Explore the unknown

Of Kings and Men

2008-03-24T02:24:16Z

Spring break is finally here and I have finally found time to put pen to paper (metaphorically). Happy Easter to everyone!

Title: Of Kings and Men
Pairing: S/A(us), S/X, S/B, mentions of S/Cecily
Rating: Rish
Disclaimer: Do I look like Joss Whedon? (Please don’t answer that)
Summary: AU. What are the obsessions of Kings and men? Darkish, kinda angsty fic with a hint of non-con.
Notes: Dedicated to darlaslilgirl. This is inspired by her fantabulous manips found here. I just couldn’t resist. They are so gorgeous. Hope that my humble offering has done them justice.

The whisper of silk fluttered around him like the flapping of a hummingbird’s wings, quick and dizzying. He sighed as another pair of cloying, perfumed breasts was thrust almost right up his nose.

“If you could excuse me…” Spike stood up from his opulent dais with determination, barely preventing himself from gritting his teeth as the wenches swarmed around him with wails of disappointment and last minute attempts to garner his favor.

As gently as he could, he pushed past all the coy glances and the subtle lingering hands, making his way towards the courtyard, praying that the women would find other more alluring prey to obsess themselves with before he had to return for the royal feast. It didn’t matter how many times he hinted at his proclivity for men. The harpies seemed convinced that their excellent skills would soon win him over from the “rough and inexperienced fumblings of mere boys.”

As if they could compare…

He breathed in deeply of freedom and nighttime air as the crisp, outside breeze filtered through his heavy, confining garments and refreshed his senses. Yanking impatiently at the stiff collar, uncaring of the image of impropriety he would present to anyone who he might happen upon, he sank down upon a stone bench, relieved to be away from all the gossip and politics of the court for the moment.

If it weren’t for the chance of seeing the object of his reluctant desire, he wouldn’t even attend such a farce. He snorted. “Small, intimate gathering,” his arse. It was just a way for all the Kings to posture and strut around while ugly bints cooed and inflated royal egos with their shameless prostitution.

Thank the graces that his reputation kept most of the impotent fools from approaching him for “civil conversation.” Sadly, the ladies in waiting had no qualms. And not much better conversational skills either.

He sighed again. What wouldn’t he give to be back at his own court where his subjects knew better than to approach him without his permission?

“King Spike…” Spike turned, startled at the sound of another man’s voice from a close proximity. He hadn’t even heard the approaching footsteps.

Blue orbs darted up to meet shy brown eyes that dropped away as cheeks flushed a soft, sweet color that eclipsed even that of the roses in full bloom around them. Spike wondered if they would glow as pretty a shade when he had the man-boy in his bed.

As if suddenly remembering his manners, Spike arose from the bench gracefully and bowed slightly in greeting. His mind ransacked for a name to put to this strangely familiar face but it eluded him.

“Allow me to confess my ignorance and apologies in not knowing your name,” he offered charismatically.

The tall brunette blushed even more, dark curls falling around his face as he ducked his head bashfully. “Alexander, new King of Sundalia, at your service,” he mumbled, bowing endearingly awkwardly in return.

Alexander.

Spike rolled the name around his tongue, tasting it like fine wine. It meant protector or defender, a fitting name for a boy with loyal, puppy brown eyes, eager and willing to follow anyone who offered him a little affection. Perhaps, he just might be the one to protect Spike from the blonde King’s unnatural obsession.

“You look a little heated, pet,” the older man remarked casually. “Perhaps, you should remove some of your heavy garments to relieve your distress.” He patted the spot on the bench next to him invitingly.

Alexander bit his lip uncertainly. “But won’t that be most improper?”

Spike’s smile could have charmed the knickers off the most stubborn of matrons. “If you won’t tell, I won’t tell,” he cajoled in a lazy drawl.

Bending to the primal force of the blonde man’s unrelenting appeal, Alexander quickly pulled his intricately knitted royal wool vest off, tugging open his linen white shirt as well before dropping onto the bench next to Spike. He sneaked a peek at his languidly sprawled companion, seeking some sort of sign that he was doing something right. He wanted so desperately for this most respected and feared of all Kings to like him, to see him as a fitting companion, to pay him attention…hell, something, anything would do.

When beats of silence had drummed in his head long enough, he began fidgeting. His sight swiveled towards the relaxed figure, who appeared to be slumbering. He took the time to admire the strong planes and angles of Spike’s face, illuminated in the pale moonlight, and the full, lush lips that looked like they belonged more to one of those persistent, frightful wenches of the court than a fierce warrior King. If the women had looked at all like this man, perhaps he might not have evaded their lips. The thought surprised him, for he had never dreamed that he would be attracted to men but on second thought, who would not be, to this man?

From the moment he had caught sight of the small, lean, wiry King, Alexander had felt a strange, irresistible pull towards the man and looking around the room, he had noticed that he wasn’t the only one. Kings and ladies of the court alike had tracked Spike’s progress around the room with covetous eyes though none, except the most persistent women, had dared approach the awe-inspiring figure, who was a legend among warriors, second only to one. When the King had wearily escaped the stifling attentions of the royal bitches, Alexander had found his feet discreetly trailing after the majestic presence.

He had followed the blonde out to the courtyard, careful to keep a certain amount of distance between them. After Spike had collapsed on one of the stone benches tucked away from view, he had debated on what to do next. Should he approach the King before someone else came along and stole his opportunity?

As he had hemmed and hawed like the hag that his cousin had always called him disdainfully, Spike had stripped down to just the standard linen shirt that all Kings wore for their official activities. The revealed muscular chest with just a light dusting of hair had left Alexander dry-mouthed. Like a pond to a thirsty man, the image had drawn him from his hiding place and before he knew it, he was sitting here next to the blonde King, God.

Turning his attention back to the present, he slid admiring eyes further down the perfect body and was confronted with a heavy bulge, outlined by the tight leather breeches molded to Spike’s form like a second skin. Feeling his blush renew itself, his gaze shied away lightning quick, only to catch the amused cobalt gems of Spike’s open eyes.

Embarrassment snatched his voice even as he fretted for words of explanation.

“Like what you see then?” The question was more of a statement as it was laced with confidence. Spike smirked, just a hint of tongue showing, as he regarded the adorable child encased in a man’s body next to him.

“I-I,” the boy stammered, voice small in the face of Spike’s overwhelming presence.

Taking pity on his companion, Spike soothed, “It’s alright, luv. No shame in desiring another man.”

Alexander reddened even more than Spike thought was possible. He was going to enjoy teaching this lovely, young King the arts of pleasure, he thought, suppressing a groan as his cock struggled against the confines of his britches.

A horn blared in the distance, breaking the tension between them. Spike got up regretfully, muscles tensing as nervousness twisted them. It was time for the feast and that meant…

“Will you dine with me?” He stretched, falsely nonchalant, as he turned to regard the still sitting boy. “Be my companion at the table,” he elucidated for the confused Alexander.

Hopeful worship filled the boy’s brown gaze before regret obliterated it. “I’m afraid I must sit next to my cousin.”

Spike stiffened, not used to being refused. Seeing this, Alexander rushed to explain. “Duty must come first though I am certain his company will be much less stimulating than yours.”

Somewhat appeased, Spike softened. “Stimulating, huh?” The boy blushed again. “Pray, tell me, which one of our delightful Kings is your cousin?” He barely kept the sarcasm at bay.

The brunette hesitated, anxiety thrumming through his larger frame and Spike suddenly knew, icy vines of realization wrapping around his beating heart. No wonder he had found the boy so alluring, so familiar.

Taking a deep breath, Alexander admitted in a whisper, “It’s Angelus.”

With quick, jerky movements, Spike pulled on his wool vest and straightened his clothes, as if his simple actions would keep the memories away. Fearfully, Alexander followed suit, worried that he had lost whatever chance he had had of gaining the older man’s friendship.

“Will I see you after the feast?” he queried in a quavering voice.

“Perhaps.” Spike forced a smile at the boy as he prepared to walk away. He knew that he was breaking young Alexander’s heart but he just couldn’t handle seeing the boy now. He had to get away.

Once out of sight, his movements quickened into an almost run as adrenaline raced through his body, sending his heartbeat into overdrive. What wouldn’t he give for one thing in his life to be untainted by that hulking Irish lout?

His steps sped towards the banquet room, dread and anticipation warring inside his head. Maybe if he could get there fast enough, he might be able to find a seat just farclose enough…

Then, a shadow fell across his path, and past and present collided.

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

Some years ago…

Golden tresses tickled William’s nose and a peal of delightful laughter swelled his heart before his darling princess danced away from him.

“Sometimes I believe that you like my hair more than me,” Elizabeth mock complained with her hands on her silk clad hips.

“Now Buffy, you know that ain’t true.” He stalked after her playfully as she continued to giggle and pretend to run away from him.

He caught her, making her squeal happily, and lifted her off the ground in a twirl of dazzling emerald green color in the bright sunlight.

“Careful,” she admonished as he almost allowed her to slip from his hands. “Or you’ll get grass stains on my dress.”

“Luv, they’re both green. No one will notice.”

“My father will.”

At the mention of Emperor Giles, William’s expression turned sour. He gently set her down before pacing around her enormous garden.

“Will…” she began uncertainly.

“Does the ponce still insist upon giving you to the best warrior?” he ground out angrily.

“Will…”

“You’re not a piece of chattel he can sell to highest bloody bidder!”

“He’s my father,” Elizabeth whispered sadly. “He can do whatever he wants with me.”

William stopped pacing long enough to notice her distress. He dropped to his knees in front of her, rubbing his face against her dress.

“Oh Buffy, Buffy. I am so sorry. But what are we to do if I cannot have your hand?”

She ran her fingers through his golden locks gently, smoothing the unruly curls back in place. Her heart wept for this sweet boy at her feet. She ignored thoughts of her own fate, choosing instead to focusing on trying to find a way to comfort her handsome King.

Only she knew the pain in his soul, his deep seated need for love and affection. He had been a lonely boy, raised by his sister Drusilla, who had fought for their survival until he was of age and could take the throne. But by that time, the years of constant vigilance and fear had taken its toll and ironically, the happiness at witnessing his coronation finally tipped her over the edge to insanity. It was as if she had only held it together until he no longer needed her.

