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Last chapter!!!!!
It's finished! Finished!!!!! *collapses in heap* I'm still shocked at how fast I've written this thing - I posted the first chapter exactly a month ago! One month! And the whole thing now weighs in at 30k words! And considering that my longest work so far (Maybe Someday) is 50k and took me 9 months... ::mind boggles:: Anyway, I look forward to getting my life back!
Thank you's to everyone who's been reading (and especially those who have rec'd it!), as well to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moscow_watcher for the icons and uglybusiness for the banner. And of course most of all to kathyh for all the marvellous beta work!
This chapter I have to dedicate toshapinglight for a number of different reasons - those of you who know her will probably work out why! *g*
For people catching up - or reading from the start now it's finished - all chapters here.
And is there any way I can beg for feedback that I haven't already used? ::thinks:: Doubt it. But if you've read this far, I'd love to know! I hope that I've managed to make this threesome plausible, and that you like the wrap-up! Enjoy! :)
Chapter 7
“No!”
“Spike...”
“No!”
“Please...”
“’M not wearing it. End of story.”
”Spike...” Buffy was getting very fed up. “It was Dawn’s Christmas present to you! She’ll be mad if you don’t wear it. It’s just a sweater...”
“Don’t care! And Angel didn’t get a sweater!” Spike’s voice was petulant now.
Buffy sighed. “That’s because she knows that Angel has taste! I mean look at him!”
Which Buffy promptly did again, since Angel looked utterly stunning and drop-dead gorgeous in a charcoal grey suit and dark purple silk shirt (top button undone). Her brain went to a strange clouded over place, because OMG the pretty! She could watch him all day. Except she had a Spike to dress.
So reluctantly she tore her eyes away. “It’s not even like it’s got a reindeer on or anything. It’s nice!”
Spike scowled at her. Buffy felt like banging her head against a wall.
“Angel - tell him!”
“It’s very nice and you’re being an idiot!”
Spike looked from face to face, stubbornness engraved on his features.
“It’s white! And I’m not wearing it!”
“For crying out loud Spike - you don’t mind going out and getting yourself almost killed, but you won’t wear a sweater that your sort-of sister-in-law gets you?”
Silence.
Fine. She’d have to fight dirty then.
“I thought you wanted to make amends... and you can’t even do this one thing for me...”
That one hit home. He looked down, suddenly acquiescent.
“Fine,” he muttered, and with a deep sigh pulled the white sweater over his head.
And then Buffy’s head did strange things to her again, because the sweater mussed up his hair so it was suddenly going curly at the ends, and the white-blond curls combined with the bright white of the very tightly-fitting sweater somehow hit a ‘Spike-is-hot’ button that had never been hit before. How was she going to make it through a formal Christmas Day dinner day at The Council, including unspecified ‘amusements’ afterwards, without dragging both of them into a cupboard somewhere?
Logically she should not have an ounce of lustfulness left after last night, as the delicious aches all over her body testified to. They hadn’t stumbled through the door until a couple of hours before dawn, sleeping like dead for less than 3 hours before they had to get up and attempt to become presentable, as well as opening their presents - those that came with shiny bows...
As Buffy put in her very pretty new earrings (combined present from Spike and Angel) she was immensely grateful that she’d had the foresight to buy a long golden dress that went all the way down to the floor, although it had to be coupled with a red cardigan to cover her arms. She looked the picture of respectability, even though she’d be bringing two dates... Looking at them both she smiled devilishly - everyone might disapprove, but they would most certainly also be jealous.
******
A swift taxi journey later they were standing in The Council’s lobby yet again. Only a month had passed, but it felt like so much more - and this time they were just three random figures amidst the crowd... It seemed as though every Slayer had come, as well as every Watcher still alive. As they were admiring the huge Christmas tree next to the staircase that reached almost all the way up to the ceiling, Buffy heard a well known voice call her name.
Delightedly she turned around, just in time to be wrapped up in a big Faith-hug.
“Damn B! Respect!” Faith said, a wide grin on her face as she pulled away. “I see the rumours are true! And how are you, boys? Gotta say you two being here improves the look of the place no end!”
Then followed two more enthusiastic hugs, and Faith shook her head, impressed. “Go you for shaking up the system! Although that dress is kinda... conservative! Trying to look as proper as possible to impress the Old Guard?”
Buffy smiled wryly, since Faith’s own outfit barely fitted into the category of ‘dress’. It was very small and very red, and showcased her attributes to great effect.
“Bruises,” she explained, and Faith chuckled, raising an eyebrow and showing off her dimples. “I’m guessing that the story about needing a bigger bed is true too?”
“Most definitely!” Spike said. “Got it already and very big it is too! Plenty of space for one more if you ever feel like joining in...”
He was happily surveying Faith, and Buffy and Angel automatically chorused, “Shut up Spike!”
“What? C’mon Angel, don’t tell me you’re not checking her out!”
Angel was obviously not going to be dragged into any male bonding and curtly replied, “Faith is my friend!”
Spike rolled his eyes, and conspiratorially leaned forwards to Faith. “He’s just jealous because I’m checking out another brunette. Doesn’t like the competition!”
Faith’s eyes widened quite perceptibly and looked from Spike to Angel. “Whoa! Did you just say - So... there’s more to this than just Buffy?“
Spike grinned, sending Angel a flirtatious look, and Faith turned to Buffy, who nodded slightly nervously and wondered what would happen now.
“Dude! Seriously?” Faith appeared to be actually stumped for once and Spike elbowed Angel.
“I think we shocked her. Didn’t know that was possible!”
“Hey - just... surprised.” Faith was busily recovering. “I mean you think you know someone and then...”
She looked at Angel and frowned. “How the hell did I not know that you swung that way?”
Buffy was watching carefully. She’d hardly gotten a single word out of Angel on the subject, and none out of Spike except what he’d told her on that first morning. Her friends - those who knew about it - did their best to pretend that they didn’t. It would seem that Faith wasn’t so reticent.
Angel looked about as uncomfortable as it was possible to be, but seeing as everyone was waiting for him to answer he finally replied through clenched teeth.
“I don’t... swing that way.”
“So - what? You’re straight, but like sleeping with a guy? Sounds like someone’s in denial!”
For once Spike was being silent, his eyes dancing with amusement, and Angel was obviously trying to work out what to say.
“It’s... family,” he finally said, and Faith appeared to roll this over in her mind.
“So it’s like a vampire thing?” she said, and then suddenly turned to Buffy. “Is there something about that in The Handbook? Should we know this?”
“No idea. Never read it. I don’t think so.”
“There’s also the fact that I happen to be very, very good-looking!” Spike chimed in, smugly, and Faith grinned.
“No keeping him down, is there?”
Spike lifted an eyebrow. “That was quite a mouthful young lady! Careful now!”
Buffy rolled her eyes, even though having someone be comfortable enough to joke about the situation was wonderfully refreshing. “Is the double entendre squad going to finish anytime soon?”
“Probably not!” Spike grinned, and Buffy was about to reply when Xander joined.
“Hello everyone and Merry Christmas!” he said brightly, smiling at Faith and Buffy and acknowledging Spike and Angel with a small nod. “What’s today’s topic?”
Faith, blunt as usual, answered. “Those two being sex buddies!”
She waved towards the vampires in question, and Xander did a double take, then laughed uneasily.
“Very funny Faith. Ha ha.”
“You know, that’s very hurtful Xander,” Spike said, face suddenly serious. “Angel and I take our relationship very seriously - don’t we sweetheart?” He turned and looked at Angel with utter adoration on his face, as he took one of Angel’s hands and laced their fingers together.
