Part 3
Scene: Spike's apartment. Pan to the bed. Lindsey is sitting up against the headboard, a sheet covering his lap--he's got a post-coital look about him. Spike is reaching across for a pack of cigarettes, which are on the bedside table on the other side of the bed. He's under a sheet, but when he turns and reaches up to get the cigarettes, the top of his ass peeks above the line of the sheets. He takes a cigarette from the pack and lights it with one of those cheap plastic lighters you get at gas stations. He puts the pack and the lighter down and turns back toward Lindsey as he puts the cigarette in his mouth. He stays on his side and leans up on his elbow.
Lindsey: "I'll take a drag."
Spike: "Thought you didn't smoke." [Handing him the cigarette.]
Lindsey: "Yeah, well, I've been doing a lot of things lately that I don't do." [He takes a drag and it's rather obvious from his technique that he must have been a smoker at some point.]
Spike: [taking it back] "These things'll kill you."
Lindsey: "Somehow, I don't think I'll have to worry about that." [He gives Spike a wry smile.]
Spike: [smiling back] "There's always a hint of malice in your smile. I like it."
There's a knock at the door. Spike doesn't look surprised and quickly gets up, pulls his jeans on and goes to the door. The kid at the door hands him a bag and Spike hands the kid a few bills. He puts the bag triumphantly on the counter and pulls out two six packs of beer.
Lindsey: "Stella. What's the occasion?"
Spike: [tossing him a bottle, with a smirk] "Only the best for my kitten. [Lindsey gives him a look.] I managed to wire up some cable over the weekend and now I get ESPN2."
Lindsey: [sarcasm] "Because you don't watch enough TV."
Spike: [getting an idea] "You like football?"
Lindsey: [shrugging, unenthusiastic] "As much as the next guy. Unless you mean soccer."
Spike: [frowning] "No, I mean football. Not to be confused with American football, a game for no-necked pansies who don't have the balls to play rugby or the fitness to play real football."
Lindsey: "Yeah."
Spike: "Yeah, what?"
Lindsey: "Yeah, I like it."
Spike: [His face brightens at this.] "Haven't watched for ages--not since this whole bloody soul business. They're showing ManU vs. Arsenal in a bit. [Indicating the beer] Only the best for my boy, Becks."
Lindsey: "Oof. [shaking his head] You've been out of it a while--got some bad news for you. Becks isn't playing for ManU anymore."
Spike: [First looking shocked, then shaking his head dismissively.] "Pull the other one, it's got bells on."
Lindsey: "I have no idea what that means, but he's seriously not playing for ManU."
Spike: "We're talking about DAVID BECKHAM." [enunciating obviously]
Lindsey: "I know who 'Becks' is."
Spike: "You best not be joking--this is serious stuff. [Off of Lindsey's look] He's not dead, is he?"
Lindsey: [Laughing at Spike's obvious discomposure at this idea.] "No, he's not dead. He's making buttloads of money playing for Real Madrid."
Spike: "Blimey. Didn't see that coming. They've got quite a team now then, don't they? Bloody Spaniards."
Lindsey: "I think you're taking it very well."
Spike: [shrugging] "It's all about the Sport, innit? [beat] You want to stick around for the match? It's still early. We can fool around at half-time."
Lindsey: [smiling] "Yeah, I'll stick around."
He takes a swig from his beer and in a minute starts slowly shaking his head, obviously thinking about something. Spike is busy moving the TV-stand and TV in front of the bed, but he notices Lindsey's look.
Spike: "If you say 'this is fucked up' one more time..."
Lindsey: "I think we've moved beyond 'fucked-up' and into 'surreal' at this point. But hey, I wouldn't have it any other way."
Flopping back on the bed, once he's pleased with the TV positioning.
Spike: [smirking, knowingly] "Sure you would. But here we are." [He clinks his beer bottle against Lindsey's and then takes a drink.]
The pre-game show is starting.
Lindsey: "I used to play. In high school--a bit in college, too."
Spike: "Yeah? What position?"
Lindsey: "Striker."
Spike: [Giving him a once-over as if to determine the likelihood--he looks away satisfied.] "You any good?"
Lindsey: "Not bad. Blew out my ACL sophomore year. [He moves the sheet to reveal the scar on his right knee] It was strictly pre-law from there on out. You ever play?"
Spike: "Not really the sporting type when I was human and then there was the whole daylight problem. Still, tried to put a team together once. We were in South America somewhere--turned a couple of the best local club players and figured we could put together a demon pick-up game when the pitches were empty at night. Didn't work out. Couldn't keep the bloody ball on the field--not one delicate touch in the lot of them. And we wouldn't be playing more than five minutes before somebody was ripping somebody's head clean off. You'd think they could take 90 bloody minutes off from being evil. Waste of time, is what it was."
Lindsey is laughing at the ridiculousness of it.
Lindsey: "A demon pick-up game?"
Spike at first looks mildly offended, but the laughs.
Spike: "Yeah, maybe not one of my best ideas. [Lindsey is still laughing] It's not THAT funny."
Lindsey: "Sorry. I just keep picturing you of all people trying to keep peace on the field."
Spike pretends to be offended and takes his beer bottle and slams the top of Lindsey's bottle with the bottom of it, causing the beer to foam up. Lindsey barely gets his mouth around it before drips all over his chest.
Lindsey: [rhetorically] "How old are you?"
Spike grins and looks at the splash of beer on Lindsey's chest and you can tell he's thinking about leaning over and licking it off. But before he does, they hear the starting whistle of the game and he tosses him a towel instead as the both focus on the TV. They watch the game, making various cracks and comments, basically enjoying each other's company. See, this is the problem. This is what makes both men uncomfortable--they like each other. For reasons that are not entirely clear, and perhaps even unlikely given their backgrounds, they get on well. Things would be much simpler, much more controllable if it was just work and fucking. The half-time whistle blows. Spike reaches over and takes the half-full beer out of Lindsey's hand and goes to set it next to his on the bedside table.
