Lateral Thinking
by Xanpet
Chapter Four
Hal had been out for hours. She'd initially gone straight to the lab, but other than the body and Nathan Reed; there wasn't a lot to see. She'd spoken to Mike though. Michael was a lizard looking demon, with a snake like face and patterned skin. He appeared to be just an animal, a lab rat, but he was smart and had a language. A language Halley had just neglected to tell anyone else about.
"Got any grasshoppers there, Doc?"
"What did you see, Mike?"
"Not a lot, you already know they've been taking spawn. The Dex just bolted." He used the lab's nickname for the soul creature. It was officially the Dexta Hydroxate Beast, but Dex was somehow warmer, kinder.
"Thank you." Hal tossed a handful of grasshoppers into the cage and watched Mike catching them with his sticky tongue. One day she would have to release this guy.
As she turned to go, Mike said, "Be careful Doc, they're gunning for you and that Reed is a real reptile!"
Why was her creation, her child, behaving this way? Connie was dead! The Dex hadn't been bred to kill. She was so glad she'd thought to insert identity chips. She looked again at the gauge in front of her. Close. She turned into San Pedro and then again into Avalon. The creature seemed to be heading right for the heart of the Avalon Gardens Project.
Then she saw it or at least what she thought approximated her creation, her baby. Something had mauled or injured the demon, into a deformed and hideous mess. And it smelt. It was rotting flesh and burning tyres, stagnant water and stale faeces. It was as if the city itself had poisoned her child. But its eyes, how could anyone do anything but pity the owner of those eyes.
It looked at her, soul meeting soul, howled and took off into the sprawling mass of apartment blocks. She carried on tracking it for a while and then gave up. It was late and she wanted to go home. Nothing was being achieved out here.
She slipped into the darkened apartment, took off her clothes and climbed into bed. She huddled next to her boyfriend and kissed his shoulder. She was grateful that he had chosen to stay.
"What happened?" He asked.
"One of the Dexes escaped. Couldn't catch it. Lindsey, can I ask you a question?"
"Yes,"
"Can you find out what Nathan is doing with the Dexes? They are being removed at twenty weeks gestation and they really need at least thirty or the soul isn't properly integrated. This is all real experimental stuff, I just...I just need to know what's going on."
Lindsey felt an uncomfortable sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Don't ask me to do this Hal," he thought, "Don't ask me to split my loyalties in this way. I will not come down on your side."
But out loud, he said nothing; he merely rolled over and kissed her lightly on the nose. She hugged him tight thinking she had her answer.
"Gunn, where the hell have you been?" Snapped Angel as soon as the young man walked through the doors of the hotel."Hey, when you're quite done with the yelling. I'm here now, so it's cool. New client?" He approached Spike who was sitting on the sofa, still looking decidedly green around the gills. He held out his hand. Spike raised his head and a mischievous look crossed his face. He took Gunn's hand and shook it.
"Wow, cold hands, you look like you had a bad night. Still, Angel's a miserable guy but he's the man if you want anything done demon wise."
"Really," Said Spike, his evening was picking up, "So what does he do for demons?"
"He kills 'em. Hey, you English? Relative, Wesley?"
Wesley almost choked. "I don't think...er...that is..."
"Yeah, yeah," Said Spike, "Me and the toff, we're like that," He crossed his fingers, "We was at school together, Winchester weren't it? Jolly nice. Hooray Henry 'ere was me fag..."
"Cut the crap, Spike," Angel barked, and then addressing Gunn, "He's a vampire."
"I thought we went through this shit with the chick."
Cordelia shot him a look, "Don't call her a chick, its not PA."
"I think you intended to say PC." Said Wesley.
"That's a computer. Da, and you people invented the language?"
"Can you three wisht a minute?" Angel's frustration with them brought the Irish demon closer to the surface. "Yes, he's a vampire but he's mine." Angel dared them to make another comment with a look. Spike shuddered at the possessive but said nothing. After all, he'd asked for it, asked to be a fledge again.
"We have more important things to worry about. Spike what happened out there and I need answers not bullshit."
"I hit it, I up-chucked." Angel glared and started towards him, "Okay, okay but this is humiliating, need emotional support and...compensation."
Angel grabbed Spike by the collar and dragged him to the stair well, "Don't you ever tire of prostitution?"
"Not while I have something to sell, you want it, pay for it."
"Do I have to remind you..."
"That you're a vampire, my Sire? Nah. But how much do you want to show your lackeys of your demonic side? Go on.... Beat me. Rape me. Public space Angelus...and you likes an audience. Always playing to the gallery." Angel said nothing. "Or maybe you could do me a favour."
"Other than the one I've already done?"
"I want financial independence."
Angel didn't reply. What was Spike up to now?
Spike dropped his tone to that barely above a whisper, "You left me Angelus. Fucked off without a word, I was barely fledged. Eighteen years is nothing, most humans don't leave home 'til their twenties. And I had 'er in tow. I've spent the best part of my existence caring for a lunatic. I loved her with all my being but she left me too." He paused; the whole room was watching them even though they couldn't hear.