Her condition had plunged him into a deep depression and he had succumbed to the machinations of his enemies in the court by taking comfort in one of the ladies in waiting named Cecily. She had betrayed him terribly, nearly causing him to lose his kingdom. Of course, he had survived and vanquished his foes, bringing the country back under his iron control, but it was not without a price. He had come to view every act of affection with suspicion and his lonely heart had surrounded itself in a cage so that he might never be that vulnerable again.

Then, she had come along. She had brought him the sweetness of love and companionship. She was the sunshine that brightened his bleak, solitary existence. Simply put, she was family.

“You must not give up hope, Will,” Elizabeth stated with determination. She cared nothing for what would happen to her, only that her fate might not damage her beloved anymore than he already was.

William snorted, pushing to his feet. “How can I not?” He began to pace again. “The great Angelus has come to claim you. I am no match for the seasoned warrior.”

“Then you must train.” Elizabeth lifted her chin and captured his gaze with her conviction. “He only has the motivation of lust but you have the motivation of love.”

William laughed bitterly, the sound twisting into a sob. “Is love enough?” he asked. “It didn’t save my sister. It didn’t stop Cecily from turning against me.”

“Will…”

William changed tracks suddenly. “I heard he’s a handsome man,” he commented, shooting her a challenging glance. “He’s strong and powerful, ruler of a kingdom much greater than mine, and they say he has a face like that of an angel’s…”

Without warning, Elizabeth slapped him.

Shocked, his tirade broke off and he lifted a trembling hand to touch the place where palm had met flesh.

“Do you think so little of me, William?” she hissed, tears threatening though she would not let them fall. “How dare you insult me like this? I am not one of those court wenches, selling their favors for a hint of status and beauty. I am Princess Elizabeth, the woman who cared enough to find the soul inside the hard shell of a terrifying warrior King.” She gave him such a fierce look that he was ashamed.

“And you’d do well to remember that.”

She spun around and stalked inside, a proud, regal figure retreating to her sanctuary.

That would be the image that played in his mind when he was defeated a few months later by a gleeful Angelus. He focused on it, blocking out the triumphant expression on a standing Angelus’s face and the heartbroken one on hers. It would be the only image he ever allowed himself to have of her when painful memories surged to the fore of his mind. He preferred to remember her that way and that way only:

Strong in the face of his cowardice and insecurities.

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

Present

“William!” Angelus bellowed heartily. “How wonderful it is to see you!” He clapped Spike on the back as if they were old friends instead of enemies.

When no answer was forthcoming, he turned to the silent, haggard figure next to him, remarking slyly, “Wouldn’t you say so, my dear?”

Elizabeth stepped into the light, her downcast emerald eyes a dull, tarnished green. “Yes, my lord. It is always lovely to meet an old friend.” Her voice was the whisper of a dead woman.

Malevolent brown eyes slid back to the imperceptibly seething blonde King in front of him before dismissing his consort without so much as a look. “Run along now, Buffy.” Spike flinched but Elizabeth bore it all without a reaction. “Be a good girl and secure a seat for Spike next to mine. He and I have so much to discuss.”

As she left, Spike struggled not to show his emotions, aware of the shrewd gaze trained on him.

“Now, William, where were we?”

Angelus invaded his personal space like a snake slithering up to its hypnotized prey. Lifting Spike’s clenched jaw with a huge paw, he smashed his lips down on the smaller man’s mouth in a parody of the standard peck on the cheek used by old friends to greet each other.

Spike debated pushing Angelus away but the thought was unthought as soon as it popped into his mind. The vengeful King would just take it out on Buffy if he didn’t obey.

However, that didn’t mean that he had to give in gracefully. His lips were defiantly unyielding for a few seconds before he allowed the tongue to rape his mouth.

One hand made its way to the back of his head, holding it in place while the older man plundered his mouth, and the other hand wrapped around his back to immobilize him completely.

Controlling prick, he thought to himself wrathfully. Angelus knew he wasn’t going anywhere until the man was done with him. The hands were just adding insult to injury.

As he submitted himself completely, the one-sided kiss – if it could even be called that – grew less brutal and more sensuous. He felt Angelus’s tongue caress his, teasing it to come out and play. At the same time, the hand at his back slid down to palm his ass, pressing him against the bulge in the brunette’s britches and slowly, hips ground into him seductively.

He shoved the other man away so violently that teeth dragged across his lower lip. Breathing heavily, he claimed lamely, struggling not to let his emotions show, “We’ll be late for dinner.”

His gaze stayed on the ground intently though from the corner of his eye, he could see Angelus licking his blood off the man’s own teeth and he could practically feel dark eyes stroking along his body, lingering on his crotch.

“Very well,” Angelus finally said with a smirk. “It’d be a shame to miss the feast. Buffy was ecstatic when she had heard you were coming and had ordered the cooks to make something special in your honor. But, the poor thing ended up overtaxing herself.” The handsome man paused, forcing Spike’s unwilling blue eyes up to meet his.

“You see, she is with child. The healers had confined her to bed rest but the silly girl refused to listen. Fortunately…” Spike could barely restrain himself from wiping off that smug expression, “she has a competent husband to take care of her. I would not have let her attend the feast. After all, the excitement might be too much for her but she had begged and pleaded so…charmingly…that I relented…as long as she agreed that after the feast, she’ll be staying in her quarters until birth.” Angelus smiled sadistically, showing sharp white teeth, stained with just a tiniest smidgeon of red.

His blood.

Spike shuddered and cursed himself for his reaction when Angelus’s eyes just plainly lit up with hunger for his pain.

“Let us not keep the others waiting.”

With one last leer, Angelus headed into the banquet room, a huge, imposing figure striding away, leeching the life out of all that he left behind.

Spike shivered, wrapping the vest around himself more tightly as if he could ward off his anxiety and unsettled emotions.

He didn’t understand why the older warrior was so fixated on him. What had he ever done to deserve such attention?

Maybe, he thought, if he wished hard enough then the Powers might take pity on him. But then again, he smiled coldly, they were high and mighty bastards that didn’t give a damn about Kings or men.

Stepping into the banquet room, he instead cursed Angelus’s existence and his own as well, for he knew. Deep down in his heart, he knew that…

…Angelus wasn’t the only one who was obsessed.

I'm still alive (and so are my fics)!

2008-03-03T07:06:59Z

Hi everyone! It's been so long since i have been on LJ but thoughts of my favorite vamps have always been on my mind. I took the time this weekend to write more of this story, which I hope people are still interested in.

Title: The Boundaries of Love (7/?)
Pairing: Spangel
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Joss is God. I’m only a minor servant, borrowing his playthings.
Summary: Angsty. This is one of my more serious fics. Spike gets a mysterious visitor after the whole Cup of Perpetual Torment business. A sacrifice is made, setting off a chain of events that will change Spike forever and test the boundaries of his love for Angel.
Note: This is unbetaed so all mistakes are mine. Please point them out if you see one. By the way, please feel free to offer constructive criticism.

Previous parts here.

Desire licked a dark, destructive trail up his skin before digging its talons deep into his shriveled heart, making him ache for the drug that would cease its sweet torture.

Power.

Hamilton hated and loved it in equal measure, schemed and plotted his way toward possessing it for as long as he could remember. After so many years, a seat at the table of the Senior Partners was almost within grasp, with only one obstacle remaining in his path.

“Look again,” Hamilton hissed at his underlings, who fearfully redoubled their efforts upon hearing the whip crack of his voice.

Oh, power was so addictive and Hamilton had only just possessed a small taste of it. No one was going to come between him and it, especially not amateur Slayer bitches who claimed to have turned to the dark side – claimed being the key word. He just didn’t buy her story.

After all, he couldn’t sense that same all consuming lust for power burning in Mina as it burned in him. She didn’t and wouldn’t ever understand the sacrifices it took to worship at that altar.

“What are you hiding, little girl?” His dark gaze swept through her apartment, noting each and every detail.

So far, she had maintained a good act, delivering what she had promised. Angel was becoming increasingly isolated and he kept unconsciously turning to her in his weakest hours. It wouldn’t take much for her to bring him over to the dark side.

But, at times, Hamilton thought he could see a certain softness in her eyes as she regarded the souled vampire and he didn’t believe that she would backstab her lover like that. If the Senior Partners couldn’t see that, perhaps they were getting old and senile. All of them, except his mentor, of course.

“The expected may prove unexpected,” his mentor had often quoted to him. “Triumph lies not with the chosen.”

The Senior Partners and the Powers both believed that Angel was the one to play the deciding role in the Apocalypse. Thus, Mina’s plan to tip the scales in the Partners’ favor was welcomed by all the Partners except for Hamilton’s longtime mentor, who had secretly revealed to him an older prophecy, often quoting lines from it.

Victory would come from an unknown source and his mentor had believed him to be it.

He was lucky to have such a mentor. All through the years, the man had never guided him false. In fact, his mentor was the one who pointed out to him that Mina wasn’t all that she seemed to be. If he could find out what Mina was hiding and expose her, his ascension to Partner status would be assured.

With that in mind, he had patiently bided his time for the chance to find a crack in her game while dutifully reporting her successes to the Partners, though it pained him. When both her and Angel had been drawn away to England, he had pounced on the perfect opportunity to ransack her apartment for clues.

His instincts told him that the key lay in those few days that she had disappeared from Wolfram and Hart, apparently on some mission of the Council’s, as she had told Angel. She had deftly evaded the surveillance team that he had sent to tail her and they had been unable to ascertain where she had gone.

“Marcus!” one of the Seers suddenly called out to him urgently.

Barely able to contain his excitement, he quickly strode over to where she was standing. In front of them lay a pile of clothing that had been carelessly left on the floor by the bed.

“I sense a faint connection to the earth,” she observed. “It’s very cleverly hidden among the usual outdoors dust and other earth elements that had accumulated on her clothes.”

“What does that mean?” Hamilton demanded. “I thought the magical scans didn’t pick up anything.”