There was a beat, and Buffy was waiting for Angel to punch Spike across the lobby. But instead the strangest look flitted across his face, before he turned to Spike, eyes soft and mellow. Slowly he lifted up their entwined hands and planted a kiss on the back of Spike’s hand as he turned to Xander.
“Indeed. We were planning a June wedding. And don’t you think Spike looks pretty in white?”
Faith was speechless for the second time in five minutes, Spike - although keeping his smile firmly in place - was obviously considering punching Angel across the lobby, and Xander had gone very pale under his tan.
“OK - the mental images from that little joke are going to give me nightmares for years! I’m going to go find Willow now and see if she has invented any new forgetting spells. Alternatively she could could just teleport me to the savannah close to some hungry lions - that should also take care of it! Have a nice day!”
With these words he turned around and walked off.
“Considering that his best friend is gay, he’s not very open-minded,” Spike observed to no one in particular.
“Young people nowadays,” Angel added, shaking his head.
Buffy looked at them, not very pleased at all.
“You two are in so much trouble!” she said, before running after Xander.
“It was worth it!” she heard Spike call out, as she caught up with her friend.
Feeling her hand on his arm he stopped and turned around, and she smiled apologetically.
“I’m sorry Xander...”
“Buffy,” he cut in, “I’m trying here, OK? I mean - I know they love you and all that, but it isn’t easy. And that last bit was... I have no words! And really, that’s saying something!”
She bit her lip. “OK the whole wedding thing was stupid, but... Faith’s wasn’t joking. They are - or at least were - sleeping together.”
Xander scanned her face, looking for the slightest trace that she was having him on, and then swallowed. “Now I really need a mindwipe...” he stopped and suddenly got a strangely panicky look on his face. “Spike lived with me! For weeks!”
Buffy bit her lip, trying her best not to smile and not succeeding very well. “They’re not gay - or at least so they say. As far as I can figure out it’s some sort of vampires-only thing. I really don’t know much ‘cause they refuse to talk about it. Just - please don’t let them get to you. Things have been a bit... complicated, and we’re still trying to work things out, OK? They’re just releasing steam.”
Xander nodded. “Fine. I’ll repress. They just - seem to be a bad influence on each other!”
“So were you!” she pointed out, as she remembered two Xanders laughing together.
“Huh?” She’d obviously lost him. “That time when you got split in two-” she didn’t get any further, because she suddenly remembered something else.
“Oh! Anya! She wanted to keep both of you...” She smiled triumphantly, and then added, “See? I’m not such a freak after all!”
Xander was staring at her, the memory obviously resurfacing and then he smiled back, that sweet lopsided smile that she’d not seen for quite a while.
“I guess,” he said, before having another thought: “Oh - does Willow know about... those two?”
Buffy nodded. “I think she’s repressing too!”
“One of the many handy skills gained in Sunnydale,” he replied, shaking his head, but eyes still smiling. “I should go see her - she wanted my help with something. See you at dinner time!”
“OK,” she smiled, and watched him walk off. Well that had gone... a lot better than expected.
When she got back to the others, Spike and Angel were not in the least penitent, and Faith was still chuckling. Before Buffy could get in a reprimand, Spike’s eyes lit up.
“Hey - it’s Andrew! Let’s go intimidate him. I’ll point out where I bit him, and you can lick your lips and growl!”
Angel grinned, and the two of them vanished with vampire speed.
“Got your hands full there,” Faith observed, and Buffy nodded. “It’s worth it - really, truly, but...” her voice drifted off, watching the two of them, light and dark, identical stances, heads tilted, as Andrew’s face turned paler than she’d thought possible.
“But?” Faith prompted, and Buffy shook her head. “Was I speaking? Sorry, kinda zoned out. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night... and they’re so pretty...”
Faith did that low throaty chuckle that always sounded dirty, and put her arm around Buffy. “Girl, you’ve got it made!”
Buffy turned to look at her, gratefulness in her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re back!”
“Have the others been giving you grief? Don’t worry sister, I’ve got your back!” Faith was smiling, but there was deep sincerity underneath her words, and Buffy allowed herself to relax a little. She’d been missing Faith intensely these last few weeks, because she’d known that Faith would understand. The two of them had become surprisingly close this past year and a half... both of them remembering far too well what things had been like before Slayers came in hundreds. And Faith really could be ‘the good Slayer’ now... murder was obviously a far lesser crime than sleeping with the undead - or so it sometimes seemed to Buffy, recently. Giles had never actually said anything outright, but she knew that there were people - mostly Watchers - who saw her as a traitor and her vampires as abominations. Although that was not exactly new - having to face them was.
Their conversation was cut short by Dawn who bounced across the lobby, as excited as Tigger, informing Buffy that she’d managed to get most of her professors seated close by Spike and Angel so they could see them eating, since none of them believed that vampires ate actual food. Buffy sighed deeply and buried her head in her hands.
******
Dinner was surprisingly uneventful until towards the end of the main course, when Spike suddenly lifted his head, ignoring Dawn’s long tale of what she was getting up to at The Academy and fixed his eyes on one of the elderly ‘Old Brigade’ Watchers halfway up their table and asked in a voice that, although quiet, carried far.
“Pardon me?”
It took a moment before there was a reaction, but when the Watcher looked up, Spike addressed him directly.
“Forgot that vampires have good hearing? How very careless - of a Watcher no less! Although that’s not really the issue, is it? ‘M just a street ruffian after all, uncouth and unmannered, who doesn’t have anythin’ to do in a place like this... being a vampire and saving the world aside! Did I get the gist of it there?”
Silence had fallen around most of the table now, and Buffy felt paralysed. The other tables had obviously not noticed, for which small mercy she was grateful. Spike slowly picked up his wineglass, taking a leisurely sip, before looking up again. “An’ here I was thinking that the class system was dead...”
The Watcher was silent and stiff as a rod, obviously unwilling to offer any sort of apology.
Spike shook his head, a cold smile on his face. “Oh the joys of the upper middle class! If I had the choice between a drawing room and hell, I’d choose hell. An’ having tried both, I’d be makin’ an informed choice!”
The Watcher matched Spike’s smile and replied, making no attempt to hide his contempt. “Well we have all read about what William The Bloody did to the drawing rooms of London...”
“Of course!” Spike replied, voice deceptively smooth. “Ever wondered why?”
The Watcher shrugged, dismissive. “Retribution against his betters and common envy of that which he could not understand.”
Buffy was struck speechless at such incredible rudeness and had to quell a sudden impulse for violence, but Spike was eerily calm. He took a deep breath, and Buffy could have sworn that the look in his eyes was just like Angelus’s.
“Well, being a little better versed in my own affairs than people working with only hearsay and their own prejudices, allow me to add a few... corrections.”
Looking around at the faces hanging on his words, he suddenly smiled easily, as though discussing the weather. “See, it just so happens that once upon a time I used to be a decent, respectable upper-class Victorian gentleman! Thorough education at public school and university, a staunch supporter of The Empire and a Conservative - naturally - and with enough of an inheritance to ensure that I never had to actually do anything as common as work!” He fixed the astonished looking Watcher in a steely gaze and added, “Becomin’ a vampire was like entering paradise after a lifetime spent in purgatory!”
He looked around at the stunned faces and grinned. “Now, you can all go add that to your textbooks. Call it a Christmas present and a lesson all in one! Oh - and if people could learn the difference between minion and Childe that would be really helpful! Considerin’ that vampires are supposed to be your speciality...”
He shook his head, clearly thinking very little of The Council’s expertise.
