more than that. The look in the eyes of the creature
that had created him spoke volumes of caring and compassion he had thought
long
dead. It was enough to make him uncomfortable. "Well. It's late and I have a
red head to apologize to. G'night, Peaches." And then he was gone, leaving
the
room before anything else -uncomfortable- could happen.

"Good night, William." Angel whispered into the empty living room.

*~*~*~*

Spike silently took his clothes off, slipping in bed with Willow. She
pushed
back against him and he smiled softly, wrapping his arm around her waist.
"Is
everything better?"

"Better than it has been in a long time, pet," he replied.

Willow heard a tone of sentimentalness in Spike's voice and wondered exactly
what had happened between Sire and Childe. She would have to ask Cordelia
the
next day, knowing that Spike might not tell her. As much as he loved her,
he
still rarely delved into the relationship that had been his and Angelus',
not
wanting to reopen old wounds.

She turned over with a mischievous look in her eyes. "It's punishment
time,"
she whispered.

"Oh, pet," he said, all sentimentalness gone from his voice. He was back to
the playful teasing she was used to. "If I've told you once, I've told you
a
bloody hundred times. I don't -like- to be tied to the bed and ravaged."

She kissed his nose and crawled out of bed, slipping on a pair of
sweatpants.
She delved into his duffel bag, pulling out one of his shirts. She slipped
it
on, refraining from putting on a bra. He chewed his bottom lip in thought.
"You aren't going to put me out to pasture with a bunch of chickens, are
you?"
he asked softly, suddenly worried.

"No, no, dear. Your torture is much *much* worse than that."

He blinked. "Oh, god, Willow, what are you going to do?" A small amount of
fear trickled through his body. Willow could be quite devious if she needed
to
be, her mind often surprising Spike.

She turned with a smile. "Wal-Mart, Spike. We are going to Wal-Mart."

*~*~*~*

Spike growled softly at the bright florescent light bouncing off white
polished floors. "I hate this place," he grumbled. "Why the bloody hell
are
we here?"

She grinned at him, grabbing his hand. The basic layout of every Super
Wal-Mart was the same, grocery store on the left, everything else on the
right.
She veered to the right, dragging him through the long aisles. "Because
it's
two in the morning, Spikey. Nothing else is open."

He tried to stop her by digging his heels in the floor, but unfortunately,
the
smooth polished floor gave him nothing to stop with. She was dragging him,
his
boots sliding against the floor. "Pet," he growled.

She turned to him, eyes blazing. "Spike, you will come with me willingly,
or I
will strap you down and let the chickens eat away at your flesh."

He blinked, knowing she was serious. He stepped past her, walking ahead.
"Good, good, right, right," he murmured. "What are we looking for?"

Willow's eyes lit up when she saw the stuffed animal row. "Come on!" she
said,
pulling him to the brightly colored animals. "Perfect!" she cried with a
triumphant yell. She snatched a stuffed colorful chicken off the shelves.
She
turned to Spike. "When we were little, Xander gave me a stuffed frog, cause
I'm
terrified of them, as you know. So I'm going to give this to Angel, to help
him overcome his fear."

Spike snickered. "I can't see my Sire with a stuffed chicken, pet."

"Tough. Come on, let's get back to the apartment."

*~*~*~*

Angel rolled away from Cordelia with a groan. He was frustrated, the same
dream repeating in his head over and over. There were chickens everywhere,
coming for him. As soon as they'd reach him, Spike would swoop in and
rescue
him, hissing angrily at the chickens. They would scamper away, and then he
and
Spike would reclaim each other over and over and over. He couldn't figure
out
what was more disturbing, the fact that he was dreaming of chickens, or that
he
was rekindling the fire he and Spike once had.

The other thing was that it wasn't William in his dream, the one who once
had
his heart. It was Spike, the man he'd become without him. It was the
hardened
blond punk with his sarcastic remarks, egging him on at every turn. And he
enjoyed it. He wanted the Master Vampire, wanted to dominate him and be
dominated by him.

He groaned, opening his eyes. He froze, staring at a stuffed chicken
sitting
on his pillow. Growling softly, his game face fell into place.

"Angel?" Cordelia asked softly, waking up at the growl. She sat up and
frowned, seeing Angel lying there in full game face, growling at a stuffed
chicken. "Angel, what's. . ."

She watched in open mouth wonder as Angel grabbed the tiny stuffed chicken
and
leaped off the bed, holding it out. He growled again, then ripped into the
stuffed animal, tearing it apart with his fangs. He eagerly ripped into the
animal, taking out all the frustration of that night almost two hundred and
fifty years ago.

Cordelia stared at him, until he finally looked up. She giggled at the
colorful stuffing hanging out of his mouth. "Feel better?" she asked.

His face smoothed back to his human planes. He spit the stuffing out of his
mouth. "Much," he answered with a smile.

She chuckled, lying back down. "Come on, get back in bed."

Angel glanced down at the tattered remains of the poor stuffed animal, his
smile growing. He felt as if he was finally at peace with one of the few
fears
in his life. He looked up at Cordelia. "I love you," he said softly,
crawling
in bed with her.

She pushed her body against him, stroking his back. "I love you too." The
vampire and mortal closed their eyes, drifting into the sweet bliss of
sleep.
 

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