“It’s not magic,” she explained with a wry smile. “It’s the unique signature that we leave upon every person or thing that we come into contact with. Some creatures may become very adept at hiding it but there’s always a signature left behind, no matter how faint.”

“And?” Hamilton tried to keep from sounding too excited.

“Very recently, Mina met with a strong magic user, who had a very old connection to the earth here…”

Hamilton smirked. He could already taste the sweetness of Mina’s downfall. Maybe the Partners would even allow him to handle the Slayer’s punishment, he thought darkly, licking his lips.

“You all heard her.” He turned to his underlings. “Get me a list of magic users in L.A. I want this figured out as soon as possible.”

Stalking out the door, he left them to straighten up the mess they had made of the apartment before Angel and Mina got back.

His mentor would be pleased. Luck was indeed smiling on them.

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

“Or you could just take the first drooling idiot that comes along…”

Sometimes, he wondered if it was all preordained. What one dismissed as luck was destiny in another’s eyes.

The more he watched her from his vantage point in the shadows of the alley, the more he was convinced that it was meant to be. That this was meant to be.

“The wisest and bravest knight,” she whispered in a hushed, almost reverent tone, gaze filled with awe and just the slightest hint of something that could be regret.

Just how much had she seen, he wondered sadly, of what the future would hold?

Watching the gentle poet eagerly drinking down her promise of power, he experienced a strong, sudden compulsion to stop the man and save them all from an eternity of regret and pain but, upon meeting Drusilla’s clear, almost sane gaze, he knew he couldn’t.

It was her choice and he knew now, without a doubt, that she had made it despite knowing how it would all end ultimately.

But, why start something that was doomed to fail?

“Love,” she replied simply, as if hearing his innermost thoughts.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it was Cordelia standing in her place.

Stunned, he stood frozen, unable to move a muscle.

“Love allows for no boundaries,” she murmured solemnly. “That’s what makes it dangerous and at the same time, powerful…”

He looked at her in confusion. She seemed to be trying to convey some sort of message to him.

“Cordy…”

“No. You need to listen, Angel.” She staved off his questions with her sharp tone. Her next words were cut off as William abruptly began suckling harder at her neck, as if wanting his presence acknowledged.

That propelled Angel’s frozen body into action. Snarling, he quickly yanked the fledgling off of her, catching her before she fell. Blood gushed out all over his hands as teeth left neck. He tried desperately to staunch the flow but it was futile.

Clasping his arm with surprising strength, Cordelia struggled to get her next words out even as her voice began to grow faint.

“He will try to take it all from you.”

“Who?” he asked, totally baffled.

She made no answer, remaining limp in his arms, eyes wide and unstaring – haunted, even in death, by the possibility that her efforts to warn him had not succeeded.

For an eternity, he stood numbly, unable to make sense of anything, only knowing that holding her dead body for the second time around was just as devastating as the first. He knew not how much time he spent standing there for each moment of bleakness dragged on the same way in his eyes.

Then came a spark of color in the lifeless alley. He watched dazedly as an eerie blue tinge gradually spread across Cordelia’s face, obliterating her features and replacing them with that of another.

Fred.

Horrified, he dropped her and backed away, his body shaking in denial. He bumped into someone and reflexively, he turned around.

With lips still dripping her lifeblood, William appeared in front of him, eyes bright with a certain blend of madness that some would call love.

“She’s…she’s my destiny.”

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

Angel always knew that those words would come back to haunt him.

Of all the things that the older vampire had been to Spike and of all the things he wished he could’ve been, his destiny had never been one of them.

Perhaps, it was for the best, Angel thought. He caused enough deliberate destruction as it was.

Drusilla, William, Cordelia and now, Fred.

Sweet Fred…whose life had been worth that of a thousand souls…

Even the motors in Wolfram and Hart’s private jet weren’t fast enough to take him away from the scene of his greatest failure. Sleep offered no escape either.

Lifting a brandy that the stewardess had brought him, he brooded over his strange, troubling dream, all the while careful not to dislodge the comforting hand delicately wrapped around his larger one.

Jolting awake from unconsciousness in a cold sweat, the boundaries between reality and dream had blurred for a moment. He had thought himself holding Cordelia’s hand and had been confused to see that the hand had actually belonged to a slumbering Mina in the seat next to him.

Slowly, her rhythmic breaths and heartbeat had calmed him, her presence chasing away the details of the dream.

The way she made him feel, either with her touch, her look or her proximity – it was inexplicable.

His lips tingled in remembrance of the one night that they had slept together. She had kissed him hungrily as if she was drowning, as if at any moment she would ripped away from his embrace. It was arousing and good and…

…just like the way William used to kiss him.

As Angelus, he had always found it intoxicating, the way William had offered everything up in a single kiss. As Angel, however, he had simply found it saddening.

Goodbye had underlay William’s every action. It seemed as if he had been preparing for the worst, preparing for what he believed was inevitable – the moment that his lover would leave him – and so he had tried to get as much out of everything as he could before it all ended.

Angel shook his head, trying to make sense of the conundrum. How could two different people be so similar?

Wesley had suggested that maybe it was all in his mind. The Englishman had listened patiently when he had finally broken down after the night with Mina and sought the other man for advice. In the course of that talk, he had at last admitted to his feelings for Spike – a century’s worth of suppressed emotions that Mina had dug up.

The most logical conclusion Wesley could come up with was that he had been desperate to find a replacement for Spike and had merely latched onto the most convenient person. Nobody deserved to be a substitute, Wesley had then said, urging him to end the affair. He had agreed with a heavy heart, knowing that it was the right thing to do.

Which probably meant that he should pull his hand away now.

Yet, he couldn’t. The familiarity of the situation held him in its thrall. How many mornings had he woken up to the comforting sensation of William’s fingers intricately interlaced in his, like fibers in a thread?

He had always thought that he would have forever with William. Each death – Doyle, Buffy, Darla, Cordy and now, Fred – had simply reinforced the notion that Spike was the only one who would be with him always. Each death had brought him one step closer to telling the younger vampire how he felt.

Smiling bitterly, Angel reflected on how it had taken Spike’s death for him to finally admit his love for the blonde. He still remembered those drunken, but no less heartfelt, declarations he had made to Mina about Spike. For some strange reason, he had a feeling that Spike would have heard them and it had eased the heartache and regret within him.

The vampire turned his attention back to the girl who had given him so much peace and comfort in his darkest hours. Studying the troubled lines on her sleeping face, he wished, in a sudden burst of selflessness, that she had never come into his world – a world of pain, loss and hopelessness. She was so young and she deserved better than what he could offer her.

Carefully slipping his hand from hers, he told himself that it was for the best, ignoring the pang in his heart.

Like a curse, destruction trailed in his wake. It was as if all the pain and torment he had once visited on his victims were now taken out on the ones dearest to his heart.

If she didn’t stay away, he would destroy her as well and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Charlie boy…” she suddenly whispered.

Angel frowned. Only Spike called Gunn that.

“Don’t drink it,” she pleaded desperately, guilt pervading her tone.

He felt a chill run down his spine. What was she talking about? Don’t drink what?

Where there was once love, now there were the first tendrils of suspicion. This was one too many coincidences for him to comfortable with.

Notions, which had been simmering in his subconscious mind for a while, finally floated up into his consciousness.

Wasn’t it convenient that she woke up from her coma just in time to step into and fill the gaping wound that the blonde vampire left behind? Nobody ever questioned how easily she had insinuated herself into the group and Angel’s heart and how she just happened to know so much about all of them. At the time, she had mentioned offhandedly that she had had many visions about them and they had accepted that and the fact that maybe she was just exceptionally intuitive.

Cordy’s words of warning echoed in his mind.

“He will try to take it all from you.”

Maybe Mina was working with someone who knew them very well, an old enemy with a vendetta against him.

The minute they got back, he intended to call Giles and find out more about her. That is, if Giles and the Council could still be trusted.

“How long?”

Angel jerked in his seat, startled out of his brood. An awake Mina looked at him quizzically. Quickly, Angel composed himself, hoping that his face didn’t betray his thoughts.

“What did you say?” he asked, stifling the repulsion he felt by the concern for him registering in her blue eyes, which he was sure was fake.

She was an amazing actress and a formidable enemy. He would have to be careful around her.

“Are you ok?” she queried, staring at him earnestly.

“Just tired,” he lied.

She nodded slowly as if satisfied by his explanation. “How long til we land?”

“Two hours,” he replied tersely before turning away from her and closing his eyes.

They had only two more hours together before he could be free of her.

Only two more hours left to not think of how much her betrayal hurt, and how much their combined betrayal of Fred would hurt Wesley.

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

“The air is choked with grief. It is most repulsive to me.”

Spike lifted his red-rimmed eyes to regard Illyria from where he was sitting on the steps in the lobby. If only he could’ve visited Kalynine earlier, he would’ve come up with a plan with her earlier, and this stranger clothed in a familiar form might not be standing in front of him.

Illyria, God-King, who had planned her resurrection millennia ago, knowing that she would be murdered by a rival. Of all the people she could’ve chosen, why did she have to pick Fred?

Even while he seethed inwardly at her blatant disregard for the pain she had caused, he couldn’t help but compare her situation to his. Both of them had taken over the bodies of girls, who had once been loved by family and friends. Impostors, they both were.

The only difference was that while Illyria had made no efforts to hide herself, he had played so many different roles that sometimes he himself couldn’t keep them straight.

Between the two of them, who was worse, he couldn’t tell.

“Well I’m truly sorry, your highness,” Spike sneered, his self-loathing and grief making him lash out at her. “I know our grief is nothing compared to the devastation of losing a kingdom but some of us just happen to care more about people than kingdoms.”

“You would invest so much of yourself…in a mere mortal shell?” she questioned, a hint of something indefinable in her tone.

“She was more than a mortal shell, you stupid bint!” he shouted. Illyria cocked her head at him inquisitively and he quickly moved on from his slip, hoping that nobody noticed.

“She was like a sister to me.” His jaw tightened as he remembered everything Fred had done for him. “Not that I would expect you to understand that.” Swallowing a lump in his throat, Spike stood to go but her next words stopped him.