Lindsey: "Hey, I wasn't finished."
Spike: [duh] "We've only got 15 minutes."
Lindsey smiles and slides down on the bed so that he's laying next to Spike (instead of sitting up against the headboard like before) and turns so that he's facing him. Spike rolls over onto his side and pulls Lindsey closer as he moves in for a kiss. The kissing starts hot and stays hot, as they writhe on the bed, pressing their bodies against each other, hands wandering. Lindsey moves to unfasten Spike's jeans and as he is working his hands down the front of them, Spike whispers, hoarsely:]
Spike: "Let's get in the shower. You have to anyway before you take off, and we could have some fun."
Lindsey: "Sounds good to me."
Spike hops up and heads into the bathroom, the tip of his hard cock just peaking over the top of his unbuttoned jeans. He reaches behind the shower curtain to turn the water on and adjust the temperature. When he's satisfied, he turns to see Lindsey standing in the doorway, watching him longingly, moving his hand slowly over his own erection. Spike licks his lips at the sight and without taking his eyes off him, strips off his jeans and then opens the shower curtain as an invitation. Lindsey steps past him and into the tub. Spike quickly follows and stops to watch the stream of steamy water wash over Lindsey's naked body. As Lindsey puts his head under the gushing water, wetting his hair, Spike moves toward him and kisses him, the water now pouring over both of them. Lindsey pulls away after a few seconds.]
Lindsey: "I do have to breathe, you know."
Spike: "Too bad."
Lindsey steps forward, pushing Spike out of the stream of water. He grabs a bar of soap, lathers it up in his hand and starts to run his slippery hands over Spike's wet body, leaving trails of suds on his chest, shoulders and back.
Spike: [smirking] "I think you missed a few spots."
Lindsey shakes his head and moves his soapy hands downward to Spike's hips. In order to reach behind him, he must move a bit closer, bringing their bodies within inches of each other--their erections resting against each other's wet skin. As Lindsey reaches his hands around to start soaping Spike's ass, Spike leans in to kiss him, greedily tugging at his lips, then pushing his tongue deep inside.
Lindsey: [pulling away] "Do you want to get clean, or not? Stop distracting me."
Spike: "I have every confidence a college boy like yourself can manage two things at once."
More kissing. Lindsey pushes the soapy fingers of his right hand between Spike's cheeks and wiggles two inside him. Spike lets out a small grunt of approval as Lindsey slips the tips of his fingers in and out a few times. Next, he slides his hands around to the front and after lathering them a bit more with the soap, reaches down between Spike's legs and gently caresses his balls with his soapy hands. Soon, he moves his hands up to the base of his cock and works up a lather with both hands rubbing the long length of it. Spike can't stop from whimpering "Yeah" as he closes his eyes in response to Lindsey's touch. He feels himself getting harder and knows he could come from this easily. But in a minute, he reaches down and pulls Lindsey's hands away, breaking the kiss at the same time.
Spike: "No need to be so thorough--'m only gonna get it dirty again in a minute."
And so now it's clear what Spike has in mind and that he's the one to be on top this time. Actually, since this whole thing started--this bizarro "affair" they've been having, if you want to call it that--Spike is on top most of the time; not all, but most. There's no clear reason why. Lindsey doesn't seem to mind--there's a part of him that likes to be fucked. By Spike, anyway. Maybe it's the idea of it--the feel of it--the passivity of it. Maybe because it's the opposite of anything he's done with a woman--with Eve. He actively tries not to think about it, that's for sure. But he's been satisfied. More than satisfied. And right now he WANTS it. Spike takes the soap from Lindsey's hand and moves it seductively in his hands.
Spike: "How's the temperature?"
Lindsey: "Could be hotter."
Spike: "Maybe you should see to it, then."
Lindsey smirks and turns to adjust the temperature controls. As he's bent over, fiddling with the knobs, Spike starts soaping the taught, wet skin of his muscular ass. The water starts to steam more strongly, but even though his goal is accomplished, Lindsey knows better than to stand up and turn around. In a moment, Spike's still soapy dick is pressed against the now slick opening to his ass. The anticipation is unbearable. After a moment, Lindsey rasps "Come on. Please" as he braces himself against the wall of the tub. Spike snarls his answer and after gripping Lindsey's hips firmly, thrusts himself deep inside with an exhale of relief. Lindsey grunts and tenses briefly at the forcefulness of it. Every time, he's surprised by the initial stretch as his body engulfs Spike's length. Spike pauses for a moment, closing his eyes as he adjusts to Lindsey's internal heat. Then he starts thrusting slowly--all the way in, all the way out.
Spike: "God, you feel so good. I could fuck you 24 hours a day."
Lindsey smiles and imagines the look on Spike's face.
Lindsey: "Well, we've got a 7 minutes."
Spike: [letting out a small laugh] "Guess that'll have to do."
And with that, he starts increasing the pace, pulling Lindsey's hips to him as he drives his cock in and out and in and out. Lindsey pushes back against him, shifting his weight to maximize his own pleasure with every thrust--his own dick is aching for release, which he knows won't come without Spike's direct touch. He can wait. In a minute, Spike whimpers and then inhales as he stills Lindsey forcefully with his hands, stopping all movement, leaving his cock half-way inside.
Spike: [completely lost in the sensation] "I'm right on the edge. Incredible."
Lindsey, though unable to move, tenses just a bit, thereby squeezing Spike ever-so-slightly from the inside. Spike lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan and he thrusts violently two or three times, before pulling out and coming just at the entrance of Lindsey's ass, his hot juices trickling down the crack and over his balls. When he's done, he shakes his head, smiling and leans forward a bit to rest on Lindsey. He playfully bites Lindsey's back between the shoulder blades with his human teeth.