"I lied, I am tired of prostitution, I'm tired of surviving on handouts and sleeping in hovels or on other people's floors. I've rarely owned anything Angelus, not as a human, not as a beast. Me smokes and me motor, and the car's stolen. Well actually so are the fags. You want redemption? You've been looking in the wrong places shit-for-brains. You keep on trying to gain forgiveness from them. They're human. They're our food. There are only three creatures on this planet that you require forgiveness from, your childer: Penn the Zealot, Drucilla the Insane and me, William, the Big Bad. The ones you killed, the ones you drove mad, the ones you warped and perverted and let loose on the world."
Angel sighed, Spike was right as usual, his insight uncanny. Hadn't he had that very thought? "Penn is dust and Dru is beyond anything you or I can do now." He said.
"Then I guess I'm your last chance. Don't expect me to make it easy."
"I put stuff away for the others. Valuables, stocks, cash..."
"But not for the interloper, I get it, not for the cuckoo in your little nest."
"She should never have touched you, you were already mine."
"But she did, and now I'm all you got. So, what's it to be?"
There was a pause while Angel regarded his Childe, he wanted him, he wanted to make him truly his own. "I'll sort something out, but in return I require Sire's rights."
Spike understood, nodded his assent and walked back into the room. He wanted this done in front of witnesses. He actually felt positive, his Sire would claim him and he'd belong, then the healing could really begin.
Angel began the ritual, a mirror of the one from the night before.
"I Angelus, of the order of Aurelius,
Do hereby claim and desire Sire's rights.
Owed to me by my Childe, William.
My blood is his blood, his blood is my blood.
As it was in the beginning and as it ever shall be.
He owes me his life, I owe him his death,
Until the debt be repaid, we are bound."It was so different from last night. This was like coming home; it was the prodigal son returning. Only Spike could help his Sire now, only William could grant what Angel wanted most.
"I William, of the order of Aurelius,
Do hereby accept and desire Childe's duties.
Claimed from me by my Sire, Angelus.
My blood is his blood, his blood is my blood.
As it was in the beginning and as it ever shall be.
He owes me my life, I owe him my death.
Until the debt be repaid, we are bound."This time Angel did not need to ask, Spike offered up his neck willingly and Angel felt his fangs descend as he nuzzled into it. He drank greedily; vaguely aware of the spectacle they were putting on for the others. There was no heartbeat to slow, but a gradual losing of consciousness told Angel that it was time; he brought Spike's head to his own neck and lapped at his wounds to stimulate him. He felt Spike's fangs pierce his jugular and the other vampire began to drink. He had all but been destroyed and was now reborn in the blood of his Sire. Spike drank hungrily as if he hadn't fed in days. They drew apart and the look that passed between them was that of love but it was brief.
"If this ritual is complete, may we please get on with the task at hand, Spike?" Wesley had clearly had enough of the display. Even though he usually deferred to Angel, he was still a trained Watcher and the one thing he knew well was a vampire. They thrived on strife and William the Bloody could cause plenty of it. "Not under this roof!" He thought. The first sign of discord and he would take charge. He would act.
Spike plonked himself down on the sofa and sprawled across it. He was buzzing from the blood of his Sire and only too happy to tell his little tale. Though, in his animated state, his accent became almost impenetrable, "Got this chip didn't I. Didn't quite 'ave me eye on the ball and wham, GI Joe caught me wiv me trousers down. It's a little bugger, I can tell you. They put it in me brain see, an' when I goes to bite anyfink, or inflict pain on anything, even if wot I'm 'olding is fake like, I gets this searing pain in me loaf, so I've stopped."
"Stopped what?" Cordelia asked.
"Hunting, Princess. Can't hunt. Can't kill. Can't feed."
"How do you survive?" Angel could scarcely keep the shock from his voice.
"Same as I always did, Sunshine, sell what I have and steal what I don't."
Angel was horrified, this wasn't some Gypsy curse, this was torture. It never ceased to amaze him how shortsighted human beings could be. He had thought his own curse to be the prime example. Punishing the demon by having him possessed by the dead soul of the man he was sounded fine, but who was getting punished here? The demon had no soul. The only thing that felt his pain was his human one and if it should seek happiness, as surely all souls must, then it would be sent back to limbo to wait for purgatory and the demon was released back into the world, just as vicious as it ever was. Totally untouched by the punishment and free to kill again.
The curse didn't keep his demon caged, he did. It was his soul's fear of the tyranny of the demon and how it would punish his friends that kept him going. If he received redemption then his soul would be free and the demon finally destroyed. But at least he could feed, defend himself, even exact his own punishments and revenge.
This was mutilation, it was cruel, it was - evil.
"Why Spike?" He asked aware that his features were in constant flux in his rage.
"How the hell should I know? Didn't even realise it was there 'til I went to bite...someone." He was careful not to say whom. "I guess it was 'cos I escaped. The Government lab, soldier boys, boffins, they're all gone now. No one to ask. I'm just an experiment that went wrong. The scariest thing is, I don't know what it's doing in there? It could be eating away at the inside, it could be a ticking time bomb, one hundred attempts to kill and you're dust. It might just malfunction, you know I could simply vanish while sitting here, I don't know," He looked so sad, "I just don't know."