Angel, who had so far been quietly observing, looked up abruptly. “They don’t know the difference between a minion and a Childe?”
Spike quirked an eyebrow. “Got bored reading about W&H and started researching myself. At least half the books put me as your minion!”
Angel’s face clouded over. “We’ll have to talk to Giles about that. Offspring of mine labelled a minion...”
“Ah... now this brings up an old argument,” a tall bespectacled Watcher a little further up the table remarked. “Mr Angel-”
He stopped, obviously unsure if this was the correct way of addressing Angel, but the vampire nodded. “Mr Angel is fine.”
“Very good. Mr Angel, I noticed that you referred to Mr Spike as your ‘offspring’ - there have long been discussions as to who sired William the Bloody which I am sure you can clear up for us... and as regards the minion/Childe conundrum, then it has often seemed as though the lines can fluctuate a great deal. I would be most grateful for any insights you could provide.”
“Where to start?” Angel said, leaning back in the chair, thoughtful. This man was obviously one of those prizing knowledge and information above all else, and Buffy would bet that he got as excited over books as Giles. And as Angel began speaking, she could almost see him making notes in his head.
“See minions are drones, and as long as they’re bright enough to follow instructions that’s enough - basically they’re disposable. A Childe is chosen with care - they’re special, a companion that you’ll hopefully spend forever with. Now Spike is an interesting example, because although Sired by Dru, I was the one who handled all his teaching...”
Buffy looked mournfully at Spike. “It’s Christmas and you’re both talking shop. What did I do wrong?”
“Brought us to The Council?” he suggested, and she laughed, before yawning involuntarily. The rest of the table had started talking again, although she was sure that most of them were discussing Spike and Angel now... presuming they hadn’t been doing so before of course.
She sat back, automatically filtering out Dawn’s voice - she was busy quizzing Spike again - and half-listened to Angel expounding on vampire relationships and history. There wasn’t anything new in the information, but she noticed something odd... when speaking of Spike a strange backwards note of pride crept into his voice. Yet another piece for her puzzle. Because they really were a puzzle - she could figure them out individually, but together they were a mystery! And how they got together was even more of a mystery... But then a waiter filled up her glass again, and she lost the thread of her thoughts.
******
More than an hour later the largest of the ‘drawing rooms’ was filled to the brim with Slayers and Watchers, chattering and milling around. Spike had somehow managed to find a nice armchair, and Buffy was snuggled up in his lap, both of them doing their best not to fall asleep. She could glimpse Angel at the other side of the room, deep in conversation with Faith, and suddenly recalling her musings at the table, she turned to Spike and poked him. They were always easier to get talking when on their own.
“Huh?” he said, blinking and trying to pretend that he hadn’t nodded off.
“How did you and Angel end up in bed?”
His eyes grew wide at the unexpected question, and then he looked down, reluctant as usual. She put a finger under his chin and lifted his face back up.
“Look - you know everything about me and Angel, and Angel knows everything about me and you, but I know jack squat about you two! It’s not fair!”
He watched her face, pondering. Then with a sudden mischievous smile answered.
“Well, I guess you could say I seduced him.”
Buffy blinked. “You seduced him?” She shook her head, dumbfounded. “What the hell does that even mean? Did you take him out to a candlelit dinner or... like... hit him over the head with a cricket bat?”
“Ha! Cricket bat! Someone’s been in England too long!” Spike’s face was so smug she felt like hitting him with a cricket bat. She frowned, frustrated at the diversion. “Spike! Why won’t you talk about it?”
Then he suddenly looked past her with alarm on his face. “Oh no he won’t...” he muttered, and Buffy turned to see Andrew standing up, asking who’d like to play charades.
“Oi! You lot!” Spike called out, and most of the room went quiet and turned to look at him, Buffy included. What was he up to now?
“Right! I’ve got a conundrum for you...” He looked around, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “If cavemen and astronauts had a fight, who’d win?”
There was a moment’s silence, then Andrew piped up. “Oh that’s easy...”
And Spike settled back in the chair, a satisfied look on his face, as a host of arguments broke out simultaneously.
But Buffy wasn’t so easily swayed from her fact-finding mission.
“What do you mean you seduced him?” she asked again, and Spike looked at her tiredly and sighed.
“Sorry pet, but...” he stopped and his eyes grew distant. “That’s all you’re gettin’. I can’t...”
He shook his head, eyes unwittingly drawn to Angel, and the expression on his face was such an odd mix of emotions that Buffy resigned herself to ignorance for the time being.
But what had he meant by ‘seduced’?
******
June 2004, somewhere ‘underground’.
It had been 5 weeks since the alley. It always came back to the alley in Angel's mind... Five weeks of trying to hide from the Senior Partners, but unable to hide from the ever-present pain and guilt and uncertainty. It constrained him from all sides, weighed him down until he felt like curling up in a ball, away from the condemnation of his own mind. He should have died in that alley - living was a fate he wasn’t sure he could cope with anymore.
It had been a particularly long and difficult night, and before they'd managed to find the place they were now staying Spike had become completely insufferable. Why couldn't he be quiet just once? Angel had managed to quell the strong urge to hit him, but it had been a close call... As he sank into the bed - only bothering to remove his coat and boots - he sincerely wished that they hadn't been forced to sleep in a double bed, although he knew that a bed was better than nothing. ‘Nothing’ being not far below on the list. The place was a demon hide-out of the worst kind - dirty, dingy and with several different kinds of bloodstains on the walls and floor. There had even been a group of Hellions out front that Spike had for some reason been unable to leave alone, and Angel had been forced to drag him away... But this was a place where no one asked questions and everyone took great care to forget you. So exactly what they needed.
Eventually Angel drifted off and his dreams transported him back to a day in early 1882... young William had been even more obnoxious than usual, and Angelus had taken great pleasure in trying to teach him his place - so far nothing had worked, but maybe with time the colt could be harnessed.
He was woken very abruptly when Spike kicked him out of bed.
Blinking against the darkness of the room and the acute pain in his back, he saw Spike's face over the edge of the bed, watching him half-bemused. "Sorry Granddad, but you were getting a bit rambunctious and talkative. Enjoy your trip down memory lane?"
Angel tried to feign ignorance, but Spike of course was having none of it. "Please - I happen to remember that night rather well myself. Something about... finding new and interesting ways of tying me up and other such fun exercises, including timing exactly how long it took before I begged for mercy. All in the name of teaching me respect for my elders... As far as I recall you had a very good time! Although I was surprised that respect involved quite so much buggery... Funny that, what with having been to public school and all, but that had never featured in my lessons before."
Oh god. Angel buried his face in his hands. Was there no end to his litany of sins? Even Spike had been his victim... if he could blush his face would have been burning thinking about all the things he had done to him. His special hobby for years - trying to see how many ways he could try to break little Willy. He'd always won the physical fights, asserting his authority and supremacy, and every time Spike had bounced right back, willpower undented. But Spike was right - he had enjoyed himself. Had taken immense pleasure in all the things he’d done...
Slowly he lifted his head. “Look - Spike...” he swallowed, wondering why he was doing this, and why now. Maybe because there probably would never be anyone else he could apologise to.
“I’m sorry... I’m sorry for what I did to you. All the... for everything.”
Spike, who had propped himself up on his elbows, like a girl at a slumber party, stared at him, his eyebrows going up about 2 inches. His surprise was obvious, but after a moment his eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, studying Angel.
“No you’re not,” he said, matter-of-factly.