“I…once had kin as well…”

The words were clipped, as if it took great effort for Illyria to force them out of her throat.

“Yeah?” Spike murmured, eyes softening a little as he regarded the God-King. “Did you love your kin?”

She stiffened. “Love is a weakness that I will not tolerate. I cannot fathom why any creature would desire to weaken himself in such a way.” Hidden beneath the disdain was the unmistakable tang of bitterness.

Spike stared at her thoughtfully. “But even you,” he pressed insistently, “must have felt some sort of affection for family, if not love.”

Illyria smiled, a hard line stretching across her implacable features.

“Even you would find it difficult…” She paused, looking straight into his eyes with such intensity that he shifted uncomfortably.

“...to feel affection for a brother who has taken your life.”

With that, she stalked away, leaving him speechless.

What is your existence shaped by?

2008-01-16T05:43:44Z

School has put me in such an angsty mood. I needed an outlet. Spangel = it.

Title: Definition
Pairing: Spangel (implied)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The definition of belonging to Joss is NOT MINE.
Summary: AtS Season 5? Spike's existence has always required definition. A short drabble.

It proved to be the defining moment of his existence.

All he had ever dreamed of was resolution and a clean break. Without an end, there can be no beginning.

Let the status quo be disturbed and reset. It had never been in his favor, anyway.

Not that he would ever settle for what he’d been dealt.

He demanded, deserved, more. More knowledge, more respect…more than friendship.

Less than one word his Sire offered, providing the final impetus his dignity needed to release itself from where it had been lying prostrate since Day One.

Without the fire to shape his moth-like existence, his liberation was at last complete.

Only…

He had come to realize, as knees kissed the floor, that freedom by itself meant nothing.

After all, how can freedom be defined…

…if not by enslavement?

A wild New Year's Eve Partaaaay

2008-01-01T03:39:14Z

Happy New Year to everybody! This is a ficlet I posted as a contribution to the New Year's Eve Party at nekid_spike. Hope you all like it!

Title: Costumes and Confessions (Part 1)
Pairing: Spike/Angel, along with some minor ones
Rating: R for language, for now
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss. I'm just the insane babysitter.
Summary: For the traditional New Year's Eve Party at W&H, Lorne insists on a Heroes and Villains theme. Everyone decides to take the opportunity to reveal sides of themselves normally unseen. Confessions are made and lovers are found. Who will end up spending the new year together?

Fucking. Blood. Fucking. Torture. Fucking. Mayhem. Did he mention fucking?

Angel groaned. New Year’s Eve parties were supposed to be about all those things but what was this whole thing about heroes and villains?

He blamed Lorne. The green demon had apparently downed one seabreeze too many and decided to let loose his evil, demon side. Who knew that Lorne had it in him to be this cruel?

Angel hated dressing up as somebody else. After all, why dress up as somebody inferior when he could be himself, the Almighty Scourge of Europe, feared by demons and humans alike across five continents?

Ex, he reminded himself reluctantly. He was souled now.

A sudden thought hit him but he dismissed it as soon as it occurred to him. Dressing up as himself would have been cool since nobody could be bad like Angelus but he was liable to get staked.

Jeez, this was such a killjoy. Maybe he shouldn’t have cut the budget for the last few ideas Lorne had. This was revenge, plain and simple.

Everybody had to show up to the party in a costume in order to be admitted and as CEO, he was required to be there.

Angel groaned. He had ten hours until the party tonight. What the hell was he going to be?

Wait a minute...Angel hurriedly re-read the invitation.

It just said that he needed to be in costume to be admitted, it didn’t say he had to stay in costume the whole time…

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

“C’mon, do your laugh,” Fred insisted.

“No, petal. Not until he’s here.”

Fred pouted.

“Don’t pout, pet. It doesn’t go with your outfit.”

“How about this then?” Fred smiled coyly.

“That’s more Catwoman than Batgirl,” Gunn commented with a chuckle as he walked up to the two, dressed in his Ra’s Al Ghul costume. “Where’s Angel?”

“Probably trying to find a way not to get hat hair or some such,” Spike remarked sarcastically.

Fred giggled.

Just then, an uncomfortable looking Wesley arrived. Spike noted with appreciation how well the tights hugged his legs.

Wesley’s own self-consciousness was forgotten upon seeing the girl of his dreams clothed in tight leather.

“You look good, Fred,” he murmured breathlessly.

Gunn’s glower went unnoticed.

“So do you…Robin,” Spike leered at the former Watcher and licked his lips lasciviously, smearing his lipstick a little.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Fred chided.

She rummaged through her tight leather suit and somehow managed to produce a tissue. Carefully, she began wiping off the smear.

“Anyone seen Angelcakes?” Lorne asked, wandering up to the group. “I heard from the ushers that he’s arrived already.”

“Dude, what are you wearing?” Gunn couldn’t resist asking.

“A tuxedo,” Lorne replied matter-of-factly.

Wesley looked outraged. “Didn’t you say this was a costume party? If I had known…” He gestured angrily at his own skin tight outfit.

“Relax, Stud Muffin, you look fine,” Lorne said soothingly. “Besides, I am in costume.”

Spike snorted. “As what? Alfred the butler?”

Lorne was delighted. “How did you guess?”

“Man, if Angel doesn’t show up as Batman…” Gunn murmured with a sad shake of his head.

Four pairs of eyes turned to regard Wesley expectantly, who cowered a little.

“Hey! I suggested it to him. I cannot control whether or not he’s going to follow my suggestion,” Wesley protested.

“Tall, dark and broody. Hell, Peaches doesn’t even have to dress up to look like the stupid ponce.”

“Hey!”

All five heads turned to regard the newcomer. It was Harmony, dressed in some ridiculously skimpy outfit, carrying…a plastic stake?

“I resent that,” Harmony stated petulantly. “Christian Bale is way hotter than Bossy.”

A frowning Fred looked about to argue but Spike was quicker than her.

“What are you bloody wearing?” Spike demanded in confusion. This was a Heroes and Villains party and she looked like a vapid bint in distress trying to play at being tough.

Harmony visibly preened and lowered her eyelashes coyly. “You sure you can’t guess, Blondie Bear?”

Staring at the plastic stake in her hand, an inkling of realization surfaced in Spike’s mind.

“Bloody hell, no. You didn’t!” Spike roared.

The people around them scurried away nervously.

Harmony looked a little disconcerted. “You don’t like it?”

Wesley rubbed his forehead tiredly. “You’re not actually Buffy, are you?”

A beaming Harmony turned to him. “It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

Spike’s jaw ticked. “I need a drink,” he ground out and spun around, stalking off without another word.

Harmony burst into tears after she left and Fred’s heart ached for the vampiress. She pulled the normally bubbly blonde into an awkward embrace, trying to offer whatever comfort she could.

“I thought he would like it!” Harmony sobbed.

Fred didn’t know what to say but when she looked to the others for help, they had vanished. Men, she thought disapprovingly.

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

Spike downed his drink angrily. Stupid bint. She was a vampire for god’s sake! Dressing as a Slayer?

What the hell was she thinking?

He barked at the bartender to give him another drink, trying to chase away images of Buffy with alcohol. Now was not the time to be reminded of his failures at love. Not tonight.

Just then, his senses tingled. The poof was nearby.

Despite his earlier nonchalance, he was nervous as hell and his grip on the glass tightened. It was New Year’s Eve and he thought he would take the chance to start over with his Sire.

It was time for them to stop dancing around the issue and admit that they needed each other. Or at least, he was going to do that tonight. He could only hope that Angel felt that the same way.

He took another gulp of liquid courage. There was no going back. He was determined to confront his Sire tonight.

After all, he was already dressed the part – Joker to the tosser’s Batman. They were perfect complements and couldn’t exist without each other. Before, he had thought briefly about being Robin or any other of Batman’s numerous sidekicks but he was nobody’s underling.

He was a Master Vampire, for Christ’s sake! In every way, he was Angel’s equal and it was time the bloody plonker realized it.

Angrily, Spike got up. Angel couldn’t dodge it anymore. They were going to talk about their…relationship…tonight. Surely, even Angel couldn’t miss the obvious signs that Spike was sending out?

Then again, this was Angel they were talking about. The broody git knew nothing about pop culture. Expecting him to get the Joker-Batman thing?

Spike sat back down on the barstool. This was hopeless.

From across the room, Angel surreptitiously watched Spike from the shadows. Spike might not have seen a mirror for over a century but surely the younger vampire realized that the purple suit and green hair didn’t look good on him. What the hell was he thinking?

Angel brooded as he thought of his own costume, stashed in the wardrobe room somewhere. Could he risk it?

From the way Spike kept jerkily getting up from his stool and sitting back down, he appeared more mentally imbalanced than usual tonight. Perhaps it wasn’t the best night to approach him.

But if not tonight, then when? Angel might not get another chance (or the courage) to show his costume to Spike. Surely, once Spike saw the costume, he’d get it, no matter how out of his mind he might be?

God, Angel needed whiskey.

After having a few drinks with Harmony, a slightly tipsy Fred finally caught sight of Angel, marching purposefully toward the bar like it would be his salvation. She frowned as she realized that he wasn’t wearing a costume.

He was such a spoilsport. She had so hoped to see him in his Bat suit. All that tight leather would look so good on him.

No worries though, she did have Wesley to look at. Besides, without Batman around, she could have Robin all to herself. Didn’t Batgirl get together with Robin or some version of Robin? She wasn’t too clear on the details but she knew what she wanted.

Wesley.

She was going to settle things with him once and for all. No more hinting, no more subtleness. This time, she was going to make sure he got the point.

Her eyes scanned the room for her target. There he was…being mauled by some overenthusiastic skanks!

Fuming, she flew across the room to stake her territory. Those girls were in for a rude awakening.

She wasn’t just wearing this Batgirl suit for show, you know.

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

They had both noticed each other sitting at the bar but were pretending not to. There was always a buffer of three or four people between them and that suited them fine. They weren’t ready yet.

“Another,” Angel shouted as he slammed his almost empty glass on the table.

His coordination was little off and some of his drink sloshed over onto the hands of another patron, who looked about to complain but immediately backed off at the sight of Angel’s vamp face. Angel was too far gone to care about being nice to people.