Lindsey: "ouch"
Spike: "Naughty boy. [beat] You know, I think you're getting better at that."
Lindsey: [mildly offended at the 'better'] "Haven't heard you complain."
Spike: "There's always room for improvement--no matter how good it is to start with."
Lindsey: "Keeps it interesting."
Spike: "Exactly."
They both stand upright. Spike turns Lindsey around to face him, the hot water still streaming down his body. He watches his face intently, as his hands move downward to grip Lindsey's protruding erection. Spike likes to see the look of longing, mixed with frustration on Lindsey's face when he's waiting to come--when he's waiting for Spike to make him come. True, there's some power in it. He gives it a few strokes and then reaches for the soap. Lindsey lets out a small whimper when Spike takes his hand away, much to his chagrin. Spike can't help but smirk. His hand nice and slippery, he sets to work pumping the length of Lindsey's throbbing cock. Spike has his other hand on Lindsey's shoulder--they're bodies are very close--he keeps his head back far enough so that he can watch Lindsey's expressions as he jerks him off. A low moan starts in the back of Lindsey's throat.
Spike: [deep, sexy voice] "Think maybe I want all of it. Think maybe you should stop fucking her for a while, so there's plenty of energy for me. Yeah, I want to see her so frustrated, she's masturbating in the bathroom at Wolfram and Hart. Maybe then you can fuck me all night." [He's getting hard AGAIN.]
Lindsey: [blurts out] "I've never come as hard as when I come in your ass."
He's about to come now, in Spike's hand. But then they both gasp and revile out of the water flow.
Lindsey: "Jesus Christ, that's cold."
Obviously, the hot water has just run out.
Spike: "Told you about that weeks ago, mate. I'll just let you clean up on your own."
He jumps out of the shower and grabs a towel, leaving Lindsey with the world's most frustrated look on his face (his erection gone as a result of the cold water). He emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, looking very cold, with a towel wrapped around his waist and another one around his shoulders. Spike is reclining on the bed in his jeans, fiddling with the remote control. When he sees Lindsey, he can't help but giggle a bit.
Spike: "Harsh luck, mate. It's not so bad when you're cold blooded already."
Lindsey: [looking rather miserable] "Got anything to eat? Cold AND hungry is not a good way to get anywhere."
Spike: "Dunno. Unlikely. Check the cupboards."
Lindsey walks into the kitchen and starts opening and closing cupboards.
Lindsey: [pulling a container out of one of the cupboards] "For a guy who doesn't eat solid food, you sure have a lot of condiments. [holding up the bottle, questioningly] HP sauce?"
Spike: "Good stuff, that. Anything, really, to take away the skank of non-human blood. Lime pickle's the best--adds texture AND a kick. [thinking of something] Hey, why not have some marmalade and crackers? Crackers are on top of the fridge."
Lindsey frowns, but since there isn't anything else... He brings the crackers and the marmalade and a knife over to the bed and sits down, quickly pulling the sheet up over his legs for warmth. He slathers some marmalade onto a cracker and takes a bite.
Lindsey: [making a face and practically spitting it out and dropping the rest of the cracker on his chest] "Ech, that's disgusting. Tastes like...orange peel."
Spike: [looking over, unimpressed] "Well duh, it's bloody supposed to taste like orange peel, you nonce. It's proper English marmalade--not swimming in corn syrup like the American version."
Lindsey: "It's disgusting. I'm ordering a pizza."
Spike scoots over closer and plucks the cracker from Lindsey's chest and eats it.
Spike: "It's not disgusting. And look, now you've made a mess. Can't have Eve find you covered in marmalade--imagine what she might think."
He leans over and leisurely licks the dollop of marmalade off of Lindsey's chest (the cracker had landed face down).
Spike: "Mmm. S'better a bit warm."
He smiles up at Lindsey, as he puts his finger in the jar of marmalade and proceeds to smear it around one of Lindsey's nipples and then across his chest. He proceeds to lick it off and then lets his tongue and lips move leisurely across Lindsey's skin.
Lindsey: [smirk] "What are you doing?"
Spike: "No mess."
Spike continues to lick and kiss and kiss and lick. As he moves downward, he takes a nip at the skin under Lindsey's peck, just enough to draw a tiny bit of blood. Lindsey gasps, but doesn't push him away.
Lindsey: [sternly] "No marks, remember?"
Spike: [seductive] "Just a mosquito bite, pet. 'Suppose if I can't have blood, I can make due with other things."
Spike shifts his weight over so that he's on top of Lindsey. He moves his lips across his stomach and pulls the knot in the towel.
Lindsey: "The game's starting."
Spike: "Tell me if anything good happens."
He pulls off the towel, revealing Lindsey's growing erection. Spike smiles up at him as he kisses down the length of it, moving his lips over it on the way back up. Lindsey throws his head back and closes his eyes. In a minute, he sits up again and looks down at Spike's bobbing head.
Lindsey: "Hmmm, yeah. ahhhh." He's starting to breath heavily.
Spike pauses as his mouth reaches the bulbous tip and stays there to work his lips and tongue directly on the flesh above the rim for a minute, making Lindsey whimper and squirm. Lindsey puts his hands in Spike's hair--still wet from the shower and surprisingly soft now that it's not slicked back. He lets all sorts of sounds escape his lips as Spike milks his cock with is expert mouth, now back to sucking in the length of it until the tip brushes against the back of his throat with each stroke. It doesn't take long before he feels his orgasm begin with a tightness in his balls. Soon he's writhing and thrusting upwards, revelling in the fact that he's still in Spike's soft, wet mouth. Spike holds him in, sucking as hard as he can while he comes down his throat with a loud wail. Once he feels the pulses stop, Spike gently slips his mouth off his softening dick, moves up to the top of the bed and flops on his back, lying just close enough to touch Lindsey's shoulder. He looks at the TV.