It took a few seconds for his reply to sink in, and then Angel could feel the anger he had been forgetting quickly rising again. Here he was, extending an olive branch, and the bastard threw it back in his face? Before he could say something, however, Spike continued.
“Not all of it, anyway. Of course you regret some of it - like pretty much anything to do with Dru I should think - but the other stuff? Oh no. You still dream about it, and those dreams? Aren’t nightmares!”
He looked at Angel; and Angel stared back, silenced. “See Angel, don’t forget that I happen to be the only other creature in existence who knows exactly how you feel. And when you remember those times, they feel good. And you wish they didn’t, so then you feel guilty. Vicious circle you can’t get out of, ain’t that right?”
Angel didn’t answer. There were times when Spike was so frighteningly accurate that it scared him.
“Well then, let me tell you a little story about me and Buffy...” Spike suddenly frowned. “Are you comfy down there? There’s plenty of room up here if you get bored of sittin’ on the floor!”
Angel silently shook his head. He wasn’t getting back on that bed, that was for sure. And if Spike was going to talk about Buffy... maybe it was some sort of pay-back?
“Now I’m not going to go into any details, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate, but Buffy and I had a lot - and I mean a lot - of sex. Blow-your-mind stuff, but it was fucked up from beginning to end - for a start I didn’t have a soul...” Spike stopped himself, obviously not wanting to expound on the subject.
“Anyway, the reason I’m telling you this is because Buffy taught me something.”
Spike sat himself up, a tiny gleaming jeans-clad Buddha on the edge of the bed.
“You see - things got better. After I got my soul, and she got over being brought back to life. We were on the edge of an apocalypse, and still it was the best time of my life!”
Angel’s eyes were wide with wonder. What was Spike doing? Why tell him this now? After a moment’s silence Spike raised his eyes and sought out Angel’s face.
“We didn’t have long, but in a few nights we put a helluva lot of badness away. She stopped pulling away and holding back - which goodness knows she was more than entitled to - and actually let me be... close.”
There was a pause, and Angel didn’t know what to say. This was as unexpected as his own apology. Then in a flash Spike was in front of him on the floor.
“So you see - what I’m tryin’ to say is that it can get better! No matter what happened in the past, you can start afresh. And it will be better! That’s what Buffy taught me, and what I’m tryin’ to tell you now!”
Angel stared at Spike, searching his face, unsure. Spike suddenly grinned and moved back a little. “Or - because obviously I have to spell this out with big pictures and diagrams - we don’t have to stick to bickerin’ and fightin’. There is another option. I know you got it on with Nina, so clearly the century long celibacy isn’t working for you anymore, and frankly I’d rather stake myself than go through that. And since now there’s only me and you left and we’re stuck with each other... What do you say?” He tilted his head and motioned towards the bed.
Apparently Spike had gone insane, because Angel couldn’t - and wouldn’t - think of any other reason why he was coming on to him. Yes, it had to be insanity... Silently he shook his head.
Spike smiled an oddly soft smile, and leaned forward again. “Listen Champion, I’m no longer a starry-eyed fledgling, and the only one you’re mentally torturing these days is yourself...”
Angel still sat tight. Spike sighed and rubbed his face, thinking.
“You know how you told me about your kid? How you sacrificed everything for his sake, so he’d be happy? Well now... this prodigal son is asking you to sacrifice some of that uptight prissiness of yours so he’ll be happy. Let go a little. Because - crazy as this may sound - I’m also trying to make you happy! Five weeks of non-stop brooding ain’t healthy! Yes, everyone else might be dead, but we’re not! And I’m right here - for fuck’s sake Angel, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.” He sighed, frustrated. “Why won’t you let me help you?”
Angel felt like there were lumps of ice in his stomach, but his head was burning up. No matter how much he longed - except he didn’t long for it, no, he couldn’t - it was impossible. And he didn’t want help - he wanted leaving alone! He remembered being alone and it seemed like bliss. Because he knew that these things never worked out... the last few years had taught him that much. And why was Spike unable to understand that letting go was dangerous? Also - just because he could appreciate Spike’s good looks objectively, it didn’t mean...
Then Spike got a very determined look in his eyes, muttering to himself. “Too bloody stubborn. Let’s try something else...”
Angel closed his eyes, unable to actually turn any of his jumbled thoughts into spoken arguments, and then he felt Spike’s hands carefully undoing the buttons on his shirt. This should be his cue to kick Spike across the room, and yet he appeared to be paralysed.
There was a sudden pause, and he opened his eyes to see Spike frozen on the spot, staring at his chest. “I... just remembered having done this before. Hot pokers... awful music...”
He lifted his eyes, scrutinising Angel’s face. “I’m sorry...” he began, then suddenly took a sharp breath. “Bugger - the guy, Marcus... he liked children!” He swallowed - dismayed, eyes wide with guilt. “You killed him right? Before he hurt anyone else?”
Angel nodded silently, and Spike sighed in relief, before deftly pulling the shirt off his shoulders.
Then before Angel could react Spike’s hands were holding his head, and their faces were less than an inch apart. The combination of scent and touch was affecting in ways Angel found impossible to ignore, and he suddenly felt vertiginous.
Then Spike spoke again.
“Angel, you’re a demon... just for once follow your blood!” he said earnestly, before slowly leaning in to kiss him.
In times past it had always been a power struggle. Angelus had taken, and William had resisted every step of the way. But now all that power and determination was channelled in the other direction. Angel found himself getting lost in Spike’s kiss, and soon his body, and it was unlike anything he’d ever envisaged. Not only was Spike giving Angel free reign, he was determined to give his all in return. It felt like having futilely tried to pull open a door with no success, and then to have the owner suddenly unlock it from the other side. Angel could feel something loosen inside, a hidden corner full of secret desires, primal and wild, and as he opened up Spike responded with joyful, unbound passion. And somewhere in the midst of all this, Angel understood that he never had to count William The Bloody amongst his sins anymore, and he was grateful.
Much later, when they were curled up together in the bed Angel had initially so abhorred, sated and spent and nearly asleep, Spike moved his head a fraction of an inch and whispered in Angel’s ear:
“Cavemen win.”
And for the first time since the battle in the alley, Angel laughed.
******
Two hours later, the discussions were far from dying down. The only people not involved in the arguments were Buffy and Spike, who dearly wished to go home and get to bed, but were waiting for Angel to finish his conversation with Faith - the two of them still catching up after not seeing each other for several years - and a group of elderly Watchers, muttering amongst themselves.
Spike, having just finished a piece of Christmas cake that he deemed much inferior to what he’d had when he was a boy, was watching the arguments with great amusement. Buffy had finally allowed him to remove the sweater, and he was now displaying Dawn’s other present, a black T-shirt with the words ‘I saved the world and all I got was this lousy T-shirt’ emblazoned across the front. She’d made one for each Sunnydale veteran, and they had all been joyfully received.
Buffy followed Spike’s eyes, admiring Willow’s heated debate with one of the new Slayers, and then turned back to her vampire.
“Spike - why are you not joining in? It’s... unnatural for you not to argue.”
He smiled. “Oh, but I know the answer. Don’t want to spoil all their fun.”
“So,” she asked, “Who wins?”
“Cavemen!” he promptly replied.
Her head full of two hours’ worth of arguments, she frowned.
“Why?”
Spike grinned smugly, and moved his mouth right next to her ear, his arms pulling her very tight against him.
“Because cavemen have fire!” he whispered.
And as he captured her lips in an ardent kiss - causing bright flames to leap up inside - she knew exactly what he meant.
The End.
There is now a (S/A) prequel: Phoenix.
