Title: A Dangerous Mind: Part Two
Author: Buffywatcher
Feedback: Constructive comments always
welcome: Deepkori@hotmail.com
Pairing: Primarily Angel(us)/Spike,
References to Penn/Spike (Non-con), Spike/Drusilla
Rating: R Possibly a bit of romantic
NC-17’ish circumstances.
Spoilers: Big ones for Destiny, Angel Season
Five occasional references to other episodes in season five but for the most
part this diverges to AU after the Destiny Episode.
Warnings: This story will contain instances
of extreme violence, sexuality, character deaths and references to rape,
stalking, and some torture.
Disclaimer: Just borrowing them for a bit of
harmless fun. All characters, recognisable likenesses are retained by their
owner and accredited license holders.
Writer’s
Notes: This story
takes place in an AU setting. The events concerning Penn never occurred. Spike
left LA after the Destiny episode but everything else you can consider has
happened according to canon as of the start of this story. For the Episode
Damage: just consider the bits with Spike as not having occurred, Dana was
found and Andrew assumed custody of her without finding out that Spike was
alive. Please excuse any minor discrepancies or artist license. As always
thanks are going out to GF, MarieC, Luba, and Mera my most excellent group of
Beta/Editors.
Distribution: If I’ve already been given
permission to archive my work please consider it yours if you want it. If I
haven’t and you would like to archive it please do, all I ask is that you email
me and tell me where it’s going so I can visit.
Summary: An ancient foe is unleashed and
Angel is forced to confront a painful episode from his past as his enemy seeks
to take from everything he’s ever loved.
*Denotes
thoughts*
*
Chapter Two
Angel sits at his desk and growls at the sun for daring to rise on
another day with no news about Spike’s whereabouts.
Fred and Gunn share an uneasy look and make the unconscious decision to
keep their eyes lowered. For two days they’ve been trying to locate Spike and
even with the resources of a multi-billion dollar law firm, they have been
remarkably unsuccessful. For every day that passes without news, Angel’s temper
worsens. Only the loyalist or most foolhardy are daring to brave his thunderous
presence at the moment.
“We’ve got everyone that we can spare trying to locate him Angel.” Fred
says earnestly.
“As hard as Spike is to miss in a crowd, he’s had over a century’s worth
of experience in not being found when he doesn’t want to be Angel. We have to
face the fact that he may not want to BE found by you, us, and anyone else. He
didn’t seem real happy when he left.” Gunn says glumly.
No one pays much attention as the door to the office eases open and a
blond head peeks around the edge of the door tentatively.
“I WANT SPIKE FOUND AND BROUGHT BACK TO LA AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. NOTICE I
DIDN’T SAY HUMANLY POSSIBLE, BUT AS SOON AS ANYTHING POSSIBLE!”
Angel snarls.
Outside the doors to Angel’s office, Harmony takes a deep breath and
holding the tray of coffee, Danishes, and a mug of blood for Angel, pushes
through the door.
“I thought you could use a little something to tide you over.” She says
quietly, carefully schooling her expression and tone into an unemotional
business manner.
She hands out the coffee and places the mug of blood near Angel’s hand
and sets the plate of pastries down on the corner of the desk. She takes a deep
breath and steels herself to say something.
“I couldn’t help overhearing you…about Spike. Why don’t you have Lorne
use his contacts to get in touch with the Agency and ask them where Spike is?”
She says softly.
Everyone turns and stares at her like she has two heads and one of them
is spinning around doing a lovely impression of Linda Blair in the Exorcist
movie.
“Ummm the agency? You know the one that represents Spike?” She shakes her
head at the blank stares. “Am I the only one here that cares about fashion?!
I’ll be right back.” She turns and flounces out of the office, feeling their
eyes staring at her every inch of the way. She’s back within a minute or two
flipping through one of those thick, glossy paged magazines she always seems to
have on hand. Finding what she’s looking for she sets the magazine down on the
desk in front of Fred and everyone leans over to look at what she’s pointing
at.