"This is all very well, but what has it got to do with tonight?" Wesley was getting impatient.
"Well, I socked that dratsab with everything I 'ad and the pain was unreal. Hence the pavement pizza."
"Ah, the creature was human."
But neither Angel nor Spike thought so. There had been no discernable heartbeat and it certainly hadn't smelt human. Spike remembered Giles being turned into a Fyarl Demon. At the time, he had only recognised Giles from his speech, and that because he just happened to speak Fyarl. Mind you, he hadn't actually tried to thump him. Still it proved that such spells existed and Wesley immediately got to work on the research, issuing orders and calling for texts. Everyone was assigned a task, everyone that was, except Spike. Wesley still didn't trust the vampire and couldn't see what use he could possibly be.
Angel was fussing round his Childe, "When was the last time you fed?"
"Just now, off you. Wow, was it that memorable?"
Angel sighed and went to the fridge. He brought back a mug filled with pig's blood. Spike sniffed at it and put it into the microwave. Cordelia saw him.
"Can you say gross? Nothing from that machine passes my lips, like ever!" And she shuddered. "It was bad enough watching my former best friend drink the stuff."
"Well as long as he neither puts gum on anything or feeds blood to the computer." Wesley muttered.
"You will never let her live that down, will you?"
"Your so called friend..."
"Harmony, she had a name, it was Harmony."
Spike's jaw dropped to the floor and then he laughed. "Harmony? That silly tart was 'ere? What did she want, someone to find her half a brain? What?" They were all staring at him, "Look I didn't send her, nailed her to the bed, both metaphorically and literally, but you don't send some Californian airhead to do anything. Not guilty your Honour, except maybe of poor penis judgement."
Cordelia flew at him, "How dare you?" She screamed, "How dare you stand here with that sewer mouth and trash the memory of a girl you killed." She snatched a stake from the desktop and made ready to destroy him. Only Angel held her back.
That was it. Wesley hauled Spike out into the courtyard of the hotel. The night was still pitch, with no sign of impending dawn. He flung Spike down onto the flagstones and then dragged him up again and thrust him against the wall.
"What stops me from finishing what she started?" He said, icily.
"No stake?"
Wesley produced one from his pocket and held it against Spike's chest. He used his superior height to bear down on the vampire. It was an effort to intimidate but Spike was quicker and merely batted the stake away. It fell with a clatter to the floor.
"No stake." He said again. Before Wesley could pick it up, he had his foot on it and was in full game mode. "You know, men have died for less. Had this chip not been here, I would have ripped out your lungs and worn them as a hat for manhandling me like that. I would have knitted a sweater with your
still living intestines. But..." He slipped back into his human guise, "...as it is, I guess we'll just have to talk this through like men, well man and beast."He kicked the stake into the corner and sat down on the edge of the central flowerbed. "I didn't turn her." He said, "I found her. She's the lowest of our kind. A minion turned her. You know as well as I do what that means, and there was no master to the nest. To make matters worse her so-called Sire discarded her. When I found her every vamp in the county was hounding her. She was a fuck toy. She was frightened and alone. I showed her what she could be, gave her a home, created her a nest and allowed her to belong somewhere."
"Why?" The question came from the doorway and it was Cordelia.
"Because, Sweetheart, I know what it feels like to be lost, being a demon is powerful but that power can be overwhelming and she was a fledge. Just call me Jude, eh?"
"Thank-you."
He looked puzzled, "What for Honey?" But she turned and went inside without answering, Wesley followed her and Spike was left alone. Had he finally done something right? He hoped so; he was going to have to survive with these people a long time.
Chapter FiveIt was quiet in the office. The lull before the storm Wesley suspected, but at least he was able to get some work done and a little research of his own. He was as sure as he could be that Spike was telling the truth about the chip but that didn't stop him from doing a little digging on William the Bloody. Christ, he hadn't heard that title since he was in training and what he was reading now didn't exactly fill him with joy. His linage and age seemed debatable although most writers could agree that he was related to Angelus, consort of Drusilla and - oh no - killer of no less than two Slayers. A vicious and thorough slaughterer with a penchant for railway spikes, hence the nickname, and about as subtle as a house brick in the face. Wesley took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with weary resignation. "Why are you here, Spike?" He said to the page. "What are the Powers that Be trying to show us?"
He hurriedly cleared the books away. It wouldn't do for Angel to discover his investigations. The ex Watcher didn't enjoy showdowns with the souled demon. He was no alpha male and since having met Angelus, all be it a drug-induced version, he could better see where one started and the other finished. And besides, Spike's presence had to be bringing the caged beast closer to the surface.
He was just in time, a clear vampiric snarl echoed in the foyer. Apparently, Spike had risen just before sundown and was on the prowl. Wesley went to investigate.
"Do I look worried by that, Mister?" Said Cordelia, squaring up to the vampire. To be fair she'd have taken him on, chip or no chip. "Cloth, sponge, get cleaning. I want to be able to eat off it!" She pointed at the blood-splattered microwave.