Thank you's to everyone who's been reading (and especially those who have rec'd it!), as well to
moscow_watcher for the icons and uglybusiness for the banner. And of course most of all to kathyh for all the marvellous beta work!This chapter I have to dedicate to
shapinglight for a number of different reasons - those of you who know her will probably work out why! *g* For people catching up - or reading from the start now it's finished - all chapters here.
And is there any way I can beg for feedback that I haven't already used? ::thinks:: Doubt it. But if you've read this far, I'd love to know! I hope that I've managed to make this threesome plausible, and that you like the wrap-up! Enjoy! :)
“No!”
“Spike...”
“No!”
“Please...”
“’M not wearing it. End of story.”
”Spike...” Buffy was getting very fed up. “It was Dawn’s Christmas present to you! She’ll be mad if you don’t wear it. It’s just a sweater...”
“Don’t care! And Angel didn’t get a sweater!” Spike’s voice was petulant now.
Buffy sighed. “That’s because she knows that Angel has taste! I mean look at him!”
Which Buffy promptly did again, since Angel looked utterly stunning and drop-dead gorgeous in a charcoal grey suit and dark purple silk shirt (top button undone). Her brain went to a strange clouded over place, because OMG the pretty! She could watch him all day. Except she had a Spike to dress.
So reluctantly she tore her eyes away. “It’s not even like it’s got a reindeer on or anything. It’s nice!”
Spike scowled at her. Buffy felt like banging her head against a wall.
“Angel - tell him!”
“It’s very nice and you’re being an idiot!”
Spike looked from face to face, stubbornness engraved on his features.
“It’s white! And I’m not wearing it!”
“For crying out loud Spike - you don’t mind going out and getting yourself almost killed, but you won’t wear a sweater that your sort-of sister-in-law gets you?”
Silence.
Fine. She’d have to fight dirty then.
“I thought you wanted to make amends... and you can’t even do this one thing for me...”
That one hit home. He looked down, suddenly acquiescent.
“Fine,” he muttered, and with a deep sigh pulled the white sweater over his head.
And then Buffy’s head did strange things to her again, because the sweater mussed up his hair so it was suddenly going curly at the ends, and the white-blond curls combined with the bright white of the very tightly-fitting sweater somehow hit a ‘Spike-is-hot’ button that had never been hit before. How was she going to make it through a formal Christmas Day dinner day at The Council, including unspecified ‘amusements’ afterwards, without dragging both of them into a cupboard somewhere?
Logically she should not have an ounce of lustfulness left after last night, as the delicious aches all over her body testified to. They hadn’t stumbled through the door until a couple of hours before dawn, sleeping like dead for less than 3 hours before they had to get up and attempt to become presentable, as well as opening their presents - those that came with shiny bows...
As Buffy put in her very pretty new earrings (combined present from Spike and Angel) she was immensely grateful that she’d had the foresight to buy a long golden dress that went all the way down to the floor, although it had to be coupled with a red cardigan to cover her arms. She looked the picture of respectability, even though she’d be bringing two dates... Looking at them both she smiled devilishly - everyone might disapprove, but they would most certainly also be jealous.
A swift taxi journey later they were standing in The Council’s lobby yet again. Only a month had passed, but it felt like so much more - and this time they were just three random figures amidst the crowd... It seemed as though every Slayer had come, as well as every Watcher still alive. As they were admiring the huge Christmas tree next to the staircase that reached almost all the way up to the ceiling, Buffy heard a well known voice call her name.
Delightedly she turned around, just in time to be wrapped up in a big Faith-hug.
“Damn B! Respect!” Faith said, a wide grin on her face as she pulled away. “I see the rumours are true! And how are you, boys? Gotta say you two being here improves the look of the place no end!”
Then followed two more enthusiastic hugs, and Faith shook her head, impressed. “Go you for shaking up the system! Although that dress is kinda... conservative! Trying to look as proper as possible to impress the Old Guard?”
Buffy smiled wryly, since Faith’s own outfit barely fitted into the category of ‘dress’. It was very small and very red, and showcased her attributes to great effect.
“Bruises,” she explained, and Faith chuckled, raising an eyebrow and showing off her dimples. “I’m guessing that the story about needing a bigger bed is true too?”
“Most definitely!” Spike said. “Got it already and very big it is too! Plenty of space for one more if you ever feel like joining in...”
He was happily surveying Faith, and Buffy and Angel automatically chorused, “Shut up Spike!”
“What? C’mon Angel, don’t tell me you’re not checking her out!”
Angel was obviously not going to be dragged into any male bonding and curtly replied, “Faith is my friend!”
Spike rolled his eyes, and conspiratorially leaned forwards to Faith. “He’s just jealous because I’m checking out another brunette. Doesn’t like the competition!”
Faith’s eyes widened quite perceptibly and looked from Spike to Angel. “Whoa! Did you just say - So... there’s more to this than just Buffy?“
Spike grinned, sending Angel a flirtatious look, and Faith turned to Buffy, who nodded slightly nervously and wondered what would happen now.
“Dude! Seriously?” Faith appeared to be actually stumped for once and Spike elbowed Angel.
“I think we shocked her. Didn’t know that was possible!”
“Hey - just... surprised.” Faith was busily recovering. “I mean you think you know someone and then...”
She looked at Angel and frowned. “How the hell did I not know that you swung that way?”
Buffy was watching carefully. She’d hardly gotten a single word out of Angel on the subject, and none out of Spike except what he’d told her on that first morning. Her friends - those who knew about it - did their best to pretend that they didn’t. It would seem that Faith wasn’t so reticent.
Angel looked about as uncomfortable as it was possible to be, but seeing as everyone was waiting for him to answer he finally replied through clenched teeth.
“I don’t... swing that way.”
“So - what? You’re straight, but like sleeping with a guy? Sounds like someone’s in denial!”
For once Spike was being silent, his eyes dancing with amusement, and Angel was obviously trying to work out what to say.
“It’s... family,” he finally said, and Faith appeared to roll this over in her mind.
“So it’s like a vampire thing?” she said, and then suddenly turned to Buffy. “Is there something about that in The Handbook? Should we know this?”
“No idea. Never read it. I don’t think so.”
“There’s also the fact that I happen to be very, very good-looking!” Spike chimed in, smugly, and Faith grinned.
“No keeping him down, is there?”
Spike lifted an eyebrow. “That was quite a mouthful young lady! Careful now!”
Buffy rolled her eyes, even though having someone be comfortable enough to joke about the situation was wonderfully refreshing. “Is the double entendre squad going to finish anytime soon?”
“Probably not!” Spike grinned, and Buffy was about to reply when Xander joined.
“Hello everyone and Merry Christmas!” he said brightly, smiling at Faith and Buffy and acknowledging Spike and Angel with a small nod. “What’s today’s topic?”
Faith, blunt as usual, answered. “Those two being sex buddies!”
She waved towards the vampires in question, and Xander did a double take, then laughed uneasily.
“Very funny Faith. Ha ha.”
“You know, that’s very hurtful Xander,” Spike said, face suddenly serious. “Angel and I take our relationship very seriously - don’t we sweetheart?” He turned and looked at Angel with utter adoration on his face, as he took one of Angel’s hands and laced their fingers together.
There was a beat, and Buffy was waiting for Angel to punch Spike across the lobby. But instead the strangest look flitted across his face, before he turned to Spike, eyes soft and mellow. Slowly he lifted up their entwined hands and planted a kiss on the back of Spike’s hand as he turned to Xander.
“Indeed. We were planning a June wedding. And don’t you think Spike looks pretty in white?”