Good, he thought to himself, he was almost at the point of not caring about losing his dignity.

He sneaked a peek at the other vampire, happy to see that Spike was getting pretty inebriated too.

Just a few more drinks…

A commotion broke out behind them, somewhere around the ballroom. The other nosy patrons left their stools to go see what that was all about, leaving Spike, Angel and two other patrons at the bar.

Feeling exposed, Spike surreptitiously glanced at Angel from under his eyelashes. He was irrationally displeased that Angel didn’t even notice him.

What was the point of wearing this garish costume if it didn’t even get him noticed?

Maybe he should just go back and eat the bloke who sold him the costume. The man had assured him that it was the best Joker costume ever made.

Just then, he noticed Harmony sitting a bit further away from them, talking to Gunn of all people.

“He hates me!” she wailed while knocking back another margarita.

“You think that’s bad?” Gunn slurred bitterly, tossing back his own drink. “My girl doesn’t even notice me anymore, too busy making eyes at English.”

“At least you had her for a while,” Harmony hiccupped piteously. “I was just convenient!”

Gunn snorted. “Like I wasn’t. At first it was Angel and I could stand that. I mean, he’s Angel. Everyone checks out his ass!”

“I don’t!” Harmony protested.

“Good on you then, girl,” Gunn giggled, clinking glasses together with her.

“Blondie bear’s ass is waaay hotter,” Harmony insisted loudly.

Spike couldn’t help a goofy smile from spreading across his face but he quickly tucked it away in case somebody was watching.

“That’s not the point,” Gunn murmured with a belch. “See here…the point is…why is nobody checking out us, huh? We ain’t superheroes but we’re damn hot ourselves.”

“Too right!” Harmony yelled, punching her fist in the air in agreement and nearly toppling over from her stool.

Gunn caught her and put her back in her seat.

“Maybe we oughta give them a little demonstration on what they’re missing out on, you know?” he whispered conspiratorially.

Harmony grinned sloppily. “What did you have in mind?”

Angel’s eyes swiveled over to the pair when he heard the sound of Harmony’s heels clambering on to the bar table.

Despite the bartender’s protests, Gunn and Harmony were now standing on the table, stripping their clothes off and dancing.

Gunn started belting out a song in a loud voice, as he took his suit jacket off and flung it into the crowd.

That attracted the crowd’s attention and people started shuffling over to watch the striptease instead of the source of the commotion before, which turned out to be Fred, in a catfight with the other girls who tried to molest Wesley.

As if on cue, Fred started letting out some wild shrieks of her own and attacking the other girls with renewed vigor while a drunken Wesley tried to either grope or pull everybody off each other.

Which event caused more noise, it was hard to tell.

In the chaos, Angel came to a decision. Forty five minutes until midnight and he’d be damned if he had to spend the new year alone.

Pushing away from the bar, he got up and strode purposefully toward Spike, or as purposefully as he could manage while being drunk. Luckily, Spike was halfway gone himself and hence, was in no position to judge on the gracefulness of Angel’s movements.

Even intoxicated as he was, Spike still felt a frisson of fear as his demon innately sensed the determination emanating from its Sire.

Angel, in his befuddled state, let some of his inner Angelus slip out as he bent down to whisper in Spike’s ear.

“Fifteen minutes. My office.”

Spike stared at the brunette’s retreating figure, his alcohol drenched mind trying to figure out what the older vampire’s angle was. Then again, what does it matter anyway? This was the perfect opportunity to confess and confront.

Getting up unsteadily, Spike began to wade his way through the boisterous crowd, oblivious to everything except Angel.

Meanwhile, Angel had hurriedly made his way to his office and changed back into his costume. In his haste and drunken state, he just left his clothes where he flung them.

The journey had sobered him enough to prevent him from falling unconscious but he still had enough alcohol in him to ensure him courage to follow through with his confession of love.

“Where the hell are ya, poof?” he heard the other vampire holler.

Showtime, he thought. Standing up from his resting place on the sofa, he got up and stepped toward the younger vampire, the enormity of what he was about to do further clearing his mind.

Spike turned toward him and nearly fell over.

“What the buggering fuck is this?”

Angel faltered. This was not the reception he expected. But the whiskey made him relentless and he proceeded until he was directly in front of the younger vampire.

“Tonight, Will, is the night all your dreams come true!” he announced grandly.

A snigger followed by full fledged laughter burst from the blonde. He collapsed on the floor, tears streaming out from his eyes.

Angel frowned. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe Spike was too drunk for this?

Spike calmed himself down enough to ask, “My bloody dreams are you, dressed in a bad train robber’s kit? What parallel universe have you landed in, git?”

“You stupid idiot!” Angel hissed, starting to get angry at how his plans didn’t come to fruition. “This is a Robin Hood costume!”

“So?”

Angel ignored him and started ranting. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice. After I spent so much money on this stupid fucking thing!”

“Did you get it from Manny’s then?”

Angel paused, a look of confusion on his face. “Yes…how did you…”

“Cause it’s the same place I got mine.”

“That ugly thing? You paid good money for that stupid piece of shit?”

Suddenly angry, Spike, from his place on the ground, grabbed Angel’s ankle and yanked. The older vampire crashed to the ground, nearly falling on Spike but he managed to dart away in time.

“You know what the problem with you is?” Spike yelled.

“What?” Angel demanded furiously as he quickly got up and into Spike’s face.

“You never appreciate other people’s bloody efforts,” Spike shouted. “Do you even know who I’m pretending to be?”

“A lunatic?” Angel shot back. “Oops, my mistake. You already are one!”

“Joker, you fucking ponce! The Joker to your fucking Batman!”

Angel sneered. “And that’s supposed to mean what exactly? That you’re being your usual crazy pain in my ass?”

“Better than wannabe train robber!”

Angel punched him wildly. “It’s Robin Hood, boy!”

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

“Get off my boyfriend, you slut!” Fred screeched, pulling hard at some girl’s long hair.

Wesley paused. “Boyfriend?”

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

Harmony flung her dress out at the enthusiastic crowd. “Who wants a piece of me tonight?” she screamed as millions of hands grabbed at her.

A hand yanked her into a hard chest clumsily.

“Harm baby, you going home with me tonight,” Gunn breathed into her ear before they were both smacked in the head by the irate bartender.

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

“Do I look like I care what you wanna dress up as?” Spike shouted.

“It’s ROBIN HOOD!” Angel roared as he grabbed Spike and started shaking the younger vampire as if that would help.

“I know who Robin Hood is!” Spike tried to get out of Angel’s grip but end up entangling his legs with his Sire’s.

They both fell over, Angel landing on top of Spike. The younger vampire shoved him off.

“Don’t you remember?” Angel asked, almost desperate as he clawed at Spike’s legs, succeeding in shredding Spike’s costume.

Spike tried to fight him off. “Remember what, tosser? You’re the one who needed to remember to wear your soddin’ Batman costume!”

Angel fumed. Damn alcohol was preventing him from getting the words out.

“What is with you and Batman?” he demanded in exasperation.

“If you ain’t Batman, how can I be Joker?”

Angel didn’t know whether to laugh or sob. All this had gone to hell. “So you got a new hero!” he hollered, feeling upset.

Spike didn’t like being confused. “What are you nattering on about?”

“You no longer like Robin Hood!” Angel whined.

“Huh?”

“It was all for nothing! You don’t even care!”

Angel shuffled away and promptly burst into maudlin, somewhat alcohol-induced tears.

Spike felt like he had been hammered in the head. What was going on?

Whenever he felt unsure, he tended to go on the attack and that was what he decided to do now.

“Like you’re one to talk. I dressed up as Joker and you didn’t even have the bloody courtesy to come as Batman!”

Angel ignored him and continued sobbing.

“I mean, how’s all this symbolism supposed to work if you won’t cooperate? How can I tell you how much Joker and Batman need each other if you ain’t gonna be Batman?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Angel wailed.

Spike got up and began pacing.

“I’m bloody talking about you ruining my plans! You always soddin’ do that! Our costumes were supposed to complement each other and then you were supposed to notice and we were supposed to profess vows of undying love or some such rot and shag happily ever after. But noooo, you had to come as a train robber Robin Hood wannabe and now, instead of shagging, you’re crying like the nancy boy you are and I’m not getting any nookie tonight!”

Angel blinked. “You want to profess vows of undying love?”

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

“Yes, Wes is my boyfriend!” Fred snarled. “So back off, bitches!”

Wesley suddenly leapt into action and knocked the other girls away from Fred.

“You mean that, Fred? You…like me?”

Fred hiccupped. “Kiss me, stupid.”

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

Harmony’s lips trembled. “Y-you want me?”

The knocked out bartender lay on the counter forgotten.

“Hell yeah, babe,” Gunn proclaimed.

A determined glint entered Harmony’s eyes. “Then I say hell with those losers. You and me are going to partaaaaay!”

She vamped and growled at the onlookers who backed off before grabbing Gunn and drunkenly dragging him off to an empty room.

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

Spike growled. “I wanted to, Peaches, but you kept getting into the soddin’ way!”

Angel felt defensive. “Like you didn’t!”

“I’ve been trying to get it through your Neanderthal forehead all night, plonker!”

“Oh yeah? Well you obviously haven’t been trying hard enough!”

Spike looked livid. He grabbed a paperweight and threw it at Angel’s head. Thanks to the alcohol, Spike’s aim was off and Angel was unharmed.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve been trying plenty hard! It just you ain’t listening!”

Angel snarled. “Why should I listen to you when you don’t listen to me?”

“Like you’ve got anything important to say!”

“You bet I do, boy!”

Spike got right into Angel’s face menacingly. “Then why don’t you say it!”

“I! LOVE! YOU!” Angel ground out, eyes bleeding to amber.

A little fazed, Spike was nevertheless determined to win the argument, though he didn’t even remember what exactly they were arguing about.

“Well,” he countered, “I love you more!”

“No, I’m the one who loves you more!”

“No you don’t!”

“Yes I do!”

“No you don’t!”

“Why don’t we take it to the bedroom and I’ll show you that I’m right!”