Angel stares for a moment as he puzzles out what he’s looking at upside
down. It’s a close up of a very shapely male butt encased in black jeans that
must be affecting his ability to breathe. A graceful yet still masculine hand
is half shoved into a back pocket, displaying several chunky silver rings.
There’s something pretty damn familiar about that tasty view…
“SPIKE?!” Angel says shocked. He blinks as all eyes flash to him. “What?
I…recognised one of his rings.” He says defensively. He ignores the trio as
they share a look that shouts their belief that he recognised more than a ring.
Harmony leans over and flips the page and Angel’s breath is caught on a
strangled moan. The two page centrefold has a huge picture of his devastatingly
handsome nemesis; that practically oozes sex and debauchery. Spike is lying on
his back sprawled across a leather sofa wearing only a pair of sinfully tight
threadbare blue jeans. One arm tossed casually over his eyes and his face is
angled partially away from the camera. The corner of his mouth nearest the
camera is turned up in a slight smile that gives you the definite impression
that he’s dreaming of a very private joke. His throat is bared as his head is
tilted slight back and to the side and a very faint scar can be seen. Angel
stares at his mark, displayed so prominently on the alabaster perfection of
that succulent throat. His chest is bare but the soft lighting they’ve used
puts every line and ripple of muscle in his very delicious musculature into
sharp relief. Angel licks his lips and swallows heavily at the sight of the
silver hoop piercing thrust through his belly button and sporting two tiny
charms. He leans a little closer but can’t make out what the charms are and
scowls slightly in disappointment. One leg is bent at the knee and his other
hand rests low on his belly, partially under the fly of his partially
unbuttoned button-fly jeans. His bare toes and fingernails sport his gothic
black polish, but unlike days gone by the polished nails are neat and gleaming
with no chipping. The effect is rather striking given his moonlight pale skin
and it lends him a startling air of vulnerability that is very appealing…that
is very…William.
“I want to know how long…” He gestures wildly towards the magazine.
“…THAT has been going on?!” He snarls and grabs his mug of blood and downs it
with hungry gulps. It’s not being ripped out of Spike’s throat but it’ll do in
a pinch.
Wesley walks in to hear his furious snarl and hurries over to the desk
and tries to peek over shoulders to see what everyone is staring at.
“Oh merciful…I see we’ve found Spike.” He leans over Fred’s shoulder to
get a closer look but jumps back when Angel snarls at him and reaches over and
slams the magazine closed.
“I’m paying you to find him, not stand here drooling over him! Harmony,
get Lorne on the line and have him do whatever he has to do to get Spike back
in LA as soon as possible. Gunn I want you to secure a safe house, somewhere
defensible, you know what we need. Make sure the details are kept just between
you and myself and make sure nothing can be tracked back to us. Wes, Fred…keep
cracking the whip and get me some idea of Penn’s whereabouts. Pull the teams
off Spike and put everyone on locating
Everyone scampers and clears out of the room while the getting is good.
They’ll all feel much better when Spike’s back in LA and Angel finally puts his
fangs away!
Angel growls and walks around to his desk and throws himself into his
chair and sits staring at the magazine, like it’s going to get up and start
chewing on his jugular at any minute.
Harmony is just hanging up the phone from her conversation with Lorne,
when Angel yanks open his office door and storms out, striding for his private
elevator.
“Harmony, reschedule everything for today or reassign the appointments, I
don’t care which. I’ll be doing some research and I don’t want to be disturbed
unless it’s news about Spike or that other matter.” He snaps.
“Yes, Sir, I’ll take…” The elevator doors are already closing. “…Care of
it.” She shrugs and goes into Angel’s office to get her magazine back but she
can’t find it.
Angel sighs as the elevator doors close and he collapses against the back
of the car like a puppet with its strings cut. He flips his jacket out of the
way and reaches behind his back and pulls Harmony’s magazine out of its hiding
place. He flips through the pages and finds the pictures of Spike.
“You’re still the finest figure of a Vampire there ever was my Laddy.” He
strokes the picture and smiles reaching down to adjust himself in his trousers
with a snicker. “Apparently my other parts agree.”