Faith was speechless for the second time in five minutes, Spike - although keeping his smile firmly in place - was obviously considering punching Angel across the lobby, and Xander had gone very pale under his tan.
“OK - the mental images from that little joke are going to give me nightmares for years! I’m going to go find Willow now and see if she has invented any new forgetting spells. Alternatively she could could just teleport me to the savannah close to some hungry lions - that should also take care of it! Have a nice day!”
With these words he turned around and walked off.
“Considering that his best friend is gay, he’s not very open-minded,” Spike observed to no one in particular.
“Young people nowadays,” Angel added, shaking his head.
Buffy looked at them, not very pleased at all.
“You two are in so much trouble!” she said, before running after Xander.
“It was worth it!” she heard Spike call out, as she caught up with her friend.
Feeling her hand on his arm he stopped and turned around, and she smiled apologetically.
“I’m sorry Xander...”
“Buffy,” he cut in, “I’m trying here, OK? I mean - I know they love you and all that, but it isn’t easy. And that last bit was... I have no words! And really, that’s saying something!”
She bit her lip. “OK the whole wedding thing was stupid, but... Faith’s wasn’t joking. They are - or at least were - sleeping together.”
Xander scanned her face, looking for the slightest trace that she was having him on, and then swallowed. “Now I really need a mindwipe...” he stopped and suddenly got a strangely panicky look on his face. “Spike lived with me! For weeks!”
Buffy bit her lip, trying her best not to smile and not succeeding very well. “They’re not gay - or at least so they say. As far as I can figure out it’s some sort of vampires-only thing. I really don’t know much ‘cause they refuse to talk about it. Just - please don’t let them get to you. Things have been a bit... complicated, and we’re still trying to work things out, OK? They’re just releasing steam.”
Xander nodded. “Fine. I’ll repress. They just - seem to be a bad influence on each other!”
“So were you!” she pointed out, as she remembered two Xanders laughing together.
“Huh?” She’d obviously lost him. “That time when you got split in two-” she didn’t get any further, because she suddenly remembered something else.
“Oh! Anya! She wanted to keep both of you...” She smiled triumphantly, and then added, “See? I’m not such a freak after all!”
Xander was staring at her, the memory obviously resurfacing and then he smiled back, that sweet lopsided smile that she’d not seen for quite a while.
“I guess,” he said, before having another thought: “Oh - does Willow know about... those two?”
Buffy nodded. “I think she’s repressing too!”
“One of the many handy skills gained in Sunnydale,” he replied, shaking his head, but eyes still smiling. “I should go see her - she wanted my help with something. See you at dinner time!”
“OK,” she smiled, and watched him walk off. Well that had gone... a lot better than expected.
When she got back to the others, Spike and Angel were not in the least penitent, and Faith was still chuckling. Before Buffy could get in a reprimand, Spike’s eyes lit up.
“Hey - it’s Andrew! Let’s go intimidate him. I’ll point out where I bit him, and you can lick your lips and growl!”
Angel grinned, and the two of them vanished with vampire speed.
“Got your hands full there,” Faith observed, and Buffy nodded. “It’s worth it - really, truly, but...” her voice drifted off, watching the two of them, light and dark, identical stances, heads tilted, as Andrew’s face turned paler than she’d thought possible.
“But?” Faith prompted, and Buffy shook her head. “Was I speaking? Sorry, kinda zoned out. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night... and they’re so pretty...”
Faith did that low throaty chuckle that always sounded dirty, and put her arm around Buffy. “Girl, you’ve got it made!”
Buffy turned to look at her, gratefulness in her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re back!”
“Have the others been giving you grief? Don’t worry sister, I’ve got your back!” Faith was smiling, but there was deep sincerity underneath her words, and Buffy allowed herself to relax a little. She’d been missing Faith intensely these last few weeks, because she’d known that Faith would understand. The two of them had become surprisingly close this past year and a half... both of them remembering far too well what things had been like before Slayers came in hundreds. And Faith really could be ‘the good Slayer’ now... murder was obviously a far lesser crime than sleeping with the undead - or so it sometimes seemed to Buffy, recently. Giles had never actually said anything outright, but she knew that there were people - mostly Watchers - who saw her as a traitor and her vampires as abominations. Although that was not exactly new - having to face them was.
Their conversation was cut short by Dawn who bounced across the lobby, as excited as Tigger, informing Buffy that she’d managed to get most of her professors seated close by Spike and Angel so they could see them eating, since none of them believed that vampires ate actual food. Buffy sighed deeply and buried her head in her hands.
Dinner was surprisingly uneventful until towards the end of the main course, when Spike suddenly lifted his head, ignoring Dawn’s long tale of what she was getting up to at The Academy and fixed his eyes on one of the elderly ‘Old Brigade’ Watchers halfway up their table and asked in a voice that, although quiet, carried far.
“Pardon me?”
It took a moment before there was a reaction, but when the Watcher looked up, Spike addressed him directly.
“Forgot that vampires have good hearing? How very careless - of a Watcher no less! Although that’s not really the issue, is it? ‘M just a street ruffian after all, uncouth and unmannered, who doesn’t have anythin’ to do in a place like this... being a vampire and saving the world aside! Did I get the gist of it there?”
Silence had fallen around most of the table now, and Buffy felt paralysed. The other tables had obviously not noticed, for which small mercy she was grateful. Spike slowly picked up his wineglass, taking a leisurely sip, before looking up again. “An’ here I was thinking that the class system was dead...”
The Watcher was silent and stiff as a rod, obviously unwilling to offer any sort of apology.
Spike shook his head, a cold smile on his face. “Oh the joys of the upper middle class! If I had the choice between a drawing room and hell, I’d choose hell. An’ having tried both, I’d be makin’ an informed choice!”
The Watcher matched Spike’s smile and replied, making no attempt to hide his contempt. “Well we have all read about what William The Bloody did to the drawing rooms of London...”
“Of course!” Spike replied, voice deceptively smooth. “Ever wondered why?”
The Watcher shrugged, dismissive. “Retribution against his betters and common envy of that which he could not understand.”
Buffy was struck speechless at such incredible rudeness and had to quell a sudden impulse for violence, but Spike was eerily calm. He took a deep breath, and Buffy could have sworn that the look in his eyes was just like Angelus’s.
“Well, being a little better versed in my own affairs than people working with only hearsay and their own prejudices, allow me to add a few... corrections.”
Looking around at the faces hanging on his words, he suddenly smiled easily, as though discussing the weather. “See, it just so happens that once upon a time I used to be a decent, respectable upper-class Victorian gentleman! Thorough education at public school and university, a staunch supporter of The Empire and a Conservative - naturally - and with enough of an inheritance to ensure that I never had to actually do anything as common as work!” He fixed the astonished looking Watcher in a steely gaze and added, “Becomin’ a vampire was like entering paradise after a lifetime spent in purgatory!”
He looked around at the stunned faces and grinned. “Now, you can all go add that to your textbooks. Call it a Christmas present and a lesson all in one! Oh - and if people could learn the difference between minion and Childe that would be really helpful! Considerin’ that vampires are supposed to be your speciality...”
He shook his head, clearly thinking very little of The Council’s expertise.
Angel, who had so far been quietly observing, looked up abruptly. “They don’t know the difference between a minion and a Childe?”
Spike quirked an eyebrow. “Got bored reading about W&H and started researching myself. At least half the books put me as your minion!”
Angel’s face clouded over. “We’ll have to talk to Giles about that. Offspring of mine labelled a minion...”