"Who died and made her Stalin?" Spike grumbled. He was lucky that she didn't have time to reply because at that moment Angel and Gunn appeared from opposite ends of the room.
"Nothing!" They said in unison. Gunn sprawled himself on what Spike had come to see as 'his' sofa. "Worse than nothing," He continued, "This thing certainly ain't attacking no one. I talked to every project gang leader out there."
Spike went to sit on the sofa. He tossed the cleaning implements onto the table and growled at Gunn who, to the vampire's amazement, growled back. Really growled. Spike wasn't going to be intimidated by two humans in one evening so he made a great deal of picking up his fags from the table, knocking Gunn's feet as he did so.
"Ya know, ya'r two seconds away from dusting." Snapped Gunn.
Spike just smiled, "Yes," He sniggered mentally, "Reaction." He pulled a cheap, green, bic lighter from his jeans pocket and lit his first cigarette of the night. He took a long drag, "Ahh. That's better. Now blood." He thought.
"Haven't you forgotten something?" Cordelia tossed the sponge and cloth at him, "And you can put that out as well. The only smoking you get to do round here is the sunlight induced sort."
"What is it with this woman?" He snarled through gritted teeth. He made a big show of cleaning the microwave but once her back was turned, he stubbed his cigarette out in the centre of the glass tray and put the remainder behind his ear.
"Aw, that's sweet of you."
He whipped round to find Fred regarding him with animated interest. Quickly he cleaned away the ash, feeling more like a naughty schoolboy than if any of the others had caught him. She had in her hands what appeared to be an old car radio that had bred with a mobile phone. She took the device to the
reception desk and began to tinker with it. Every now and again, she'd tut and tweak the wires with a pair of needle nosed pliers. Occasionally she would stop to make notes on the back of an old Chinese menu and all the while, she talked to herself. Everyone else ignored her.She reminded Spike of Drusilla. Okay, so it was electronics and not Tarot but he somehow thought it would yield the same results. And someone had to. Gunn and Angel had shaken all their contacts and come up with a fat nothing. Zero too for Wesley and his books, and Cordy and the Net. He took his blood mug over to her computer to see where she'd been looking. He helped himself to a handful of corn chips from the bag she'd been eating and, one by one, swirled them in the blood as if it was salsa dip. From the look she gave him, he was glad he was already dead.
Angel was studying a text Wesley had handed him on Urban Demons. Spike tried to read over his shoulder, but it was all too small without his glasses. Angel licked at the corn chip in Spike's hand and then absentmindedly ran his tongue along the bloody dribbles, which trailed down Spike's fingers. He took Spike's hand and nibbled at the chip. Wesley could see this becoming dangerous. He didn't want to expose the others to the sexual practices of vampires and he wanted Angel to concentrate. When the others of his nest were around, Angelus rattled at his cage and used every trick he knew to get free, he could dupe his alter ego so easily. If Angel let his guard down even for a moment, Spike could trip the happiness clause without even realising it.
"Can you see anything? Is there something I've missed? Angel?"
The vampire banged the book shut at the sound of his name and everyone jumped. "This is impossible." He barked, taking a guilty step away from Spike.
"Well, let's set out what we have so far," Said Wesley relieved that the moment had passed. "A demon that fits no known description. Not unusual, there are an infinite amount of realities and they all spawn new demons every day."
"A demon that has no purpose other than to stink like project garbage." Added Cordelia. Spike was sure the look she gave was directed at him.
"A demon that the Powers that Be want us to deal with. You did have a vision." Reminded Wesley.
"A demon that hasn't been making business for the ERs." Gunn said.
"A demon that Spike can't hurt without intense neurological pain." Angel shook his head, "Spike you have to be it."
"Excuse me, I don't stink like project garbage!"
"No I mean the key."
"The last time anyone thought I was a key, I ended up being tortured by a hell god, kicked through a door and had to throw meself down a lift shaft. I really bloody hope I'm not a key."
"Not you," Said Fred. "This," She came right up to Spike and tapped his temple. "It's picking up something, look." And she held out the device she had been working on. As she brought it near to Spike's head, it began to whistle. "I'm not sure but I think...yes I think that something...it's transmitting and when it gets the correct signal back then if you...you know then, well, that's it really."
"Are you saying that the chip can detect humans?" Asked Wesley.
"Well no, 'cos well it's anything living, isn't it, Spike?" She smiled at him.
"Yeah, but more so with humans, see." He poked Wesley in the ribs and then clutched his head, wishing he hadn't. The instrument Fred was holding wailed and the needle flicked up into the red.
"Do it again." She said.
"NO!" Spike and Wesley chorused.
Wesley thought for a moment, "Maybe it's picking up on body heat or pulse rate?"
But Spike shook his head, "No, 'cos scunge-breath didn't 'ave neither and I've managed to deck demons that had both."
Gunn looked impatient, "So jus' how many times you want, we should go round this circle?"