*
Chapter Three
Lorne hangs up his phone and rubs his hand over his face. He wonders if
he pays Danny enough to have him make the call to Angel and relay the
surprising information that he’s got about Spike. He grimaces and decides that
there probably isn’t that much money in the world and reluctantly picks up the
receiver and dials Angel’s cell phone.
“This better be damn important Harmony or you’re going to need that
dental plan you’re always yapping about!”
“Whoa there, you’re about a twelve on the tension scale there, Angel-cakes.
I’ll let you get back to twisting the heads off whatever…shortly. Harmony said
you wanted any information about Spike relayed to you immediately and well I
have some major news sweetheart.” He says smoothly. He hears a muffled curse
and what sounds like rustling fabric and what almost sounds like a zipper…?
“Did you talk to whomever and find out where he is and find out a way to
get his ass back here?”
Lorne stops a snicker of amusement at the last moment. “Well that’s the
big news Sweet-cheeks. We don’t need to bring Spike back to LA; he’s been here
for the last three days on a photo shoot for the jeans company he represents. I
pulled some strings and called in a few favours and I’ve got a copy of his
itinerary for the week. He was supposed to fly out on Friday with his personal
assistant slash bodyguard, but I assumed you wanted me to put a stop to that.
I’ve arranged to have him booked for photo shoots with several of our fashion
clients. Blondie’s made quite the name for himself this past year; I could get
him booked anywhere.”
“Remind me to give you a raise Lorne. Bring copies of what you have up to
the Penthouse, including where I can find Spike tonight.”
“I’d never turn down a raise Angel-cakes, but you’d do me a bigger favour
by giving Harmony her magazine back. She keeps coming in here and asking me if
I’m…done with it yet. Ciao.” Lorne drops the phone onto the receiver and
finally breaks into laughter. The laughter fades though as the image of his
gorgeous friend becomes entangled with his smaller but oh so beautiful blond
rival in his mind.
*
Chapter Four
Angel skulks in the shadow of a nearby tent as he edges his way closer to
the photo shoot, wanting to catch a glimpse of Spike’s flashy new career in
action. He growls softly when he can’t get a clear look and looks around for a
better vantage point. He spies a bunch of trees clustered fairly close together
and off to the side that could be a good spot. Only he’s apparently not the
first to realise that as he sees a familiar pair of heads poke out of the
shadows. He works his way around and sneaks up on the pair.
“What are you two doing here?”
Fred and Lorne whirl around in shock and have the decency to look
embarrassed.
“Sorry Angel-cakes, we couldn’t pass up the chance to see…to watch a
fashion shoot.”
He growls softly but decides to let it go and turns his attention back to
the photo shoot and his eyes almost pop out of his head.
Some brunette ape of a man has been posed sitting leaning a tree wearing
little more than boots, jeans and hair. His legs are open wide and braced
against the ground and he looks like nothing less than a lion staking out his
territory. It’s the vision draped over the low hanging branch above him that
has captured his attention. Spike is draped over the tree in a pose an Olympic
gymnast would probably be hard pressed to hold for long but it is child play
for the lithe blond Vampire. He is laughing and relaxed as he lays on his back
half on and half over the tree limb, his head braced on the shoulder of the
ape. He’s barefoot and his chest is bared by his unbuttoned shirt and the jeans
he’s sporting are painted sin.
He forces himself to be objective and he admits that Spike’s slender but
muscular physique and pale colouring look very good against the more solid
build of his darker skinned fellow model.
“Angel…that guy kind of looks like you…” Fred whispers, leaning forward
to have a closer look at her friend and boss. “Well…except for the whole he
smiles and laughs thing.”
Lorne leans forward around Fred and tilts his head considering the matter
then looks back over at the brunette model and making a smacking sound. “I
think he looks…hungrier. Great hair, I like the tousled mussed mouse look he’s
got going on.”
“Yeah I know what you mean; it looks so good with Spike’s ultra short
hair too!” Fred agrees enthusiastically. “They look really good together too,
don’t they?”