“Ah... now this brings up an old argument,” a tall bespectacled Watcher a little further up the table remarked. “Mr Angel-”
He stopped, obviously unsure if this was the correct way of addressing Angel, but the vampire nodded. “Mr Angel is fine.”
“Very good. Mr Angel, I noticed that you referred to Mr Spike as your ‘offspring’ - there have long been discussions as to who sired William the Bloody which I am sure you can clear up for us... and as regards the minion/Childe conundrum, then it has often seemed as though the lines can fluctuate a great deal. I would be most grateful for any insights you could provide.”
“Where to start?” Angel said, leaning back in the chair, thoughtful. This man was obviously one of those prizing knowledge and information above all else, and Buffy would bet that he got as excited over books as Giles. And as Angel began speaking, she could almost see him making notes in his head.
“See minions are drones, and as long as they’re bright enough to follow instructions that’s enough - basically they’re disposable. A Childe is chosen with care - they’re special, a companion that you’ll hopefully spend forever with. Now Spike is an interesting example, because although Sired by Dru, I was the one who handled all his teaching...”
Buffy looked mournfully at Spike. “It’s Christmas and you’re both talking shop. What did I do wrong?”
“Brought us to The Council?” he suggested, and she laughed, before yawning involuntarily. The rest of the table had started talking again, although she was sure that most of them were discussing Spike and Angel now... presuming they hadn’t been doing so before of course.
She sat back, automatically filtering out Dawn’s voice - she was busy quizzing Spike again - and half-listened to Angel expounding on vampire relationships and history. There wasn’t anything new in the information, but she noticed something odd... when speaking of Spike a strange backwards note of pride crept into his voice. Yet another piece for her puzzle. Because they really were a puzzle - she could figure them out individually, but together they were a mystery! And how they got together was even more of a mystery... But then a waiter filled up her glass again, and she lost the thread of her thoughts.
More than an hour later the largest of the ‘drawing rooms’ was filled to the brim with Slayers and Watchers, chattering and milling around. Spike had somehow managed to find a nice armchair, and Buffy was snuggled up in his lap, both of them doing their best not to fall asleep. She could glimpse Angel at the other side of the room, deep in conversation with Faith, and suddenly recalling her musings at the table, she turned to Spike and poked him. They were always easier to get talking when on their own.
“Huh?” he said, blinking and trying to pretend that he hadn’t nodded off.
“How did you and Angel end up in bed?”
His eyes grew wide at the unexpected question, and then he looked down, reluctant as usual. She put a finger under his chin and lifted his face back up.
“Look - you know everything about me and Angel, and Angel knows everything about me and you, but I know jack squat about you two! It’s not fair!”
He watched her face, pondering. Then with a sudden mischievous smile answered.
“Well, I guess you could say I seduced him.”
Buffy blinked. “You seduced him?” She shook her head, dumbfounded. “What the hell does that even mean? Did you take him out to a candlelit dinner or... like... hit him over the head with a cricket bat?”
“Ha! Cricket bat! Someone’s been in England too long!” Spike’s face was so smug she felt like hitting him with a cricket bat. She frowned, frustrated at the diversion. “Spike! Why won’t you talk about it?”
Then he suddenly looked past her with alarm on his face. “Oh no he won’t...” he muttered, and Buffy turned to see Andrew standing up, asking who’d like to play charades.
“Oi! You lot!” Spike called out, and most of the room went quiet and turned to look at him, Buffy included. What was he up to now?
“Right! I’ve got a conundrum for you...” He looked around, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “If cavemen and astronauts had a fight, who’d win?”
There was a moment’s silence, then Andrew piped up. “Oh that’s easy...”
And Spike settled back in the chair, a satisfied look on his face, as a host of arguments broke out simultaneously.
But Buffy wasn’t so easily swayed from her fact-finding mission.
“What do you mean you seduced him?” she asked again, and Spike looked at her tiredly and sighed.
“Sorry pet, but...” he stopped and his eyes grew distant. “That’s all you’re gettin’. I can’t...”
He shook his head, eyes unwittingly drawn to Angel, and the expression on his face was such an odd mix of emotions that Buffy resigned herself to ignorance for the time being.
But what had he meant by ‘seduced’?
June 2004, somewhere ‘underground’.
It had been 5 weeks since the alley. It always came back to the alley in Angel's mind... Five weeks of trying to hide from the Senior Partners, but unable to hide from the ever-present pain and guilt and uncertainty. It constrained him from all sides, weighed him down until he felt like curling up in a ball, away from the condemnation of his own mind. He should have died in that alley - living was a fate he wasn’t sure he could cope with anymore.
It had been a particularly long and difficult night, and before they'd managed to find the place they were now staying Spike had become completely insufferable. Why couldn't he be quiet just once? Angel had managed to quell the strong urge to hit him, but it had been a close call... As he sank into the bed - only bothering to remove his coat and boots - he sincerely wished that they hadn't been forced to sleep in a double bed, although he knew that a bed was better than nothing. ‘Nothing’ being not far below on the list. The place was a demon hide-out of the worst kind - dirty, dingy and with several different kinds of bloodstains on the walls and floor. There had even been a group of Hellions out front that Spike had for some reason been unable to leave alone, and Angel had been forced to drag him away... But this was a place where no one asked questions and everyone took great care to forget you. So exactly what they needed.
Eventually Angel drifted off and his dreams transported him back to a day in early 1882... young William had been even more obnoxious than usual, and Angelus had taken great pleasure in trying to teach him his place - so far nothing had worked, but maybe with time the colt could be harnessed.
He was woken very abruptly when Spike kicked him out of bed.
Blinking against the darkness of the room and the acute pain in his back, he saw Spike's face over the edge of the bed, watching him half-bemused. "Sorry Granddad, but you were getting a bit rambunctious and talkative. Enjoy your trip down memory lane?"
Angel tried to feign ignorance, but Spike of course was having none of it. "Please - I happen to remember that night rather well myself. Something about... finding new and interesting ways of tying me up and other such fun exercises, including timing exactly how long it took before I begged for mercy. All in the name of teaching me respect for my elders... As far as I recall you had a very good time! Although I was surprised that respect involved quite so much buggery... Funny that, what with having been to public school and all, but that had never featured in my lessons before."
Oh god. Angel buried his face in his hands. Was there no end to his litany of sins? Even Spike had been his victim... if he could blush his face would have been burning thinking about all the things he had done to him. His special hobby for years - trying to see how many ways he could try to break little Willy. He'd always won the physical fights, asserting his authority and supremacy, and every time Spike had bounced right back, willpower undented. But Spike was right - he had enjoyed himself. Had taken immense pleasure in all the things he’d done...
Slowly he lifted his head. “Look - Spike...” he swallowed, wondering why he was doing this, and why now. Maybe because there probably would never be anyone else he could apologise to.
“I’m sorry... I’m sorry for what I did to you. All the... for everything.”
Spike, who had propped himself up on his elbows, like a girl at a slumber party, stared at him, his eyebrows going up about 2 inches. His surprise was obvious, but after a moment his eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, studying Angel.
“No you’re not,” he said, matter-of-factly.
It took a few seconds for his reply to sink in, and then Angel could feel the anger he had been forgetting quickly rising again. Here he was, extending an olive branch, and the bastard threw it back in his face? Before he could say something, however, Spike continued.
“Not all of it, anyway. Of course you regret some of it - like pretty much anything to do with Dru I should think - but the other stuff? Oh no. You still dream about it, and those dreams? Aren’t nightmares!”
He looked at Angel; and Angel stared back, silenced. “See Angel, don’t forget that I happen to be the only other creature in existence who knows exactly how you feel. And when you remember those times, they feel good. And you wish they didn’t, so then you feel guilty. Vicious circle you can’t get out of, ain’t that right?”