“Or I show you I’m right!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Both stormed toward the elevator and got in.

As the elevator doors slid close, the clock struck twelve, heralded the beginning of a new year.

TBC in PART TWO

Broodiness and Moodiness

2007-12-27T18:18:54Z

A belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the wonderful zoesmith! Here's a present for you!

Title: His Moodiness
Pairing: Angel/?
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Working at Wolfram and Hart puts Angel in a bad mood. How bad? Well...that depends on the day...

Pissy

Harmony’s unicorn glares him in the face with an evil smile. Checking first to make sure that no one else is around, Angel growls back at it.

He hates Monday mornings. Everything is so much more evil. It’s like evil took the weekend off and has to make up for its absence on Monday morning.

Which puts Angel in a pissy mood automatically. As if Monday mornings weren’t bad enough.

The sound of someone, especially a certain blonde someone, snickering makes Angel spin around and snarl.

Taking the golden opportunity presented, the wooden unicorn dives off the top of Harmony’s computer and plunges straight towards Angel’s unsuspecting chest, horn first.

Someone’s gotta pick up the pace of evil around here since Harmony obviously can’t.

At the last possible second, Angel turns around and bats it aside. It hits the wall behind the desk just as a bubbly cheerful Harmony steps out of the elevators.

“BOSSY!” she screeches in horror, watching her prized possession splinter and crumble to the ground.

Angel winces, knowing that she’ll be screeching in revenge at him for the rest of the day.

Later, when he walks out of the office, he finds a huge marker board placed in front of Harmony’s desk. On it, someone has written “Today the boss feels…” and drawn a whole lot of caricatures of his face in various moods. The “Pissy” one was circled.

He growls and turns to demand an explanation from Harmony, noticing the new evil, smug unicorn adorning her desk.

“What the hell is that?”

Harmony scowls and ignores him.

“That, Peaches,” Spike chimes in gleefully from behind him, “is a way to keep track of your moods.”

“My employees are not retarded like you, Spike,” Angel shoots back. “They can read my moods off my face.”

Spike chuckles. “I know you’re a stingy git but don’t you think you can spare more than three expressions for all your bloody moods?”

Pissy is about to tip over to murderous rage.

Angel refuses to leave the moral high ground. Instead, he chooses to stalk back into his office and slam the door.

He needs serious nookie therapy to recover from this.

Constipated

Angel hates Tuesdays slightly less than Mondays. At least, the unicorn doesn’t try to kill him on Tuesdays.

He almost wishes it does.

“Pleeeease,” he whines on the phone, “I’ve been having a really shitty week.”

“You know the rules. ‘Sides, it’s only been two days into the week…”

Angel pouts. “One day here is like a whole freakin’ century!”

Before the other person could reply, the doors nearly get torn off their hinges. In storms an angry Slayer with a flailing, helpless Harmony behind her.

“Buffy,” Angel breathes, trying to sound like a tortured, star-crossed Romeo to her Juliet.

It wouldn’t do for her to find out that he’s moved on. Given his luck and the fact that it’s Tuesday, he’s liable to get staked by her if she does.

“You bastard!” she hisses. “You never told me that Spike was back!”

Angel frowns. She had only come for Spike?

Unnoticed, Harmony races out to capture the boss’s mood on the marker board. Constipated sounds about right.

“Buffy…” Angel murmurs again for lack of a better response.

Luckily, the bane of his existence saves his ungrateful ass.

“Buffy!”

“Spike!” Quicker than a squirrel can a climb a tree, Buffy throws herself at the blonde vampire and tries to climb inside his mouth.

If possible, Angel looks even more constipated than before, Harmony notes as she aims inquisitive glances at the office from her post.

Halfway through the hello with tongue, Spike opens his eyes and darts a triumphant gaze at Angel. The older vampire barely restrains himself from ripping the two lovebirds apart.

Buffy finally pulls away for much needed air and proceeds to drag Spike away with her without a backwards glance.

Angel’s anger drains away with their disappearance, leaving his constipated look firmly in place. He picks up his phone again but his lover has hung up.

Great. He isn’t going to get any nookie tonight.

Fearful

Arriving at the office, Angel quickly barricades himself inside. Wednesdays are frightening.

Last time, it was his dead sister Kathy. Who knows who it may be today?

Twinkling laughter alerts him to the fact that he’s not alone.

Angel groans. Of all the…

“Hello, Daddy,” Drusilla whispers behind him.

“Dru,” he manages weakly.

“Princess has been good all year. Mayhap she be allowed to play now?” Drusilla looks at him hopefully with large, innocent eyes.

This is a test, Angel thinks desperately. He’s not going to fail.

Drusilla suddenly smiles slyly. “Or does Daddy want to play instead?”

She trails a finger down his chest and brushes gently against his hardening erection.

With a shriek, Angel leaps away from her. I must not sin, I must not sin, he repeats to himself.

Drusilla follows him around hungrily, like a predator, like the predator he made her.

Angel’s soul battles his unruly cock as his cock takes notice of how well she remembers her lessons. He’s afraid that it may be a losing battle as he hasn’t gotten any in a while and he’s weak where his libido is concerned.

It was such a hardship to abstain for one whole century. Then again, he didn’t become all tortured and broody for no reason.

Angel panics as Drusilla sways closer. His pristine image and reputation are about to be blown to shreds.

But, his barricaded doors get blown to shreds first and Spike, his unwilling rescuer, charges in once again.

Jesus Christ, is Spike like the new rescuer of vamps in distress or something?

Angel feels another bolt of fear shoot up his spine. Drusilla will disappear with Spike, along with his chance of nookie, off to God knows where. If only his erection could disappear so readily.

With a warning glare that read “I’m watching you,” Spike grabs Drusilla’s hand and yanks her out the office.

Sighing, Harmony shakes her head sadly as she watches her panic-stricken boss stumble out his office. “Fearful,” she marks on the poster board.

He so needs to get laid, she thinks to herself.

Murderous

The whole office trembles. It’s Thursday and everyone knows what usually happens on Thursdays.

Beheadings. Lynchings. All and every form of execution.

Angel isn’t too choosy though he does like to be original.

Harmony arrives extra early this morning. She dutifully circles “Murderous” on the poster board, already knowing what mood Angel will be in today, but carefully tucks the board behind her desk and out of the sight.

Then, with hesitation and reluctance, she removes her unicorn from its usual perch and gently places it in a drawer. It looks a bit miffed at not being able to take part in any evil or mayhem for the day.

Exactly at nine, the boss shows up, the air of menace trailing behind him. He’s impatient and snappy and Harmony doesn’t dare to be her usual self.

Spike doesn’t exactly share the same sentiments as her and the rest of the office. He barges in as usual, throwing himself down on a chair with a smirk.

That is, until Angel looks at him.

A distinctly Angelus-like gleam is in those suddenly malevolent dark eyes. Spike shifts a little uncomfortably.

“Only one more day…” Angel whispers liltingly.

Spike gulps and decides fleeing may not be so demeaning for a Master vampire after all.

Before noon, Angel kills and savors the kills of three employees. He takes so long that Harmony keeps having to push back his other appointments.

So inconsiderate, she thinks to herself as she battles deadly demons and their equally deadly secretaries on the phone, trying to explain the situation. Nobody seems to get the fact that it’s Thursday at Wolfram and Hart!

When the noises – if they can really be called noises – finally stop, a trembling Harmony knocks on the door and offers to bring in some blood but Angel declines the offer.

The power – it’s almost better than nookie, Angel thinks.

Later that afternoon, he makes himself personally write letters of the demise of these evil employees to their not so evil families.

He feels shitty but when he crawls into bed that night, his lover comforts him about doing the right thing and all, and he changes his mind.

This…this is better than nookie.

Frustrated

Angel is a walking hard on. Today, today is the day!

He’s thrilled and yet, frustrated at the thought.

Shuffling into the office, he notices Harmony’s low cut shirt really displays her cleavage nicely. With a soft groan, he retreats inside quickly.

Like a bloodhound, Spike shows up at Harmony’s desk as he trails the scent of Angel lust.

“How’s the poof doing?”

Harmony taps the poster board. “Frustrated as usual. Don’t know why since it is Friday. You’d think he’d need a vacation from his grumpiness.”

Spike just chuckles and heads into the office uninvited.

Angel growls, eyes turning golden. “What do you want?”

“A PSIII, a Wii – hell, I’m not too bloody picky!” Spike announces with a shit eating grin.

“Fuck you!”

Spike rubs his crotch teasingly, smirking at the way Angel’s eyes track his movements as if hypnotized.

“No,” he whispers and saunters out of the office, his Angel baiting done for the day.

Angel throws a book after the blonde, already conjuring up all sorts of images of himself doing just that. It isn’t helping with his erection.

12:45pm

Angel swears that the clocks are designed to maximize his suffering. They are so evil, doing their little ticking and tocking like evil clucking chickens.

He takes out his frustration on them.

1:39pm

“What time is it, Harmony?” he yells.

“If you hadn’t broken the clock, you’d know, boss!”

He bangs his head on his desk in frustration.

2:53pm

“Is it five yet?” he grounds out.

“Nope,” his bubbly secretary informs him cheerfully.

She’s evil too, he thinks.

He looks at his frustrated erection. Maybe he can batter her to death with it.

Or better yet, just “stake” her.

3:17pm

“It is not time to get off work yet,” Harmony reports from the intercom, a little too gleefully.

“I didn’t ask!” he snarls. He rips the intercom off his desk and hurls it at the wall.

It smashes into a billion pieces but it doesn’t help calm his frustration.

Fuming, he stalks to his door, opens it and screams, “I’m the boss and I say when it’s time to get off work and I say that time is now!”

Without waiting for a reply, he runs to the elevator and hops in. If anything even remotely tries to keep him from getting his nookie, it will get violent.

Thankfully, he arrives without incident. He races into the bedroom, ripping off his clothes along the way.

Diving into his bed, he kisses his way up his naked lover’s body.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s the weekend,” Angel yells almost desperately.

“Oh, is that right?”

“It is!” Angel shouts. “Weekends officially start after work on Fridays!”