“Oh yeah Sweetie, I can feel the Yin and Yang vibe from here, nuclear
heat, Momma.”
Angel snarls and is about to tell them both to shut up and leave when
movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention and he turns back
to the shoot. The photographer and an army of assistants are buzzing around
rearranging their models and he growls to see that Spike is now sitting on the
ground between the ape’s knees, reclining against his chest. Angel’s eyes
narrow as the ape looks up at the photographer and nods then slides his hand
down Spike’s chest. The photographer looks through the viewfinder and shakes
his head and points his thumb down and Angel snarls as the man runs his hand
over Spike’s abdomen and tucks his hand under the waistband of his jeans. The
photographer snaps a couple of shots then shakes his head and motions to an
assistant who nods and kneels beside Spike and opens the top button of his
jeans and then the second.
The photographer straddles Spike’s legs and leans over snapping a dozen
shots of his abdomen and the ape’s hand in quick succession. The ape moves his
hand up to Spike’s chest and photographer goes into a frenzy of clicking. After
a few more re-posing sessions there’s a small break in the work and Angel stares
at his first glimpse of Spike in over a year.
He looks beyond terrific. He looks like every dirty thought he’s ever
had, wrapped in every orgasm that’s ever ripped through him and surrounded by
every fantasy he’s ever had.
That body was once his exclusive property. Only Angelus was allowed to
see his boy unclothed. To look upon that flawless skin was instant pain for the
minion foolish enough to be caught doing it by their dread lord and Master. To
touch that flawless skin was so much worse; nothing but death would absolve
that sin and Angelus was so cruelly clever with the manner those deaths would
take. It wasn’t long before the household, before the whole of the Vampire
Community knew that William the Bloody was Angelus’ most prized possession. To
trespass was to court a very excruciating and extremely prolonged death
sentence. It was not unknown for an unfortunate minion who had unwittingly
broken the rules; or worse still willingly broken them in their lust for the
blonde Prince; to run into the sun rather than face Angelus’ punishment.
Only those closest to them were allowed to see them in their quiet
moments, safe and secure from the prying eyes of the ‘public’ knew the truth.
As Angelus possessed, so to in that possession was he owned able to deny his
William nothing; even unspoken wishes became reality as Angelus sought to
please his beloved boy. The care Angelus lavished on his favourite was
extraordinary, even excessive by some standards. He spent many an hour at the
tailor’s shop patiently observing the tailor custom fitting the latest of
fashions for his boy.
He ordered the construction of a huge tub that he demanded accompany them
on all their travels, no matter where in the world they may roam. Every morning
before they retired; he would order the bath filled with steaming water and
rich bath oils that made the whole floor smell like a garden of orchids.
Angelus’ obsession with his personal grooming was almost as legendary as his
cruelty but what so few would know is that Angelus’ greatest pleasure came from
attending to his boy. They would never know that it was his boy that would feel
the first touch of that soothing wet heat as his besotted lover bathed him as
tenderly as babe. They would never see the adoration and desire as places were
exchanged and the tender hands of his boy washed his daily cares away. That
ritual was sacrosanct and not even Darla, in one of her countless jealous
tirades could force Angelus to give up that time with his boy. While he may be
commanded to her bed, he would never arrive until after his bath with his boy;
knowing that his boy was tucked into either his warm bed or the arms of his own
Sire.
They would never see the two silent figures stealing from the beds of
their Sires; to curl up in the warmth of an empty bed to seek their own dreams
together. Nothing short of a direct order would keep them apart and then sleep
was rare in coming until each slipped into their dreams, where the arms they
long to have around them waited for them.
Fate was kind to them as Darla was often called away to attend the whims
of her own Sire; leaving them to live and love as they wished. To all that knew
their hearts it was clear to see where they wished to be. Together.
“Oh. My. God.” Fred breathes. “You have a brother you didn’t tell us
about Angel? Because that man really does look like you…” She says sighing
dreamily.