Spike: "Hey, they scored. You were supposed to TELL me." [He playfully hits Lindsey in mock annoyance.]
Lindsey: [Grabbing his arm in defense. With a single eyebrow raise,] "Yeah, well, I had a conflict of interest."
Spike laughs. Lindsey keeps hold of Spike's arm, leaving it to rest on his chest. Spike doesn't resist and leaves it there. For the moment, Lindsey lets himself indulge in this show of affection--this feel of affection, not worrying or stressing or over-thinking it. As usual, on his way home, he'll rationalize it all away again. He'll convince himself that it's entirely physical--some sort of chemical thing. Or an act of rebellion (against what?) or maybe surrender. Or it's just exciting because it's new--experimentation, that's all. Anything other than a connection. Anything other than a real complication. Surely, it's just an escape. It feels like an escape. Maybe that's why he doesn't want to be anywhere else right now. Maybe that's why he's angry at the match clock for running down too quickly. But for now, he'll let himself enjoy it--he'll let himself enjoy lying next to him, being near him. Maybe he'll even let himself imagine it not ending badly. Just for now. Just 'till the end of the game.
***
The next day. There's a sharp knock at the door of Spike's apartment. He slowly drags himself up off the couch, obviously annoyed to be pulled away from whatever he's watching. Another knock, louder this time.
Spike: "Keep your pants on. I'm coming."
He opens the door to find Angel standing there, looking mad as usual. Spike's a bit surprised.
Spike: "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Angel: "We need to talk."
He pushes past Spike and suspiciously looks around the apartment.
Spike: "I'm sorry, I don't remember inviting you in."
Angel: "Good for me, you don't need to."
Spike: [grumbly] "Never did have any manners."
Angel: [noticing the disheveled bed--indentations on both pillows, as if he'd been expecting it.] "Having nightmares? Trouble sleeping? Or is there something else you want to tell me?"
Spike: "Don't see that it's any of your bloody business what I do in my own bed."
Angel: "You're up to something, Spike. Don't deny it. It's gone beyond coincidence."
Spike: [smirking] "Well, a part of me has been UP to something and I'm quite happy to admit to seeing more action in the bedroom than you're ever likely to, but other than that..."
Angel: "I'm on to you. You've got someone on the inside--that's how we always end up at the same place where you can screw things up--and I've got a pretty good guess who it is."
Spike: "Oh, I doubt it."
Angel: "You think you're so clever. Well, you slipped up. Eve tumbled in this morning smelling a bit familiar."
Spike: [smirking] "Aw Angel, I'm flattered you remember my scent so well. [beat] So you think I'm shagging her? Take more than inside information to get me in bed with that scanky waif, that's for sure. Oh, sorry, you fucked her, didn't you?"
Angel: [deep sigh; defensive] "It was a spell."
Spike: [laughing] "Right. Anyway, I don't always want sleep with everyone you've slept with--get over yourself."
Angel: "So explain why she smelled like you this morning."
Spike: [shaking his head.] "I don't know. Maybe she's got a crush on me and stole one of my t-shirts. [off his look] It could happen. Honestly, she didn't smell like fucking, did she? You remember what THAT smells like. [beat] Listen, mate, you couldn't be further from the truth. [under his breath] Well, I guess technically, you could be further from it, [louder] but I'm definitely not in cahoots with the teen queen."
Just then, Angel's cell phone rings. Glaring at Spike, he begrudgingly answers it. It sounds important--he has to go.
Angel: "We're not done." [He turns and walks abruptly out the door.]
Spike: "Yeah, whatever." [after he's left.] Tsk tsk, Lindsey. Making out with the girl after all, eh?"
***
About a week later. Another hard knock on Spike's door. This time, Spike ignores it. He's sitting on the couch, looking wrecked. Another knock. Then the sound of keys in the door--it opens and Lindsey walks in. He's a bit surprised to see Spike sitting there.
Lindsey: "You're here. I've been trying to call you for days. What gives?"
Spike: [deep, gloomy voice] "Not tonight."
Lindsey: [Assuming he's talking about their extracurricular activities] "We've got a job. Things are in motion."
Spike: "No."
[He's staring intently at an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on the coffee table.]
Lindsey: [incredulous] "No? This isn't exactly negotiable. Like I said, things are in motion."
Spike: "So cancel it--whatever it is."
Lindsey: "Not an option. The lines of communication are officially closed. We have to move tonight."
Spike: "Why don't you bugger off and do it yourself for once."
Lindsey can tell it's not lazyness in his voice, or even anger. He takes a couple of steps in the door and frowns. He examines Spike's expression closely--he looks wrecked, deflated, empty.
Lindsey: [Now more sympathetic. Indicating the bottle on the table] "It's been my experience that you have to actually pour the stuff down your throat to get the desired effect. Unless there's some sort of vampire psychic drinking ability I'm unaware of."
Spike: [desolate] "Desired effect. Don't know what that is."
Lindsey: "What happened?"
Spike: [shaking his head] "Not tonight."
Lindsey: "Yeah, we've covered that already. Tell me what happened."
Spike shrugs--what would it hurt to say it out loud? Doesn't matter, anyway.
Spike: [in a weak, emotional voice] "She knows. The boy let something slip, he couldn't cover. Told her everything. He called yesterday--said he didn't know how to reach me before."
Lindsey: [guessing] "Buffy. She knows you're alive."
Spike nods, though hearing her name makes him wince.
Spike: "Two weeks ago. She's known for two weeks."