“Well…according to the rules – “

“Fuck the rules! Never thought you’d be one to stick to them, Spike.”

“Only when it’s your soul in question.”

Angel nearly weeps. “Please, Will. It’s only one day!”

“No, bloody no. You ‘member what Percy said?”

Angel gives up. This is so horrible. He tries curling up into a little ball but his erection is too uncomfortable in that position.

“Hush now, luv,” Spike murmurs soothingly while pulling Angel into a hug. “It’s just one more day.”

“Why does the spell have to be performed on the weekend after a whole month of unhappiness?”

“Don’t know, Peaches. But by this time tomorrow, the curse will be lifted and we can shag all we bloody want.”

As images of shagging floated into mind, Angel’s expression lifted suddenly like a little boy confronted with lots of presents on Christmas day.

“In any position?”

“What?”

“Can I take you in any position I want tomorrow, after the spell?”

Spike chortles. “Of course, pet.”

Angel groans again. “I need a cold shower,” he says as he rolls off the bed with one last longing glance.

The shower…the answer to the needs of all frustrated vamps.

As soon as the water turns on, Spike grabs the phone to finish his conversation before Angel interrupted.

“You know, you’re a sadistic git,” Wesley admits with reluctant admiration.

Spike chuckles. “Yeah, who knew the old man had it in him?”

“Really, a whole month? Don’t you think that’s unnecessarily…cruel?”

Spike gloats. “Told you his moodiness loved me more than Buffy.”

“Very well, I concede the point. Are you really going to wait until tomorrow to…test out the curse?”

The blonde hesitates. “Are you sure it bloody worked?”

“Yes, Spike. I’ve tested it out ten times in the past month. Now, if you’ll excuse me, unlike certain CEOs, I have work to do.”

Spike laughs genuinely. “Don’t work yourself too hard, Percy. Fred’s not gonna appreciate it.”

Hanging up, Spike contemplates all the things he and Angel will be doing tomorrow.

Suddenly, heaviness settles into Spike’s joints. He shrugs it off as Angel steps out of the shower.

He’s got better things to be concentrating on.

Tomorrow…is so close.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Wesley has the most unsettling sensation. He opens the book to the spell and scans it again.

There’s a line that he comes across that he’s never seen before…

The gypsy curse cannot be abolished; it can only be transferred to another.

Oops, looks like there isn’t going to be nookie after all.

Who will play Orpheus to my Eurydice?

2007-12-22T06:49:59Z

I know I promised silliness but this insisted on being written. Musey demands to be pleased.

Title: Eurydice
Pairing: Implied Spangel
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Joss encourages us to play in HIS world.
Summary: Post NFA. Angsty drabble. How much would he be willing to give to get what he thought he had always wanted?

If he writes well…

They say that gain only comes from sacrifice. Without sacrifice, there can be no gain.

That was a lesson he learned all too well.

After all, how can one take inspiration from life without the shadow of loss?

And he…after all these years of searching…

He has finally felt the pinpricks of inspiration.

If he writes well enough…

Spike would never have allowed it. He had enough to be tormented about.

Poetry need not be added to the list.

It’s a good thing then, that he’s not here to bear witness.

If he writes well enough, maybe…

In the twilight of his mind, his passion bleeds across the smooth parchment. For a moment, he hesitates…before signing it with the name of a man long dead.

William is owed this, at least.

If he writes well enough, maybe…just…

“Is it ready yet?”

His pen has emptied but his mind never will.

“In a minute.”

“Good. They grow weary of waiting.”

If he writes well enough, maybe…just maybe…

He ponders for a brief moment before hastily scribbling in the title on the top of the sheet.

“Eurydice?” A chuckle. “How apt…”

The parchment disappears to make its way to its audience.

Will this be the one? Will they finally be pleased?

If he writes well enough, he thinks to himself as he waits by the gates of hell, maybe…just maybe…

…they will let Angel live.

Love to all my darlings

2007-12-19T05:32:14Z

For my birthday, ash_carpenter wrote me an amazing Spangel fic called "Possessive," starring Feral Angel. Don't you just love her? Anyway, go on, you know you want to read it: Possessive.

Also, thanks to of_too_minds, xenodike, woman_of_, billysgirl5 and katsa_db_lover for the birthday wishes! I hope i didn't miss anyone.

As soon as I finish my exams, silliness will be rolling out in buckets. Oh yeah, all semester, i've been holding it in, being a good girl. So watch out flist, it will get crazy intense!

Happy birthday or belated birthday to anyone whose birthday I missed!

P.S. I will catch up on comments ASAP!

Love,

Darkie

A question you thought you'd never hear from guys

2007-11-26T00:56:40Z

A birthday present for woman_of_. She's such a sweetheart!

Title: Does my ass look big?
Pairing: Spangel
Rating: R?
Disclaimer: They ain't mine. Please don't sue. I need the money to pay the men in white coats.
Summary: What happens when two vain vampires start comparing their equipment?

“Your arse is too big, Peaches!”

“Oh shut up, boy! Just because you don’t have any doesn’t mean you should criticize mine!”

*growls* “You take that back, you wanker! Me arse is perfectly fine. And ‘m not the one who can’t keep his bloody paws off of it.”

“Oh please! The only reason I’m touching your ass is cause it’s the next best thing.”

*outraged* “Next best?!?”

*smugly* “Well, I obviously can’t fuck my own so I’ll just have to settle for yours.”

*snorts* “Like anyone would wanna shag yours!”

“Wanna bet?”

*snickers* “Nah, you get too cranky to shag when you lose.”

*snarls* “That’s it! We are going to see Wesley right now!”

“After you…lard ass.”

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

“Does my ass look big?”

*chokes* “Er…excuse me?”

“The fat git obviously doesn’t—“

“Have you two been fighting over the magic mirror again?”

*shifts guiltily* “I was just trying to see if I have uh cereal stuck in my teeth and Broody pants’ arse got in the way!”

“Hey! We made a schedule and it wasn’t your time yet!”

*archs an eyebrow* “Schedule?”

*nervous laughter* “You didn’t hear that.”

“Anyway, back to the bleedin’ topic. Whose arse would you shag, Percy?”

“I’m sorry but do I look gay to you?”

“That’s not the soddin’ point here!”

*softly* “Well…actually, I have to say you do, Wes.”

*shocked silence* “I cannot believe you just said that, Angel. Are you sure you’re feeling quite well?”

“To be fair, Wes, you did check out my ass five times a day when we worked in the Hyperion.”

“I did not!”

“You tell him, Watcher! There’s only one arse you check out and that’s mine!”

*growls* “You do?”

*gulps* “Angel, I can honestly say that I do not check out any male arses, neither Spike’s nor yours.”

“Stop getting all territorial over my perfect arse, Peaches. I know you want it more than your own but that’s no reason to bloody scare Percy to death.”

“Shut up! I don’t want your skinny ass.”

*menacingly* “Is that a fact?”

*sweats* “Um…I didn’t uh mean it that way…”

“Why don’t we resolve this like gentlemen?”

“What are you suggesting, Percy?”

“Well, show me your…specimens and I’ll judge for myself.”

*pants unzipping*

….

*breathes a little heavily* “I have to admit…they are both very fine specimens…”

*crows* “Hear that, wanker?”

“He said both, you idiot!”

*door opens*

“What the hell is going on here? You two trying to seduce my lover?”

“What?!?”

“I’m sorry, Charles. I didn’t realize it was so late already.”

“But Wes, you said you weren’t gay!”

“He’s not. He’s just bi and now why don’t you two go fuck like good little vampires? Me, English and Fred have a date.”

*door closes*

“Damn, I can’t believe he prefers Gunn’s ass!”

“I know. I’ve seen it and let me just bloody say, it ain’t much.”

“Yeah and his cock is not that big either.”

“Hell yeah, Peaches. I mean, mine is way bigger.”

“But not as big as mine.”

“Are you on something, mate? Mine is obviously bigger than yours.”

*growls* “You wanna bet?”

How narcissistic can you get?

2007-11-25T07:02:52Z

Title: The Devil Wears Armani (7/?)
Pairing: Spangel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I am not Joss. I am not Joss. I am not Joss. Hence, I don’t own the characters.
Summary: After the collapse of the Sunnydale Hellmouth, an amnesiac vamp named Will finds himself in L.A. Needing money, he gets a job at everyone’s favorite law firm and meets the boss from hell. Yes, the boss is who you think it is.

Previous parts here.

Waking up with a huge stake pointed at your face is not exactly the best wake up call.

“What are you doing Gunn?” Angel questioned in confusion as his bleary eyes took in the situation. It looked like he was in chained up in one of the containment cells.

“You won’t fool me, Angelus!” Gunn hissed as he made swiping motions with the stake in the air close to Angel’s face. “Tell me where English is or else I’ll permanently disfigure your face, vampire.”

A delicate sniff revealed to Angel that the stake was in fact dipped in holy water. Jesus, it looked like Gunn was going all out.

“I. Am. Not. Angelus. And. I. Don’t. Know. What. You’re. Talking. About,” Angel said slowly and carefully as if he were talking to a crazy man, which might be not be far from the truth considering the homicidal gleam in the black man’s eyes.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, man!” Gunn bellowed.

Angel visibly flinched as the stake came a few inches closer to his face. If that thing touched his face, Angel was so going to rip Gunn’s balls off. That is, once he gets out of those chains.

“Calm down, Gunn. Why would I do anything to Wes?” he tried reasoning with the irate man.

“Cause word on the street is that you got a hankering for his English ass, that’s why!” Gunn roared. “How is a brother supposed to get a dude when you keep swooping in and taking all the hot ones!”

“You want Wesley?!?” Angel exclaimed incredulously.

It had to be a spell. Gunn wasn’t gay. Well…he had caught the black man checking out his ass more than a few times but hey, who wouldn’t?

“Stop changing the fucking topic! Where’s English? He went to your office and then disappeared!”

“I didn’t have anything to do with it,” Angel protested. “He left my office safe and sound.” Well, Angel thought, Wes actually left with his virtue all aflutter but this might not be the best time to clue Gunn in on that fact.

Gunn snorted. “Man, I’d have fallen for that shit if Wes hadn’t called me beforehand and told me to come rescue him if he didn’t call within an hour.”