“If that was a ride at
“What the fuck does that have to do with selling jeans??!” He growls and
curses vehemently.
They’ve got the ape back on the
ground with his hands braced behind him and his legs stretched out. Spike is
perched in his lap, straddling his hips with an easy grace. He’s laughing and
talking animatedly with his fellow model as an army of assistants buzz around
them fussing with their appearance. Their bared chests now sport heavy biker
style leather jackets all black and silver studded garments of sin. Suddenly
the army of buzzing assistants is gone and Spike grabs the lapels of the ape’s
jacket and yanks him closer, angling his head until his mouth is almost
brushing the bridge of his nose. Both men sport half smiles that belay the
angriness of the pose. The subtle expressions transforming it into that
breathless moment of pulse pounding timelessness that stretches into infinity
right before the abandonment to a passionate embrace.
“I think it’s supposed to be like subliminal messages. Buy our jeans and
you too can have a sexy blond man using you as a chair, yeah sit on me, ride me
baby, you know you want to…” Fred lets her voice trail off as Angel and Lorne
turn to stare at her funny. “Or something like that…” She says with a slight
shrug and a totally unrepentant smile that is almost out of character for her;
but then anyone within a mile of Spike is prone to behave VERY
uncharacteristically.
Angel is about to make a very un-angelesque comment, but Lorne steps in
to prevent it.
“Looks like the shoot is winding up.” He sounds apologetic but Angel is
relieved he won’t have to watch Spike riding the ape man anymore.
He looks over at the shoot sight and he sees that they do indeed seem to
be packing up as Spike and the ape are packed off amidst a crowd of stylists
for one of the tents. Just as Angel is about to jump up and storm the tents
impatiently Spike reappears. He is wearing simple black boots, painted on black
leather jeans and a cobalt blue button front dress shirt. In typical casual
Spike style the sleeves are unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows and the
shirt is mostly unbuttoned to show off his more than impressive build. Only the
fact that the shirt is neatly tucked in and bloused just ever so slightly above
a silver link chain belt; saves the look from being over the top. Instead of
Angel growls as the ape shows up dressed in much the same casual style as
Spike is and strolls over to the two men with a big goofy looking grin.
“Enough of the bushes, let’s go get him.” Angel states implacably.
He darts around the thicket of trees and bushes and emerges down the
path. He’ll be dammed if he’ll let Spike catch him skulking out the bushes like
some peeping tom. Fred and Lorne hurriedly fall in behind him.
He hears the photographer yell as they walk up the path.
“That was a terrific shoot, Wil, David! You two are going to make rich
one of these days!”
“You’ve already got more money than most people ever see Morty!” The
unmistakable cockney purr of Spike’s voice rings out loudly as does the
laughter caused by his retort.
He’s still some distance away as the ape slides onto the motorcycle
behind the black leather garbed rider, putting on the helmet he hands to him.
He can hear the shivery delicious sound of flesh on leather as the ape hits the
helmeted driver.
“As they say in the movies, home James!” There is more laughter as the
ape effects a fake posh, upper crust accent that turns into a shriek of
surprised laughter as the Motorcycle explodes into motion.
Spike is still chuckling as he watches their arrival with hooded eyes. He
steps smoothly around Angel without so much as a hello to treat Fred to a warm
hug and a kiss on the cheek before he shakes hands with Lorne and laughs as the
big green softy sticks his cheek out in mute demand. He obligingly presses a
quick kiss to the proffered cheek and steps back to cross his hands over his
belt buckle and raise an eyebrow in silent demand for Angel’s benefit.
“What, no fond hello for me after all this time?” Angel snaps, his eyes
flashing darkly.
*He’s just spent an hour watching this bleached blond pain in his ass
rubbing himself all over some big ape and he can’t even get a nod of respect or
a hello?*
The fire igniting in Spike’s glacial eyes are the only warning as he
stalks forward. Angel holds his ground and steels himself for the punch sure to
be flying his way. He gasps as Spike presses his chest tightly to his and leans
up and drags his tongue over his lower lip in a slow lick.