Lindsey: "And she's not here. That's rough. [beat] Tell me something. Why haven't you gone to her?"
Spike: [somewhat rhetorically] "Do you know already? You must've known that I wouldn't leave, after all the trouble you went through to bring me back. But how could you?"
Lindsey: "At first, we had the whole balance-of-the-universe/two-souled-vamps mumbo jumbo to guilt you into sticking around. Once that came full circle and you didn't leave right away, I figured there was something else and we took it from there. [beat] Tell me."
Spike: [maybe relieved to have someone to tell] "That night--at the end--just before it was my turn to burn up. For those few seconds, everything was strikingly clear for the first time in my pathetic life. She took my hand and told me she loved me. In that instant, I could see how much she wanted to mean it--I could see how every fiber of her tiny, beautiful little body wanted with such sweet, glorious desperation to mean it. But she didn't. She just...didn't. She just couldn't. Poor girl. And then it was over. I could have gone to her. She would have been with me, maybe because she wanted to, maybe out of obligation. [He has trouble getting the words out] We could be together. But after all that, after everything between us, after those few seconds, how could it be enough? There was a time when I would've gladly put it out of my mind. But things are different now. I think it would consume me--I think it would consume HER. So I didn't go."
Lindsey: [anticipating Spike's train of thought] "But if she were to come to you, maybe things would be different. Maybe she could prove you wrong."
Spike: "If. But she's not here. Not even a bloody phone call. [He winces in pain again.] Truth is, it doesn't matter. You can go to the end of the bloody earth--you can make all the right decisions and do all the right things and it still doesn't mean they'll love you. There's the rub. That's what they don't tell you in the fairy tales. It's all fuckin' bullshit. None of it matters. None of it will ever matter."
Lindsey stands there for a moment, getting pulled into Spike's melancholy. Then he shakes his head.
Lindsey: "Congratulations, Einstein. You're about three years behind your idiot grandsire. I'll give you credit, though--took him a bit longer to figure it out. Still, I don't have the time to sit around waiting for you to have a fucking epiphany. So get up off your ass and let's go."
Spike: "Leave me alone."
Lindsey: "You know, I'd like to. I'd like to leave your miserable, sorry ass to wallow in your pathetic self pity for as long as your unbeating heart desires. But, you now what? I've done my share of wallowing and I can tell you from first-hand experience that it's a WASTE OF FUCKING TIME. We've got things to do."
Spike: [through clenched teeth] "I can't. Bugger off."
Lindsey: "Sure, Ok. Hey, it's no skin off my nose if that hoard of Desog demons chew up the pee-wee hockey team over at Central High tonight. Hey, there'll be more kids to save tomorrow, right? Screw the pee-wees. Let's get drunk and cry about the blondes who have dumped us. It's all about priorities."
Spike: [annoyed] "Kids? [resigned] Bloody hell. [He slowly gets up from the couch, moving like a stiff old man] You did this? You set this up?"
Lindsey: "Not really relevant now, is it?"
Spike: "We get this over with quickly."
Lindsey: "That's my boy."
Quickie summary: They head over to the high school--they find the Desog demons hiding out in the basement, preparing to come up through the ice. Spike fights them, albeit with less enthusiasm than usual. He's starts to lose the upper hand about midway through and it's not looking good. His heart isn't in it. Lindsey, who has been looking on from the sidelines, looks more and more concerned and finally jumps in to help Spike out when he is about to be charged from behind. The two of them manage to send the Desogs running, but not before Lindsey takes a hit in the side, leaving a deep gash.
Spike: "We should get you to a hospital--you're losing a lot of blood."
Lindsey: "Nope. Wolfram and Hart have spies everywhere--these tattoos may hide me from the Senior Partners, but if anyone else catches sight of me, it's all over."
Spike helps him to the truck and drives them back to his apartment. On the way.
Spike: "Thanks."
Lindsey: "For saving your sorry ass? Feet first, just like I said."
Spike: [somewhere between a statement and a question] "But you didn't mean it when you said it the first time."
Lindsey just shrugs. They travel the rest of the way in silence. Next we see Spike helping Lindsey into the apartment. He sits him down on the couch. He's obviously in a lot of pain. Spike pulls up his blood soaked shirt to see the wound. He quickly gets up to get a towel to soak up the blood. He stops for a minute.
Lindsey: "What?"
Spike: "Sorry. All the blood--s'making me a bit dizzy."
Lindsey: [smiling] "I'm guessing not for the same reason it's making ME dizzy. [Spike returns with a towel.] You bit anyone since you got the soul?"
Spike: [about to say 'no', but then...] "Yeah. It was...[decides against explaining the FE business] Yeah." [He presses the towel to the wound.]
Lindsey: "How bad is it?"
Spike: "You'll live. You should have stitches. It's pretty deep."
Lindsey: "You got a needle and thread?"
Spike frowns, but gets up to look in a first-aid kit, he nicked from W&H. Before he brings it over, he rummages through a drawer in the kitchen and pulls out a little bag. He pours a glass of water and walks over to Lindsey.
Spike: "Take these." [Handing him a couple of pills.] "I nicked 'em from those foreign students. Tried one for laughs the other night. They'll make you feel alright."
Lindsey looks dubious at first, but then feeling his side and wincing, he takes them. While they wait for the drugs to take effect, Spike cleans up the wound a bit. He still has a mood of melancholy about him. After a few minutes.
Lindsey: [looking more relaxed] "Oof. These things are pretty powerful."
Spike: "Probably should've only taken one. Oh well. Let's move you over to the bed--it'll be easier to stitch that way." [He helps him up and they move slowly over to the bed.]
Lindsey: "Hand me my phone."
He makes a call to Eve. Gives her some story and tells her he won't be home tonight. He watches Spike thread the needle. He's feeling more and more loopy.