"It's a lateral thinking problem." Said Spike, scooting round Gunn to sit in his space on the sofa. The rest looked at him, "Oh let me give you prannets an example, Anthony and Cleopatra lie dead. There are no marks and no blood. There is no weapon in the room. They lie in a pool of water and glass, next to a highly polished table. The window is open and the heavy velvet curtain billows in the breeze. What happened?"
"They were shot." Said Gunn.
"Nope. No weapon in the room and no marks on the bodies."
"Domestic dispute. She ka-oed him with the flower vase." Cordelia added.
"Good try, Princess but they're both dead and no flowers."
"Maybe..." Began Fred but Angel stopped her, placing his hand on her shoulder.
"Maybe," He said, "We'd better stop with the games and enlist some real help. Cordelia, take Spike to Caritas." Angel knew he should go himself but he didn't want the Host in his head right now. He didn't want anyone to know what he was feeling until he knew better himself. He'd meet them later.
Cordelia however wasn't too happy, "And since when does my job description cover baby sitting every vampire house guest that drops in for a bite?!"
"Good pun." Sniggered Spike.
"Not another word from you or you'll find out just how much like Stalin I can be."
She was at great pains to warn Spike that, if his screwball ex turned up, she could do her own sightseeing! It was fair enough that he wasn't actually responsible for the demon that was her ex friend, but he was responsible for her good sling backs stinking of vamp barf.
---
The Host would have liked to have enjoyed the Frankie Valley number being performed by a couple of reasonably talented Polgara Demons. He would have liked to have given them a pile of smulchy crap as a reading. You'll be coming into money, meeting your true love at the Wal-Mart that sort of thing. But The Powers That Be were about to ruin his evening, not to mention his bar, in a big way. Still he wasn't going to just stand aside gracefully. He'd had the spells, which guarded against demon violence, reinforced even though he knew it would do no good. The PTBs wanted to use Caritas for a little demonstration and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. It did not make for a good evening.
"Oh no," Said Lorne, extremely agitated. "No, Honey. I'm sorry, no vampires allowed in my club. So it's been nice meeting you and keep in touch, tootles." He tried to steer them towards the exit.
"Since when? And that's racism," Said Cordelia, "And anyway, you let Angel in. And Harmony."
"And there are already three in 'ere, so shut your cake, Kermit." Spike looked at the karaoke bar. He looked at the blue plush curtains behind the stage, he looked at the purple and blue lighting, he looked at the mirrored bar and he looked at Lorne.
The Host tutted and went behind the bar. He tapped the 'Do not eat the clientele' sign but Spike just grinned, "Me grandmother always said blue and green should never be seen, China." And he flicked the collar of Lorne's double-breasted lounge suit, which was in a brilliant azure.
"Can't I persuade you to take your custom elsewhere, there's a lovely sushi bar in the next block, seaweed to die for, if you'll excuse the expression."
Cordelia pulled him to the end of the bar, "What is wrong with you? Okay so he's not exactly Mister 'perfect date' but you run a service. Just let him sing, do his reading and we'll be gone. I'm not exactly thrilled over this either, you know."
"I can't read him."
"What?"
"He's a vampire, no soul."
"You read Angel." Lorne looked at her until it sunk in. "Oh. Okay. So soul. But you read Harmony."
"No Kitten, I read you."
"Well can't you do that now?" Cordy was getting increasingly frustrated with Lorne's attitude.
"If I give him his reading, terrible, terrible things will happen." But she showed no signs of going. "You're still here. Which terrible did you not understand?"
Spike joined them, "If David Banner here don't want to feel me bumps makes no odds to me."
Lorne sighed and gave in. The PTB couldn't be stopped anyway, so there was no point in fighting the tidal wave. "Oh go on. Singing. Reading. Leaving. In that order. Unless you'd rather start in reverse?"
Cordelia shook her head.
Spike went up to the stage, "So how does this work, mystical backing tapes, 'cos if it's a case of reading me mind, ain't gonna work, Mate."
Lorne bit back the next remark and handed him the mike. He instructed him in how it worked and then left the stage. He really didn't want this. The Powers That Be had a sick sense of humor sometimes. "Why me?" He asked himself.
Then his mind seemed to empty, at least of his own worries, because Spike had begun to sing,
"Now you say you love me,
You cried the whole night through,
Well, you can cry me a river,
Cry me a river,
I cried a river over you."It was amazing, crystal clear notes, passionate intonation and powerful expression. Cordelia stood with her mouth open.
"Now you say you're sorry
For being so untrue,
Well, you can cry me a river,
Cry me a river,
I cried a river over you.""He sounds so heartbroken," She whispered to The Host, "Is he pining over his nutso girlfriend still? Hello?! Dumped him twice.... Time to buy a clue and move on, already."
"Remember you're listening to a demon, Cupcakes. Vampires are naturally seductive. It's how they hunt." But even Lorne was being taken in, or was he? He could feel something. See something? "Keep singing, Sweetums. I'll get it in a minute." He thought.
The song was reaching the first middle eight,
"You drove me, nearly drove me,
Out of my head,
When you never shed a tear.Remember, I remember all that you said,
Told me love was through for being,
Told me you were through with me,"A group of suit types were getting a little rowdy in the front. "Hey, trying to listen here!" Shouted Cordelia but they just heckled and laughed. Some of them crossed the bar and began to jostle her.