“Hello Angel.” He whispers blowing softly on his glistening lower lip and
stepping back with a smirk as Angel can’t stop the shudder that wracks his
powerful form.
Angel clenches his hands into fists, forcing his arms to stay at his
sides and not yank Spike against his body. “Yeah, you’re looking…well.” Angel
says, clearing his throat nervously and looking away nervously. He herds
everyone back down the path, grateful that Spike doesn’t put up a fight but
merely follows the group along.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Spike asks lighting a
cigarette and taking a deep drag as he walks along with easy grace, his
stalking stride eerily silent against the concrete path.
“Penn’s free.” Angel decides there’s no simple way to break the news so
he decides to opt for the straight forward approach. “He…I’m sorry William, he
staked Drusilla. We think he’s killed Buffy also.”
To their shock Spike shows no outward reaction to the heartbreaking news
other then to pull the cigarette out of his mouth and crush it to dust in his
hand. He opens his hand and watches as the night breeze blows the ashes away.
“I’m well aware that Penn is free. I have been for several days since he
sent me Miss Edith and Buffy’s head in a box. He’s going to come for me and I
am going to kill the son of a bitch slowly.” His voice holds a note Angel has
heard before, usually right before some European town found its streets ankle
deep in blood. Spike speeds up and turns to face the trio and plants his feet.
The look in his eyes has Fred making a squeaking noise and darting behind
Lorne to peek around his shoulder with wide, frightened eyes.
“Don’t get in my way on this Angelus. Dru was my Sire. I loved Buffy
once, and he won’t get y…he won’t get passed me Angel. I am going to kill him
Angel, and you can save your sanctimonious justice speech…the only justice
he’ll be facing is mine.” Spike growls thickly. “Whether he’s your Childe or
not, I will see that he meets his final death at my hands for what he’s done.”
Spike’s eyes flash amber. “Once I tire of hearing his screams.”
Fred squeaks again and ducks behind Lorne; who turns to comfort her,
unable to stop his own shiver of fear.
Angel looks at Spike and inhales sharply. William the Bloody is alive and
well and LA is going to be inundated with a tide of blood until Penn is
delivered to his hands. He knows that for all the tales of William the Bloody’s
exploits a century ago, they are nothing compared to what this modern
incarnation is capable of. He always secretly thought that the histories were
all wrong when they mistakenly labelled William as the Right Hand of Death,
protégé extraordinaire to Angelus. In truth he was more Chaos and Anarchy than
death. He was too passionate, too uncontrollable, and too personal to be death.
Death plays no favourites and it makes no bargains and it calls no man Master.
Death is a force of nature, that recognises no boundaries, no treaties, and it
is the irresistible force that drives forward and never stops until its purpose
is achieved.
No they had it all wrong, Angel knows. It wasn’t William that stood at
the right hand of Death but he who stood at its right hand. THIS is the Spike
he warned Buffy about so many years ago. He won’t stop, he won’t rest until
Penn and anyone in his way is dead.
He feels Angelus uncurl deep inside him, rising to meet the siren call of
Spike’s vengeance and he faces a truth that he has been denying since the
package arrived. His reasons for wanting Spike back in LA are more complex than
just wanting to be sure he was safe. That was a huge part of his need to have
Spike at his side once more to be sure and perhaps it’s the most important
reason. He wants his companion back, he wants to run once more at the right
hand of Death and watch him be the monster he raised him to be. This moonlight
pale warrior is the finest and greatest example of his legacy. A demon with the
heart of a hero that can love beyond the confines of what any boundaries say he
should be capable of. Drusilla may have sired William, but Angelus was the God
that created Spike, not in his own image but rather to be his equal. The
sublime realisation of countless millennia of Vampiric evolution, indoctrinated
in blood, forged in pain, and honed into killing sharpness; tempered with the
capacity for emotion and devotion that has always made him unique among their
kind. He is the only one of his bloodline with the strength, the will, the
sheer ferocity and skill to follow him out of the darkness and into the light.