Angel’s eyes widened. Wesley had done that? What, did he think Angel was some big perv or something? Ok, so maybe there had been some leering going on but it was subtle leering!

“You know what? I don’t think you’re taking me that seriously, vampire,” Gunn stated coldly. “Maybe I should show you how serious I am.”

Angel watched in slow motion as the stake moved closer and closer. Oh god, his angelic countenance was going to be ruined now. He’d have to change his name to…Ugly-lus? What the hell was the Latin term for the opposite of Angelus?

“Lorne!” he squeaked.

The forward movement of the stake halted.

“Huh?” Gunn grunted in confusion.

“Call Lorne and I’ll sing for him!” Angel yelled desperately.

“Now I know you’re definitely not Angel!” Gunn announced triumphantly. “No way in hell would that dude volunteer to sing.”

Well, you try being threatened by a stake and see what you would do, Angel thought flippantly. Images of just exactly what he could make Gunn do in that situation popped up in his head. He shook them off, needing his full attention on his current predicament.

“Pleeease?” he begged, throwing in his best puppy dog eyes. Gunn was so going down after this. No one made Angelus beg. Ever. Well, except that one time with Spike and that thing with his tongue…er, best not be thinking about that right now.

Unable to resist those eyes, Gunn caved.

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

“Really? I look that pretty?” Will exclaimed in rapture as he stared at his face, blown up on the screen.

His face was flawless and those cheekbones were to die for. No wonder his pervy boss couldn’t keep those bloody huge paws off of him. Will almost wished that he wasn’t himself so he could shag himself.

“Well…you could always give us a blow,” Spike suggested with a leer. “Our cock is bloody perfect looking as well.”

For once, Will had to agree with his conscience. The question was: should he continue looking at his perfect self (what was up with that annoying hand waving in his face trying to distract him?) or tear himself away and go take care of his perfect erection while imagining fucking himself?

It was such a difficult decision.

Wesley sighed as he tried to get Will’s attention for the fourteenth time. He let his hand drop, knowing that it was a lost cause. Maybe he should just think of a way to salvage the situation himself.

After calling up Lorne and having him read Will, they had realized that Will had been, in fact, telling the truth. The souled vampire had absolutely no recollection of his past.

That could be turned to his advantage, Wesley thought, the wheels in his head spinning in overdrive. He knew that Spike hated Angel with a vengeance and vice versa. But then, why did Angel want Spike now?

It must be revenge. But now that Will knew enough about his past, Angel’s plan could not go forward. The two vampires would go back to hating each other. In fact, the blonde was probably going to wage an all out war with Angel.

Wesley wasn’t worried about Angel losing. The larger vampire could take Will down, with minimal damage incurred to himself. Of course, Wesley would then play the nurse and help Angel lick his wounds, among other places…

At that thought, Wesley couldn’t prevent a smile from slipping onto his face. He sneaked a glance at Will. The vampire was still captivated by the screen. As was everyone else.

He seriously did not see the appeal.

“Of course you are that pretty, Sugarbuns,” Lorne informed the preening Will, with an admiring glance.

The green demon was about to say more when his cell phone went off. After speaking for a few minutes and then turning whiter than a sheet, Lorne hung up. In a trembling voice, he told the others of the situation with Gunn and Angel.

With a horrified gasp, Wesley realized that he had never called Gunn to let the man know he was safe. Heart pounding fearfully, he sped off to go save his beloved, with Lorne hot on his heels. The ensuing commotion finally snapped Will out of his narcissistic haze and he too stormed off to confront Angel. The knowledge of his past and what the older vampire had done to him knowingly seemed to have penetrated his brain at last.

Fred watched the disappearing males with a smile. While they were busy dealing with Angel, she’d work on finding a way to help Will regain all of his memories. Once he did, he would be eternally grateful to her and who knows what he’d do for her in return?

She shivered in delight and rubbed her hands together in glee. Her brilliant mind had already formed the beginnings of a plan of action. All she needed was materials and tools.

Pulling open drawers, she began to gather things when a sparkle of light caught her eye. It was the amulet that had arrived by mail sometime ago. She had wanted to find out what it was used for but the arrival of the new cute second assistant Will had distracted her. Suddenly curious, she opened the clear plastic bag holding the amulet and took it out.

As soon as her fingers closed around it, there was a blinding flash of light and the sound of a huge explosion. Screaming in fright, Fred stumbled backward and tripped over, knocking herself out.

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

Angel breathed a sigh of relief when Wesley showed up with Lorne. Good old Wes would always come to the rescue. He definitely needed to show the former Watcher his “appreciation” afterward.

Upon seeing Wesley, Gunn looked immensely relieved. He rushed forward and embraced the Englishman. Wesley, unused to such blatant displays of affection, looked like he wanted to bolt but Gunn’s arms trapped him in place. Angel couldn’t prevent an amused smirk from spreading across his face. It was so much fun to watch Wesley squirm.

Then, an enraged Will appeared behind them and Angel’s smirk slid off his face. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. This was not going to be good.

Will opened his mouth and roared so loud the whole building shook. A strange light seemed to glow from within his eyes.

Angel winced. He needed to get out of these chains now.

A punch landed on his jaw, followed by a knee to his balls. Angel screamed in pain but his voice was drowned out by the ear blistering stream of foul curses spewing from Will’s mouth while Wesley, Gunn and Lorne tried to drag the furious vampire away from their boss.

“You filthy son of a whore, ‘m going to bloody rip your knackers off and make you eat them toasted!” Will spat, eyes bleeding to amber.

“Whoa,” Gunn exclaimed, eyes widening. “What is your problem, Blondie?”

Will didn’t answer, merely ripping away from their grasps and attacking Angel again.

“Will,” Wesley pleaded desperately, “listen to me please…”

A fist in his face sent the former Watcher flying back ten feet.

“My name is Spike, you fucking wankers!” Will snarled.

Gunn decided that enough was enough. He pulled out his tranquilizer gun and tried to shoot Will. Unfortunately, he had underestimated the strength and speed of an incensed Master Vampire.

The black man was hurled towards the wall just as he pulled the trigger and he ended up shooting Wesley instead.

With the others down, Lorne rapidly came to the conclusion that fleeing was the better option. He disappeared from the containment cell, leaving Will alone with a chained up Angel.

Will smiled menacingly at the other vampire. “Now where were we, Peaches?”

Angel gulped. “Y-you remember?”

Will flashed him another toothy smile. “Oh yeah…don’t know how, don’t know why but then again, who gives a flying fuck when you’re here, chained up and helpless?”

“Umm…would it help if I said sorry?” Angel asked weakly.

Will’s grin grew disconcertingly wider. He began unbuckling Angel’s belt.

Angel swallowed hard. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, you know, an eye for an eye and all that bollocks…” Will smirked.

A frantic Angel tried using his Sire voice. “Stop that right now, boy!”

All he got for his trouble was Gunn’s shirt stuffed in his mouth.

“Much better,” Will announced, looking pleased with himself.

He continued undressing Angel. Getting impatient, he decided to simply just rip the clothes off. He snickered at Angel’s look of outrage. It seemed as if this was the git’s favorite outfit. Oh well, too bad.

His blood boiled as he remembered all the indignities that the other vampire had put him through, including all those poncy clothes he’d had to wear. Angel was so going to pay.

Zeroing in on Angel’s groin, he noticed that the wanker was half hard.

“Sick bastard!” his inner voice spat. “Let’s see him try to get off after we’re through with him!”

Tearing off a piece of leather from Angel’s leather pants, Spike then prowled back towards an increasingly pale Angel. He grabbed the older vampire’s cock and stroked it to full hardness. The skin under his hand felt so familiar that for a moment, he was transported back to the past when he had done exactly the same thing as a prelude to sex between them. Back then, Angelus had ordered him around too. Some things just never change.

Will looked down at the erection he was fondling as tears threatened. He would’ve done this willingly for he loved the older vampire. But no, Angelus just had to turn it into an act of degradation, murmuring all those derogatory comments and threats while he did it.

“You enjoyed the degradation,” his Buffy voice – bloody hell, he had to stop referring to his voices of reason as Buffy; it was just plain wrong – said accusingly.

He told her to piss off and stop intruding on his time with his Sire. Angel was his, bloody his! He had had enough of people – Darla, Buffy, Wesley – trying to take his Sire away. The two of them were going to have their alone time, even if it killed Angel.

After viciously tying off Angel’s dick with the piece of leather, Will stepped back to admire his handiwork. Perfect. Even the stifled threats coming from Angel were perfect.

Time to get to work, Will thought with a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

“Ooh, is this a porn show?” a female voice queried excitedly.

Will growled. He was going to bloody kill her!

Spinning around, he was greeted by the sight of an aroused Fred, wearing some tacky necklace around her neck. Wait a minute…that necklace looked quite familiar…

As Will was busy trying to remember, Fred walked up to Angel with a fascinated look on her face. Angel tried to signal to her with his eyes that she needed to get out of there and get security. Unfortunately for him, Fred sucked at eye language.

Angel dropped his eyes in frustration. She was dumber and pervier than he remembered!

Then, his eyes caught on the necklace she was wearing.

Fred frowned as the brunette vampire started to make strange sounds while looking at her necklace. Did he want it as payment for the porn?

Oh well, fine. She didn’t really like it anyway but she had found it next to her when she woke up in this strange place so she had assumed that it was hers.

She lifted the necklace off her neck and placed it around Angel’s neck just as Will exclaimed in realization, “Hey isn’t that the bloody amulet I wore in Sunnydale?!?”

There was another blinding flash of light and loud explosion. Startled, Fred stumbled backwards again, right into Will’s arms. She took the opportunity to sneak in a few gropes.

“What the buggering fuck?!?” Will cried, annoyed at all the events that kept conspiring against him.

He glared at Angel as if it was all the older vampire’s fault but Angel looked confused. Something wasn’t right, Will realized.

Spinning Fred around, he demanded, “Bint, what the hell is going on?”

Fred cowered a little under his ferocious gaze. Good thing she had an answer for him.

“I think he’s lost his memories.”