Spike: [before he starts stitching] "This is gonna hurt a bit."
Lindsey: "Just do it fast."
[He inhales sharply when the needle first goes in.]
Lindsey: [trying to make conversation--make this go by quicker] "So it was for her right? The soul?"
Spike: "Do we really have to talk?"
Lindsey: "Humor me. Looks like you've got another thirty or so stitches to go."
Spike: [in answer to the previous question] "Yeah."
Lindsey: "So you show up with a soul and what does she say?"
Spike: "I was a bit of a raving lunatic at the time--what could she have said?"
Lindsey: "I don't know. "Thanks. That's the most amazing thing anyone's ever done for me. That's the most amazing thing anyone's ever done for anyone?""
Spike just shakes his head, as if to imply that Lindsey just doesn't get it.
Lindsey: "Alright, so what happened when you got it together? Put the madness behind you?"
Spike: [shrugging] "Not much. I mean, she tried, but there were things..."
Lindsey: "What a bitch."
Spike: [surprised laugh] "I don't think anyone's had that reaction before." [No one has.]
Lindsey: "You've obviously been hanging around the wrong people. What you did? Never happened before--I looked it up. Believe me, it's a hell of a lot easier to sell your soul than to get it back."
Spike: "Doesn't matter. She did all she was capable of."
Lindsey: [seeming more drugged; sympathetic] "Listen. What is she, like 15? [This gets an annoyed look and a rough jab with the needle] Come on, where were you at 23? Giver her a decade to figure things out--that's a drop in the bucket to someone like you. She'll get there. Talk to me when you're rejected by someone who's 400."
This gets a bit of a smile from Spike.
Spike: "You're surprisingly sweet for a lawyer with an evil hand."
Lindsey: "I'm just feelin' groovy."
Spike finishes stitching and puts a bandage over the wound. Lindsey leans back on the pillow and looks as if he's about to fall asleep--very relaxed. Spike is putting things away.
Lindsey: [Watching Spike intently. He puts his hand tenderly on Spike's leg. In a calm, almost sad voice.] "You now, this is all going to end badly."
Spike: [resigned] "Always does. [then shrugging] Until it doesn't. [beat] You your own boss in this?"
Lindsey: "You're not suggesting..."
Spike: "Just wondering if you answer to anyone, is all."
Lindsey doesn't say anything and quickly drifts off to sleep. Spike lights a cigarette and then strips down and gets into bed next to him, sitting up against the headboard to smoke.
***
A week later, or so. Outside a bar, whose entrance is in an alley (of course). Spike and Lindsey emerge looking pleasantly drunk. They're slowly making their way to the parking lot a couple of blocks away.
Lindsey: "I can't believe I let you talk me into this. I shouldn't be out."
Spike: "Aw, come on. Loosen up. S'not like Mr. Tightass would be caught dead in a bar actually having fun. Apparently hedonism isn't part of the whole hero gig."
Lindsey: "Think I prefer your kind of hero."
Spike: [smiling slyly] "Are you flirting with me? Silly boy."
Lindsey: "Hey this 'boy' downed twice as much tequila as you and still kicked your ass at nine-ball."
Spike: "Yeah, well, you've got that bloody evil hand carrying you along."
Lindsey: "I seem to remember you mentioning a while back that your whole body is evil. Think that gives you the advantage."
Spike: "Speaking of which..."
He stops and pulls Lindsey around and against a nearby wall and moves in to kiss him. Lindsey evades the kiss and pushes him back.
Lindsey: "Not here."
Spike: [teasing, goodheartedly] "What, you afraid someone'll see you kissing a boy? Wouldn't that be a shame."
Lindsey: "Let's just get to the truck."
Spike: "Nah. This is much better. Especially now that I know you're all shy about it."
Spike playfully tries to pin him against the wall again. Lindsey resists a bit.
Lindsey: [laughing] "You're such a bastard."
Spike: [after finally pinning him] "See, I've decided you need to be punished."
Lindsey: "Why's that, then?"
Spike: "It seems Angel has it in his head that I'm shagging Eve--and you know how he got that idea? Seems Eve came into the office smelling of me. And I think we both know what THAT means."
Lindsey: [busted] "Hey, she's a very insistent girl. And she likes to cuddle. I can't help that her version of cuddling involves skin contact and writhing."
Spike: "Well, I'm still gonna wait to kiss you until that couple who're walking up the street right now get close enough to get a nice clear look."
Lindsey: "Why wait?"
Spike smiles and they start to kiss. They have nice, deep, long wet kiss. After Spike's sure they've been seen, he backs away, grinning. They go back to making their way towards the truck.
Switch perspective to a longer-distance view from above. We see Angel looking on from the top of a nearby building with a look of absolute shock. He hasn't heard what they were saying, but he saw everything.
***
At Wolfram and Hart. Angel walks toward his office, looking rather shellshocked. He mumbles, distractedly to Harmony.
Angel: "I need to...there's something...a meeting...Wesley...office...Gunn...uh...Lorne?"
Harmony: [concentrating really hard] "You alright? You look kind of pale."
Angel: "Just, uh, send them in. What I said before."
Harmony: "Sure thing, boss." [She grabs for her phone.]
Wesley is the first to arrive. Angel is sitting in his chair, frowning, scratching his head, shifting uncomfortably.
Wes: "Harmony said you were calling a meeting?"
Angel: "Yeah, uh. There's a bit of a...situation. Something we should probably discuss."
Wes: [based on Angel's level of agitation, he's concerned] "What is it?"
Angel: [talking in a slow/weird/stuttering style] "I just saw something. Something that might be of concern. [beat] To us."
Wes: [trying to be patient] "Okay. Are you going to tell me what it is?"