Spike fought for and reclaimed his soul but that doesn’t make him one ounce
less a Demon and that is maybe his greatest strength and the lesson he’s been
trying to teach him all along.
He remembers well their last conversation before Spike left his side; he
sees the inescapable truth of it now. Seeing how well William has integrated
the demon he was into the man he is. That is something he has never quite
managed to do. He’s never heard Spike living in fear of his Demon breaking free
because he embraced his Demon over a century ago. If Spike loses his soul, he
seriously wonders if anyone would be able to tell. Spike without a soul is very
much like Spike with it; such is his mastery over his Demon side.
"I may be damned
to an existence without the sunlight Angel. That doesn't mean I have to exist
in the darkness and live in the shadows of what I've done as a Demon without a
soul. We are Demons, we did what it was in our natures to do and yes we took
lives and we fed off the living. Wolves, spiders, they're all hunters Angel,
killing to survive, feeding to live. Are they evil? They're just doing what is
in their nature to do. I've killed two Slayers Angel; and let's not kid
ourselves we both know if we had truly wanted Buffy dead than she would have
been; and do I regret it? I regret the fact that I took their lives over their
misguided ideals yes but I everything in me that is a Demon knows it was a
fight to the death. I am a Vampire and they were Slayers, born, trained, and
motivated to kill me and every one of my kind. I did what it was in my nature
to do."
"I fought them
and I won and I survived while they didn't. How many nameless, faceless
Vampires did they kill in the time that they had? You're still buying into the
human sensibilities Angel and denying what you are. Harmony is a Vampire, she
doesn't have a soul Angel; are you still under the mistaken impression that
she's evil? It's not in her nature to be evil, it's in her NATURE to try and be
something more, even without her soul. Like I said earlier tonight, I’m NOTHING
like you, Hero."
"Humans have
souls and they've committed acts more heinous than anything you and I have ever
conceived of, so what makes them better than us Liam? I kill my own kind to
save them and sometimes I wonder why I do until I remember that none of that
matters in the end. I am a Demon, with a soul, but always and forever I will do
what it is in MY nature to do. And you sure as hell won't find any mention of
MY nature in any book about Vampire behaviour. I won't apologise for what I've
done in the past because that's what pasts are FOR; to learn from. I've learned
the lessons teacher.”
“I'm leaving Angel
and I'm going to find out what I want to grow up into, because I think that I
finally have grown up. It's time to write my own book about who Spike is. I do
know I'm not about being the pawn in a game so large I can't even see the
board. I never was one for rules now was I? See you around Peaches. Maybe I’ll
come back and visit you when you get the grand prize huh and watch you find out
that you were human all along. In the only ways that matter anyway. I don’t see
what difference having a heartbeat and having to use the bathroom will make but
I’m sure it must be a grand prize if you’re willing to risk your life for it."
At first he wasn’t really sure that Spike was serious about leaving, as
he’d started and stopped doing that very same thing on more than one occasion.
Then he realised that Spike hadn’t insulted him, well not seriously, even once.
He knew then that Spike would leave but part of him knew that one day he would
be back. Would return because here is where he is and where he is, is where
Spike has always belonged.
The hell-spawned heroes that can finally take their rightful places at
each other’s side; fighting for their places in the light. They were once the
Scourge of
Now he just has to find a way to get Spike to accept that as a fact and
stop fighting him and accept what he himself has always known. William was born
to be the only thing Angelus will ever love more than himself and he died to
ensure that he would always be at his side. They will find and destroy Penn
together. Then they’ll talk about their relationship; even if he has to tie up
the blond pain in the ass and keep him locked up to make him stay with him.
“I don’t plan to stop you Spike. I plan to help you.”
Spike steps forward smoothly and backhands Angel with a powerful blow
that spins him partly sidewise.
“MY kill Angelus, you stay out of my way, Peaches! You don’t have what
it’s going to take to do what needs to be done in the way it needs to be done,
not anymore.” Spike growls with deadly intent.