"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt your boyfriend's caterwauling."
"He's so not my..."
"Free are you then? And easy I'll bet."
Angel arrived in the doorway feeling foolish. He'd sent Cordy out with a dangerous vampire on her own, just because he was afraid of his own feelings. Still everything seemed all right. Wesley's panic and Gunn's threats appeared to be for nothing. He stared at Spike. Hell, it was a long time since he'd heard either boy or demon sing. Spike used to sing to Drusilla when she got agitated but once he was in the wheelchair, he never did. Was the song for her? Or maybe for Angel himself or another lost love.
The Host walked towards Angel and whispered, "One of yours? Talent skip a generation? He's good, but much as I'd like to get two shows a week, let me hit you with the news, and then you go. All of you. Now."
"I thought you could only give the reading to the singer."
"Oh this isn't the reading, this is something else. I hate to break it to you 'Daddy' but your little bleach blond nightingale has a soul!"
It took a moment for that to sink in. "But how?"
"Ours is not to argue with The Powers That Be, although I'm sure as hell trying. But no he's not cursed before you ask. He is totally unaware of its existence. It's in his aura. His soul is hiding. He never really died and what's more, it's in pain, Sweetness. And now, it's been nice talking with you but, tootles, ciao...skidaddle." As he spoke he felt a rush, as if all the energy in the room had been sucked out. The PTB brought the anti violence spells crashing down and Caritas was defenceless.
Spike was coming to the end of his song,
"But now you say you love me,
And to prove you do,
Come on and - cry me a river,
Cry me a river,
I cried a river over you."The final bars of the mystical orchestra were playing but the crowd at the front were getting louder. From his vantage point on the stage, Spike could see Cordelia being jostled and bumped.
"I cried a river..." He never finished. Several of the men were getting handy. Cordelia was trying to fend off gropes from all sides. "Oh come on darling, I'm a lawyer, just a little kiss."
"Yeah, there might be something in it for you."
"Tits as ripe as..." That was it; he launched himself from the stage and dived, head long into the crowd. The lawyers scattered. Circular tables went flying and Spike found, to his surprise and delight, that every punch connected and didn't hurt, at least not him. His features morphed and he snarled and roared. This was great, like coming home. He wrenched the chrome legs from an upturned chair and began to swing them over his head like an English quarterstaff. He was going to take the first head that he saw and knock it for six. "I bet I can at least make the boundary." He thought gleefully. "Owzatt!!"
Angel reached him just in time and caught the end of the chair leg. That spoiled his fun and he spun round. The two vampires squared up to one another and the lawyers took their opportunity and ran. "The Senior Partners will hear about this, bottom feeder." Was the passing shot from the last one out.
"And who said chivalry was dead?" Cordelia liked someone to fight for her honour, whoever it was. They all looked at the wreckage of the bar.
"I thought no demon violence in Caritas." Angel was puzzled. Spike with a soul, Spike able to hit humans, albeit Wolfram and Hart staff, which he doubted counted. This had just thrown up more questions than answers.
"The Powers That Be have a sick sense of humor." Muttered the Host. He was going to have to find some PTB proof spells and that was going to cost. He turned to Spike, "Okay, you can drop the 'Robin Hood' now. Maid Marion is safe. Take it home Angel cakes before I do the dance of the pissed bar owner."
Chapter SixAngel insisted on driving Cordelia to her apartment and then headed back to the hotel. His head was spinning from all the information he had got tonight. The Powers that Be had allowed the fight to take place that was certain, in spite of all the spells to the contrary, so it had to be a clue. Anthony and Cleopatra, he'd heard that before. Everything one needed to solve the problem was in the original statement, one just had to ask the right questions. One just had to ask the right questions here as well. All the clues were present and he was right the key was Spike.
They pulled up outside the hotel. Spike hadn't said a word the whole way but now he looked at his Sire and declared, "Well that was a resounding failure. I didn't even get me reading. It's a fucking swizz in'it."
Angel knew he had to tell Spike the news, "Spike, Lorne told me something."
"I thought it was like seeing your doctor. Don't he have an oath or sumfink?"
"Spike," Better just say it straight, "He told me you have a soul." The look on Spike's face was as if his entire world had just collapsed.
"That can't be."
"It is."
"Why cos 'snot that walks' said so? Some giant bogie tells you shite and you just swallow it? Maybe I should send you out for a skirting board ladder or a glass hammer? Be a laugh eh?"
"Spike, Wil'..."
"NO! I ain't listening. No! No! No, no, nonononono." Spike jumped the car door and headed for the front of the hotel. He burst through the door without opening it, leaving it hanging in splintered tatters on its hinges. He reached the stairs before Angel even got to the door. Running up the first flight he jumped, two steps at a time, up the second. Even faster, whole flights in a single leap and up the stairwell, from landing to landing, positively flying.