Angel didn’t answer. There were times when Spike was so frighteningly accurate that it scared him.
“Well then, let me tell you a little story about me and Buffy...” Spike suddenly frowned. “Are you comfy down there? There’s plenty of room up here if you get bored of sittin’ on the floor!”
Angel silently shook his head. He wasn’t getting back on that bed, that was for sure. And if Spike was going to talk about Buffy... maybe it was some sort of pay-back?
“Now I’m not going to go into any details, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate, but Buffy and I had a lot - and I mean a lot - of sex. Blow-your-mind stuff, but it was fucked up from beginning to end - for a start I didn’t have a soul...” Spike stopped himself, obviously not wanting to expound on the subject.
“Anyway, the reason I’m telling you this is because Buffy taught me something.”
Spike sat himself up, a tiny gleaming jeans-clad Buddha on the edge of the bed.
“You see - things got better. After I got my soul, and she got over being brought back to life. We were on the edge of an apocalypse, and still it was the best time of my life!”
Angel’s eyes were wide with wonder. What was Spike doing? Why tell him this now? After a moment’s silence Spike raised his eyes and sought out Angel’s face.
“We didn’t have long, but in a few nights we put a helluva lot of badness away. She stopped pulling away and holding back - which goodness knows she was more than entitled to - and actually let me be... close.”
There was a pause, and Angel didn’t know what to say. This was as unexpected as his own apology. Then in a flash Spike was in front of him on the floor.
“So you see - what I’m tryin’ to say is that it can get better! No matter what happened in the past, you can start afresh. And it will be better! That’s what Buffy taught me, and what I’m tryin’ to tell you now!”
Angel stared at Spike, searching his face, unsure. Spike suddenly grinned and moved back a little. “Or - because obviously I have to spell this out with big pictures and diagrams - we don’t have to stick to bickerin’ and fightin’. There is another option. I know you got it on with Nina, so clearly the century long celibacy isn’t working for you anymore, and frankly I’d rather stake myself than go through that. And since now there’s only me and you left and we’re stuck with each other... What do you say?” He tilted his head and motioned towards the bed.
Apparently Spike had gone insane, because Angel couldn’t - and wouldn’t - think of any other reason why he was coming on to him. Yes, it had to be insanity... Silently he shook his head.
Spike smiled an oddly soft smile, and leaned forward again. “Listen Champion, I’m no longer a starry-eyed fledgling, and the only one you’re mentally torturing these days is yourself...”
Angel still sat tight. Spike sighed and rubbed his face, thinking.
“You know how you told me about your kid? How you sacrificed everything for his sake, so he’d be happy? Well now... this prodigal son is asking you to sacrifice some of that uptight prissiness of yours so he’ll be happy. Let go a little. Because - crazy as this may sound - I’m also trying to make you happy! Five weeks of non-stop brooding ain’t healthy! Yes, everyone else might be dead, but we’re not! And I’m right here - for fuck’s sake Angel, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.” He sighed, frustrated. “Why won’t you let me help you?”
Angel felt like there were lumps of ice in his stomach, but his head was burning up. No matter how much he longed - except he didn’t long for it, no, he couldn’t - it was impossible. And he didn’t want help - he wanted leaving alone! He remembered being alone and it seemed like bliss. Because he knew that these things never worked out... the last few years had taught him that much. And why was Spike unable to understand that letting go was dangerous? Also - just because he could appreciate Spike’s good looks objectively, it didn’t mean...
Then Spike got a very determined look in his eyes, muttering to himself. “Too bloody stubborn. Let’s try something else...”
Angel closed his eyes, unable to actually turn any of his jumbled thoughts into spoken arguments, and then he felt Spike’s hands carefully undoing the buttons on his shirt. This should be his cue to kick Spike across the room, and yet he appeared to be paralysed.
There was a sudden pause, and he opened his eyes to see Spike frozen on the spot, staring at his chest. “I... just remembered having done this before. Hot pokers... awful music...”
He lifted his eyes, scrutinising Angel’s face. “I’m sorry...” he began, then suddenly took a sharp breath. “Bugger - the guy, Marcus... he liked children!” He swallowed - dismayed, eyes wide with guilt. “You killed him right? Before he hurt anyone else?”
Angel nodded silently, and Spike sighed in relief, before deftly pulling the shirt off his shoulders.
Then before Angel could react Spike’s hands were holding his head, and their faces were less than an inch apart. The combination of scent and touch was affecting in ways Angel found impossible to ignore, and he suddenly felt vertiginous.
Then Spike spoke again.
“Angel, you’re a demon... just for once follow your blood!” he said earnestly, before slowly leaning in to kiss him.
In times past it had always been a power struggle. Angelus had taken, and William had resisted every step of the way. But now all that power and determination was channelled in the other direction. Angel found himself getting lost in Spike’s kiss, and soon his body, and it was unlike anything he’d ever envisaged. Not only was Spike giving Angel free reign, he was determined to give his all in return. It felt like having futilely tried to pull open a door with no success, and then to have the owner suddenly unlock it from the other side. Angel could feel something loosen inside, a hidden corner full of secret desires, primal and wild, and as he opened up Spike responded with joyful, unbound passion. And somewhere in the midst of all this, Angel understood that he never had to count William The Bloody amongst his sins anymore, and he was grateful.
Much later, when they were curled up together in the bed Angel had initially so abhorred, sated and spent and nearly asleep, Spike moved his head a fraction of an inch and whispered in Angel’s ear:
“Cavemen win.”
And for the first time since the battle in the alley, Angel laughed.
Two hours later, the discussions were far from dying down. The only people not involved in the arguments were Buffy and Spike, who dearly wished to go home and get to bed, but were waiting for Angel to finish his conversation with Faith - the two of them still catching up after not seeing each other for several years - and a group of elderly Watchers, muttering amongst themselves.
Spike, having just finished a piece of Christmas cake that he deemed much inferior to what he’d had when he was a boy, was watching the arguments with great amusement. Buffy had finally allowed him to remove the sweater, and he was now displaying Dawn’s other present, a black T-shirt with the words ‘I saved the world and all I got was this lousy T-shirt’ emblazoned across the front. She’d made one for each Sunnydale veteran, and they had all been joyfully received.
Buffy followed Spike’s eyes, admiring Willow’s heated debate with one of the new Slayers, and then turned back to her vampire.
“Spike - why are you not joining in? It’s... unnatural for you not to argue.”
He smiled. “Oh, but I know the answer. Don’t want to spoil all their fun.”
“So,” she asked, “Who wins?”
“Cavemen!” he promptly replied.
Her head full of two hours’ worth of arguments, she frowned.
“Why?”
Spike grinned smugly, and moved his mouth right next to her ear, his arms pulling her very tight against him.
“Because cavemen have fire!” he whispered.
And as he captured her lips in an ardent kiss - causing bright flames to leap up inside - she knew exactly what he meant.
There is now a (S/A) prequel: Phoenix.
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The more things change... ;)
Hee, I was just imagining that tableaux of expectation.
I had far, far too much fun writing that!
And also loved Angel and Spike gangin up on Xander. No way was Angel going to let him have the last laugh :D
Indeed - and poor Xander. Spike and Angel are pretty formidable when they're working together!
Great closing line of Spike's!
It's nice when I know the ending when I start. Doesn't happen all that often!
And fun t-shirt too :>
*g*
Thank you so much for reading and all your feedback! So glad you liked it. :) Oh and your icon is *fantastic*!