Angel: [all he can manage to say] "Lindsey."
Wes: "As in ex-Wolfram and Hart employee, bane-of-our-previous-existence Lindsey?"
Angel: "That's him."
Wes: "What about him?"
Angel: "I saw him."
Wes: "He's back in town?"
Angel: "Uh, yeah. He was...uh...with Spike."
Gunn walks in.
Gunn: "Who was with Spike?"
Wes: "Lindsey McDonald."
Gunn: "He's back in town? [Nod from Wesley] That can't be good."
Wes: "You say you saw him with Spike. You think they're plotting together?"
Angel: [still looking uncomfortable] "Maybe. They were..." [He can't finish. After waiting a moment for him to, the others jump in.]
Gunn: "Fighting?" [head shake from Angel]
Wes: "Plotting the demise of the company?" [head shake from Angel]
Gunn: "Stealing files from the company vault?"
Wes: [based on Angel's level of freakiness] "This doesn't have anything to do with the Shanshu prophesy?"
Gunn: "They wouldn't be trying to resurrect Darla again, would they?"
Angel: [in his little-boy confused voice] "No. [beat] They were...kissing."
Wes & Gunn together: "What?"
Angel: "They were kissing. [beat] On the lips."
Gunn: "Huh. Didn't see that one coming."
Lorne comes breezing through the door.
Lorne: "Didn't see what one coming, my handsome-tower-of-law? Please say Johnnie Depp's got himself into some big bad, other-wordly trouble and needs our help."
Wes: "Lindsey McDonald is back in town."
Lorne: [excited] "Almost as good. Gosh, that boy could croon. Melt a heart of stone with that cowboy voice of his. Ah, how I missed his blue eyes, his tight little...musical numbers. Oh, but I suppose he's on the wrong side of righteous, isn't he?"
Wes: "He's never been terribly fond of Angel, that's for sure."
Gunn: "I'd say he's three big steps to the left of 'fond', heading in the direction of pathological hatred."
Wes: "And Spike's not exactly your best friend either."
Lorne: "I missed the Spike connection--care to fill me in?"
Gunn: "Angel, you want to tell him?"
Angel: "Don't make me say it again."
Lorne: "Say what, pumpkin?"
Wes: "It would appear...it seems...the two of them might be..."
Gunn: "Angel saw them making out."
Lorne: "What's that? Must have that damn stage make-up clogging my ears again--It's a devil to clean off."
Gunn: "Angel saw Spike and Lindsey making out."
Lorne: [gulp] "As in lips touching, making out? Bodies pressed together, hands wandering, tongues-mingling making out?"
Angel: "Something like that."
Lorne: [suddenly looking flustered] "Oh goodness. Oh goodness me. There's just a whole lot of goodnes flying around. Then again, I guess goodness's got nothin' to do with it. [beat] Is it hot in here?" [He picks up his phone and calls his PA--"Yeah, bring me a gin and tonic stat. With a splash of grenadine. And a cold towel."]
Wes: "So, what do you think it means?"
Angel: [annoyed] "I don't know. I'd rather not think about it, honestly. But it can't be good."
Lorne: [under his breath] "I'm happy to handle the thinking, honey."
Gunn: "We should probably call him on it, don't you think?"
Angel: [pressing the intercom] "Harmony, could you come in here for a minute."
[She appears in the doorway, just as Lorne's assistant arrives with his drink and towel. He takes it, downs it and asks for another.]
Harmony: "Was I supposed to call Fred, too? [defensive] You didn't mention her specifically and I'm a vampire, not a psychic. Though I did take one of those astrology courses once, and..."
Angel: "Get in touch with Spike and ask him to come in."
Harmony: "I am so NOT calling Spike. I've got pride. If he wants to see me, he can call me himself."
Angel: "He's not coming to see you, he's coming to see US. Call him."
Lorne: [under his breath, dreamy] "I'll bet he's coming..." [fanning himself with his hand]
Harmony: "Fine. But do you mind if I go home and change first? This isn't my best color."
Angel: "Call him NOW."
Fred comes into the room.
Fred: "What's all the commotion?"
Gunn: "Seems your boy, Spike, is cavorting with the enemy."
Fred: "What?"
Wes: "Angel saw Spike and Lindsey, an old adversary, in a lip-lock tonight."
Harmony, hearing this on her way out, stops dead.
Harmony: [turning in disbelief, upset, whiney] "Spike's got a girlfriend? I thought he was still pining for that slayer bitca."
Lorne: "Wrong sex, kitten. Though this does make for an interesting twist in the whole slayer triangle. [to himself] I'm definitely going to have to re-think the cast. Hm, maybe bring in Ewan McGregor--he's doen bi before. hmmm.mmm. I'd better write that down."
Harmony: "Duh, I think I KNOW what sex Spike is--we were like, going steady once--believe me, he's got ALL the right parts."
Gunn: "Lindsey's a guy."
Harmony: "NO WAY. [suddenly getting skeptical] Did you guys find my diary? 'Cause if you guys are just messing with me because I had a little fantasy, which is PERFECTLY natural, by the way..."
Wes: [to Angel] "You ARE absolutely certain of what you saw?"
Angel: "Believe me, the image is burned forever-more into my brain."
Harmony: "He was really kissing a boy? [suddenly looking aroused] Is this Lindsey as cute as Spike?"
Lorne, Angel and Gunn respond at the same time.
Angel: [definitive] "No." Lorne: "You bet your sweet muffin, he is." Gunn: "I'd say they're comparable."
Lorne: "Ah, to be a fly on that wall. There could be serious combustion issues, I'm tellin' ya."
Angel: "Just because he plays guitar and can carry a tune..."
Harmony: [gasping as she brings her hand to her mouth] "He plays guitar?!?!?"
Glare from Angel.