He tore the door to his room clean off the frame, pulling part of the wood away from the wall. He howled and then the TV went flying through the window, in a shower of sparks and glass. The bedside cabinet was next. He raised it above his head and sent it into the wardrobe, before turning the cupboard itself into matchwood, with two flying kicks to the doors. The roars of the enraged beast could have been heard for five blocks.
He was feral. Blinded by rage and tears, he grabbed at the bed and pulled the mattress. He rent it to shreds and upturned the bed frame. Angel stood on the threshold of the room and watched the fury continue. Snarling, Spike hurled the remains of the mattress into the bathroom, smashed the sink with his fist, and cracked the tiling with a barrage of kicks and punches. He left blooded skid marks where the ceramic had slit flesh.
He turned his wrath on the toilet. Grasping the bowl, he heaved it from its pedestal, and flung it out into the room. Angel ducked and it soared over his head, to smash into smithereens, against the opposite wall.
Water fountained from the stump of the toilet and Spike stood dripping. His frenzy abated and he collapsed to his knees. Hugging his head, he began to rock and Angel thought it might be safe now to approach.
"Wil'." He said as gently as he could. He was so quiet only vampire hearing could have picked it up. "Wil'?" He got onto his hands and knees and crawled towards Spike's foetal form.
Spike had nothing left. He allowed his Sire to hold him in the streaming water. Angel cradled the sobbing vampire, rocking him and talking consoling nonsense. He raised Spike's face and pushed sodden hair from his blood streaked eyes.
Spike met Angel's eyes and said, "What am I, Sire? What type of monstrous aberration am I?"
"You're Spike, Master Vampire."
That was enough to trigger the self-loathing again. Spike wrenched his face from Angel's gentle grip and spat, "I'm nothing. Everyone always said so. I'm a failed abortion. Abandoned and abused. You! You told me I was a used guttersnipe, worthless body and soul. And now I find it's true. What kind of vampire has a soul and what kind of souled creature can have done the things I've done?"
Angel sat back on his haunches and studied the other vampire, as if seeing him for the first time. His hair was dark and dripping, his face bloody and almost blue with cold. When he spoke, his voice was cracked and pained.
"I'm damaged," He said, to the floor, not able to raise his head and look Angel in the eye, "Neutered. I can't hunt. I can't feed. I can't defend myself or protect those I love. No wonder I lose every lover. I'm abhorrent to everything. He couldn't love me. He couldn't love me, Angel."
There was a wild panic in that last sentence and Angel thought Spike was ranting, but it was worrying. Spike could be losing his mind with this chip thing. What if this was the beginning of a breakdown? "I love you." He said.
Spike lifted his head and stared at him, not comprehending, "You deserted me."
His Sire reached out slowly and began to stroke his hair, "But I've always loved you. I remember the first time we met. Sometimes in the last hundred years, the memory of a dark haired boy with the bluest of eyes, was one of the only things that stopped me from taking a walk in the sun."
"You raped and tortured that boy."
Angel shook his head, slowly, "And you never cried. You knelt naked in front of me and Darla held your hair." He could see the scene in his mind's eye. Spike had been sassy and quick even then. "You took me in your mouth and I told you to open your eyes so I could see them weep," He never stopped stroking Spike's hair even though they were both soaking, "But you didn't."
"But I bleeding did, China. I was dying inside. I 'id meself from you and you weren't never fucking catching me."
"Or apparently improving your grammar and I seem to remember you charging the Earth as well. You must have hidden your soul from the pain of your life. Not even your demon could find it. That doesn't make you an aberration that makes you unique. My soul is a curse and a bad one at that. It's an act of
vengeance and nothing more. It is the soul of a dead man being tortured for acts it isn't responsible for. Yours is living. You never truly died. Maybe the chip has just given you some breathing space. A chance to control the demon and give you time to reflect."He tilted Spike's head up gently and placed the lightest of kisses on still quivering lips. Time froze just for an instant and then Spike was kissing him furiously, desperately. The younger vampire tugged at his shirt, freeing it from his pants and ran his hands up and over his abdomen and chest. Angel responded in kind. He knew he was safe if he wasn't reaching for heaven. This wasn't even about him. This was about need and want. This was about William.
He stood, bringing Spike with him and guided him out into the room. If they stayed in the water, they would get chilled to the point of dormancy. Then he began to kiss every inch of the younger vampire. Placing butterfly kisses on his forehead, eyelids and cheeks. Angel tasted the blood in Spike's tears
and licked at his face as a mother cat cleans her kittens. This was for William, all for William."Angelus, I..." Spike wanted Angel to stop. He thought of Xander just three nights before, kissing his demon and professing his love. But this was different, this was vampiric, this was his Sire, this was home. So, he stopped resisting and gave himself up to the welter of sensations that assaulted him.
Angel was kissing and licking at the hollow of his neck, that most sensual spot for his race. He arched his back and howled his pleasure, "Bite me," he begged in a horse whisper and Angel obliged.
The older vampire felt his fangs descend as his childe continued to undulate in his embrace, grinding his cock against him. The bite was a mere graze but enough to ignite them both. Angel dropped to his knees, sliding a fang along Spike's chest and slicing a clean line to the navel. He drew his tongue back up it, looked up into Spike's passion filled eyes and watched his childe mouth just one word, "Sire."