Angel roars as his eyes flash amber and he leaps his fist flying at
Spike’s jaw but Spike springs into a back flip and catches him under the jaw
with a boot, knocking him to the ground. Rather than press his advantage, Spike
snarls and spins on his heel stalking back up the path the way they came. He
dodges to the side as the muscular form of Angel soars past where he was just
standing, but he doesn’t have time to dodge the roundhouse punch, so he lets
the momentum carry him away from Angel.
The pair snarls and hisses as their Demons come out and they drop into
crouches ready to battle to face off for dominance. They circle warily and to
Angel’s surprise Spike remains calm and focused rather than rushing in to
attack as he has in the past. Perhaps he’s changed more than he’s appreciated.
He seems much more grounded and fixed in his objectives. Focus combined with
his innate vampiric abilities that only enhance his more than exceedingly
devastating fighting prowess, the chances of either winning is at best an even
bet.
They leap at the same time, landing and receiving a flurry of destructive
blows that probably would have killed a human. Angel’s greater strength and reach
countering Spike’s fluid grace and sheer speed; both are hard pressed to gain
any clear advantage. Suddenly Spike leaps into a side scissor kick and lands a
solid blow to Angel’s chest, sending him staggering back. Before he can regain
his balance, Spike leaps into the air and spins into a crouch with his left leg
extended and sweeps Angel’s feet out from under him, letting the momentum spin
him around and smoothly back to his feet. He quickly back flips out of Angel’s
strike range, drops back into a crouch and is about to spring in for another
flurry of kicks to keep Angel off-balance, when he suddenly freezes and turns
around to look disbelievingly at Fred and Lorne. Angel is back on his feet and
charging forward, just as Spike crumbles to the ground in a boneless heap.
Angel draws himself up short and stands staring down at the unconscious
Vampire, perplexed as to why he went down. He’s positive that none of his blows
were enough to render him unconscious; they’d barely begun to fight. Then he
notices the small dart sticking out of Spike’s neck and he turns to stare at
Fred and Lorne.
Lorne is looking at Fred with amazement and Angel spies the small dart
gun in her hand and shares the sentiment and joins him.
“What?! It worked didn’t it?” Fred says innocently enough as the pair
just keep staring at her. “I figured it wasn’t likely that Spike would come
along quietly.” She says quickly, to justify her actions. “It was Wesley’s
suggestion.” She hurriedly adds.
“Maybe we should just get Spike and go Honey-buns, while the going is
good.” Lorne suggests.
“Good idea, I guess. Maybe he’ll have calmed down enough to be
reasonable.” He kneels and pries the dart out of Spike’s neck unconsciously
rubbing the red mark its left and wiping off the small drops of blood its shed.
He levers Spike up carefully, rolling him towards him as he stands until he
cradled in his arms with his head supported in the crook of his neck and
shoulder. “Let’s go, I don’t think we want to deal with him waking up in
public, he’s going to be pissed enough he was tranquillised.” Angel glances
down at Spike and marvels at how light he is. He’s constantly amazed by Spike’s
strength and skill as a fighter; it’s easy to forget that physically he’s built
rather like a wild cat. All long lines and sinew without a spare ounce of fat
anywhere. His agility is all but unmatched and his speed is astonishing with a
talent for moves that few fighters could hope to pull off. That spinning leg
sweep is a devastating move that unfortunately would be ill suited to his
broader physique or he’d have to hound him to teach him how to execute that
move.
His skills as a fighter have improved greatly. He noticed that Spike,
typically a puncher in times past was relying more heavily on kicks and
lightning jabs when he could land a punch. It was quite impressive, the longer
reach and strength in his legs countering his stronger punching power and
superior reach quite effectively. He’s going to have to convince him to spar
with him more often; it would improve both their skills greatly to be pitted
against each other.
“I’ll meet you back at the office; I’ll take Spike with me in case he
wakes up.” He turns away from Fred and Lorne and crosses the park to where he
parked the Viper.
*You were wrong my Laddy. I do have what it takes to do what has to be
done. And not just about
Angel glances at the limp form in his arms and holds him closer. It’s
time to get his boy home.
TBC