Harmony: "If you'll excuse me, I need to visit the little girl's room."
Lorne: "I'm right behind you, lady." [He gets up to follow her]
Angel: "Call him."
Harmony: [on her way out] "Sure thing, boss. Just as soon as I'm done."
***
Sometime later, Spike arrives at W&H. He's directed into the office by Harmony, who is grinning suspiciously. Once he's inside and the door is closed...
Spike: "What's with her? [seeing everyone--Lorne is back, too] The gang's all here. Must be serious."
Angel: "You're drunk."
Spike: "Only a bit. [Thinking about why he might have been called in.] This isn't about Eve again, is it? I'm telling you, there's nothing going on with me and matchstick girl, no matter what your perverted mind wants to imagine."
Angel: "Oh, it's not about Eve."
Spike: "Good."
Angel: "I saw you tonight."
Spike: "Saw me what, Lurch? Having a laugh?"
Angel: "I saw you with a certain ex-employee of this very firm--employed to be a pain in my ass back when it was evil."
Spike: "Oh, back when it WAS evil. [sideways eye roll] Don't know what you're talking about, mate."
Angel: "I SAW you..." [gives the expectant--you-know-what-I'm-talking-about stare.]
Spike: "Come on, Peaches. You can say it. You're a big boy."
Angel: "Don't play around, Spike."
Spike: "So you saw me havin' a bit of fun with a bloke. Don't know what the big deal is. I mean, it's not like YOU'VE never..."
Angel: "That's not the point."
[aside: Lorne, looking discombobulated, walks over to the liquor cabinet and pours himself a big glass of scotch.]
Spike: "And the point would be...???"
Angel: "He's dangerous. He and I have a bit of a history."
Spike: "Why don't I find that surprising? You definitely have a knack for pissing people off."
Angel: "What do you know about him?"
Spike: [wanting to make Angel as uncomfortable as possible] "We don't talk much. You remember how it is--straight to business."
Wesley: "Where did you meet?"
Spike: "A strip club. [beat] I still don't see why who I decide to fuck is any of your bloody business."
Angel: "Stop stalling. You're in on it, aren't you? He's your inside link. [more threatening posture] What's your game?"
Spike: "There's no game. We're just having a bit of fun, is all. Maybe he gives me some information from time to time--hooks me up with people who need my help. No harm in that. You don't seem to be getting the job done lately anyway."
Angel: "He's using you to get to me."
Spike: [smirk] "Maybe it's not such a bad way to be used."
Gunn: "Listen, even if we take your word that you don't know what he's up to, we can be damn sure he's up to something. You ready to cooperate with us?"
Spike: "And, what would be my motivation exactly?"
Gunn: "He's evil. Supposedly you're not. You like to play the hero? Hero's don't need any more motivation than that."
Angel: "Plus if you don't help us out, I will personally see to it that we make your life a living hell. Any questions?"
Spike: [shaking his head, under his breath] "This is the way it's going to be. Always."
Angel: "What was that?"
Spike: "What do you want me to do?"
Wes: "First, tell us all you know."
Gunn: "Then you set up a meet and we'll bring him in."
**
A while later, Spike excuses himself to have a smoke. He finds Eve.
Spike: "Give me your cell phone."
Eve: "What? No."
Spike: "Give it to me."
Eve: "I'm calling security."
Spike: "If you give a shit about your boyfriend, you'll hand it over NOW."
Eve: [surprised] "Boyfriend? I..."
Spike just gives her a look that changes her mind. She hands it to him. He takes it and leaves the room immediately. She starts to object, but he's gone in an instant.
Spike: [into the phone.] "It's me. They know. They're working on a way to get rid of your smoke screen. Now's the time to kick it up or get out of town. [beat] Guess this is it ending badly."
He hangs up and tosses the phone back in Eve's office on his way past. It's ringing. A few minutes later, the general evacuation alarm goes off and people start to leave. Spike takes the opportunity to slip out. Although he knows he wouldn't actually help Lindsey with whatever it turns out his plan is, he doesn't really want to have to fight him either. In fact, he'd rather not know what the plan even is--he prefers to imagine that it wasn't so bad as the other's think. He figures the rest of them can handle it, whatever it is. They've got the upper hand now anyway. So he heads out, a bit sad that their little illusion is over. Sadder still that he'll probably end up working with Angel and the others, because he doesn't have any resources of his own. And there'll be more threats and more distrust. More of the same and no one to drink beers with and watch football. But this is the way it is. This is the life he's got to live to be THAT kind of hero. It was fun game they were playing, but it was just a game. All these thoughts are running through his head as he walks out into the street in front of Wolfram and Hart and almost gets run over. A truck screeches to a halt in front of him. He looks up to see Lindsey in the driver's seat.
Lindsey: "Smoke'll be gone in a minute and this'll be a very bad place for me to be. Got some time to pass?"
Spike: [slight smile] "A decade or so, give or take."
Lindsey: "Get in. I'm kind of in a hurry."
Spike climbs in and they screech away in the truck. They sit in silence for a bit, until they're out of the city. I imagine them both sitting there, a bit awkward--a bit floored by what they've just done by skipping town together. It all happened so fast. Like the last scene of the Graduate, where they're sitting in the back of the bus with that "Oh shit, what did we just do/what do we do now?" look. Once they're speeding along on the highway.
Spike: "So, do we have a plan?"
Lindsey: "There's no plan."
Spike: "Didn't think so. Just making sure."
Lindsey: "Thought maybe we'd head east."
Spike: "We're staring in L.A.--there's not really another option."
Lindsey: "Always a smartass."
Spike: "'till the cold, dark end."
Another longish pause.
Spike: "So you know, this is kinda fucked up."
Lindsey: "Don't YOU start now."
And they drive off into the night....
THE END.