Spike started to undo his fly but Angel batted the hand away. "Don't move." He commanded as instinct forced them both into roles older than time. The water-drenched denim was stiff and chill but brute force loosened each button. Spike's cock stood proud of the dark fabric. "Too long," Angel sighed, returning to his human face, "It's been too long." And he was back on his knees, taking Spike down in one smooth movement.
Angel drew his tongue along the underside of Spike's cock, from root to tip. He swirled it around the foreskin and felt Spike's hands in his hair. Had he been Angelus, it would have been the end of the blowjob and the beginning of the torture. Spike had disobeyed a direct order and moved, but Angel was more forgiving of his errant offspring. Spike's grasping fingers twined still further into sodden locks as Angel continued to roll the silken head around his mouth with Spike panting above him.
From his position on his knees, with Spike pounding his cock into his mouth, Angel should have felt powerless but he didn't, in fact, quite the reverse. He was making Spike breathe, making him beg, if he sucked hard then Spike groaned his name. "Oh Wil' if you'd wanted that ring you shouldn't have tortured me you should have blown me." Angel thought. But he knew why that would never have happened. Wil' was tired of prostitution, he'd said so and this, this was about love. He hoped. Or at the very least reconciliation.
"Close, so close." Spike hissed as he tried to get even more of his cock down Angel's smooth throat. Angel increased the pace and gave one last hard suck and Spike roared as he shot his load into his Sire's hungry mouth.
Angel stood and held the other vampire to stop him falling as the shudders of orgasm continued to ripple through his body. He kissed him, sharing the last of the semen with its owner. Spike licked greedily at his lips until every drop was gone.
"I want..." Angel began but this wasn't about him, he had to remind himself again.
However, Spike seemed to understand. He nodded and said, "It's okay, just remember I'm one of your greatest sins and you'll be safe. You know I always mean what I say and just how bloody minded I can be. You're not using me, I want this too." But he was never going to say 'I love you' because he didn't.
Spike's jeans proved hard to remove. The wet fabric clung to his icy skin. It seemed to take forever before he and Angel were both naked on the floor. He sat astride his Sire and using china chips from the smashed toilet, he cut lazy patterns into Angel's flesh. The nicks were so shallow they healed in front of his eyes. "Do you want me to hurt you?" Old games died hard.
"No," Angel said out loud. "I want you to love me." He thought to himself.
"Do you want to hurt me?" He offered Angel the shard.
"No, I want to fuck you. Will you let me?"
"You're the Sire." He tossed the shard aside and stared hard at the other vampire. "How do you want to fuck me?"
"Like this. I want you to ride me."
Spike's blue, blue eyes glittered with desire and he bent to take Angel's face in his hands. His water darkened hair curled onto his forehead and tiny droplets gathered at the ends. He moved in for the kiss. Their tongues were first to touch, dancing tip to tip, then lips and even teeth entering the affray. Spike in the midst of it all raised his hips and reached to spread his buttocks wide. He began his decent, encasing his Sire's cock deep within his cool body. He held still for a moment to savour the stinging sensation and get used to the fullness and then he began to move.
Angel rocked against him in time with his rises and falls. Their eyes locked together, everything moving in fluid rhythm. It was so good. Not soul losing good just familiar and agonising in its sweetness. Spike was so tight. Even after everything, that strong ring of muscle could clamp hard on his cock making him moan.
They thrust together in a bizarre ballet. Spike came down hard repeatedly, driving Angel's cock against his prostate until everything was veiled in a fog of lust and want. His left hand wrapped around his own erection and began to pull with urgency born of passion. Angel's hands grasped his hips dragging him down further onto his straining cock and Spike began to chant, "Yes, yes, yes," With every stroke.
It was too much; Angel felt his features begin to morph. He tugged Spike towards him and in a rasping whisper said, "Harder," Spike duly obliged, pounding against him, nearing his second orgasm. That was the final fillip; Angel bit down hard onto Spike's shoulder and buried his climax in a frenzy of snarls.
Spike cried out at the sudden, sharp pain of the bite and shot his own release onto the belly of the other. In full vamp mode, he collapsed on top of Angel and sunk his own fangs deep into his Sire's neck.
It was a long time before he could move again. Orgasm and cold had both taken their toll and when he pulled his fangs from Angel's flesh, he dragged a little leaving a nasty gash. He pawed at it and then licked his fingers. He touched his own puncture wounds and offered the blooded fingertips for Angel to suck clean. Neither of them said a word. What was there to say?
---
Much later, when the water seemed to have ebbed and they had found dry bed linen to sleep in, Angel curled himself around his foster childe and sighed. He looked at Spike's sleeping form and for a moment he was reminded of an Oscar Wilde story, "A Portrait of WH." He thought. Then another Wilde quote came to him. Something said at the trial. 'The love that he bore him - for it was really love - had nothing in it that was not noble and intellectual. It was not mere physical admiration of beauty that is born of the senses and that dies when the senses die. It such love as Michael-Angelo had known and...Shakespeare himself'