Divine Retribution

Spike knew there was someone in his crypt before he was even fully awake. Cautiously, he didn't move but sniffed silently. Not human, not demon, but very familiar. When he realized who it was, he couldn't hide a grimace of distaste and discomfort. He should have guessed. "Go away."

“No, I don't think I will." Angel said, standing over him grimly, "We need to talk."

“Oh, god, you’re incredible." Spike muttered in anger. "You come in here, wake me up, then act like you’re going to bloody break up with me."

“Maybe just break you up." Angel replied pleasantly, sitting down on the edge of Spike's tomb. The younger vampire scrambled off, positioning himself on the other side of the room, looking at his grandsire warily.

“Sure.” Spike sneered, "You're too much of a good guy to do that." Still, he wasn't too sure; had Angel finally come to get his revenge? "What do you really want?"

“Can’t a man come and visit his Childe every now and then?"

“Not after two years, I don't think so." Spike glared at him. "If this is about that time in L.A., don't you think you're a bit late? Not to mention obsessive, coming all the way here just to beat me up?"

“Don’t flatter yourself." Angel looked at him coldly. "I'm here for Buffy. Her mother died.”

“Yeah, I know." Spike's anger faded slightly, "That's…Nice of you. To come and all. She's taking it hard.” His face hardened again, "And you just couldn't keep yourself from bothering me?"

“Like I said, we need to talk." Angel looked his Childe in the eyes, "A good, long talk."

“Well, I don't feel like talking. Get the hell out of here, Angelus." Spike turned away, picking up a hairbrush and fixing his hair as well as he could without using a mirror. Angel rose and spun him around with one hand on his shoulder. "The time for talking is over.” Even in a disadvantaged position, Spike couldn't resist getting one dig in, "If you wanted to talk, you'd have done it back in L.A.”

“This isn't about then." Angel shook his head in frustration.

“What, you’ve forgiven and forgotten?" Spike asked, “How very noble of you."

“It was worth it. You didn't get the ring, after all." Angel shrugged. "Marcus didn't live long enough to enjoy it." He nearly smiled. Spike glared at him furiously.

“So help me, if you say 'I told you so', I'll kill you." He warned.

“Oh really? Do you really think you can?" Angel smiled patronizingly, “I told you so."

The ensuing fight was short and ugly. Spike lunged at Angel, punching and kicking blindly. Angel had always been the stronger and faster one. Spike, being smaller and more agile, might have given him a short run for his money, and being a dirty fighter, managed to get some good punches in, but the outcome was still pretty much predictable. Angel didn't mind. He figured Spike needed the release. Also, he had neither forgiven nor forgotten that day in L.A. two years earlier. About three minutes later he was sitting on Spike's chest, pinning his shoulders to the floor.

“Nice to see you haven't gone rusty from lack of practice,” He said lightly, "Only one hears you're practicing against vampires and demons now." Spike turned his face away, breathing hard.

“Not you too. You fight demons all the time." He responded, and added "Poof" under his breath. “Where does 'one' hear these things, then?"

“Let’s see…” Angel showed no intention of letting Spike up, and the younger vampire was waiting silently for his hold to weaken for a moment. It didn't, and he waited, biding his time. "It started last year, when I came for a little visit at thanksgiving.”

“I remember that. Buffy was seriously pissed off." Spike nodded.

“So, I saw you sitting with them. Tied up, of course, but still, I wondered why they hadn't killed you." Angel continued, ignoring Spike's flush of shame and anger at the memory of last year’s embarrassment. “When I got back home, I called Willow and asked what was up with that. She explained the chip situation, and that you’d come to them for help. I figured they were safe, and you were safe, because they wouldn’t kill a harmless creature.” The vice-grip on Spike’s shoulders slackened for a moment, but tightened again before he could try to escape. He struggled for a second, then relaxed, waiting again. “I’m not letting you up, so don’t try,” Angel warned him. “Next time I was here, I didn’t think you’d want to see me all that much, so I didn’t visit. I was too busy hitting Buffy’s boyfriend.”

“Yeah, and good for you, mate.” Spike said happily. “Stupid wanker’s gone now. Went to find himself in Africa, or something.” Angel’s hands moved to his neck, squeezing hard.

“Shut. Up.” The older vampire gritted out. He took a moment to calm down, then went on. “Now, all this time, Willow and Cordelia have their little phone-conversation once a week, and we get info updates on all of you. Some of them are, for example, 'All of us nearly died yesterday because Spike set us up’, or, ‘Did you know Buffy had a sister?'. The one right before 'Buffy's mom died, you might want to come’ was that there was a rumor someone had a crush on the Slayer." His voice was cold, the words lashing out, "So I just had to come and see for myself.”

Spike closed his eyes and groaned. "I'm not in the mood to talk about that. Especially not with you, Angelus.”

“Don’t call me that." Angel commanded coldly. He paused, "It's true, then?”

“What does it matter?" Spike did his best to shrug, which was kind of difficult to do while lying on the floor. He’d known this moment would come, but why so soon?

“Is it?" Angel barked, shaking him.

“What if it is?" Spike nearly grinned at the look of open horror on his grandsire's face. Then Angel backhanded him, and all thoughts of smiling fled with the stinging pain. He tasted blood and enjoyed the flavor for a moment, then looked at Angel defiantly. "Nothing you can do about it, mate."

“I could kill you, 'mate'.” Angel snarled at him.

“Go ahead. I'd welcome it. Kill me if you want. It's more than she’ll do, that's for sure." Spike replied bitterly. He used Angel's shock to his advantage, tossing him off and rising quickly. "Now that you know, get the hell out of my house."

“Oh no. I don't think we've quite exhausted the subject; not yet. We have much to discuss."

“Fine.” Spike decided to distract Angel for as long as he could, "How was Dru the last time you saw her, by the way?" He asked casually.

“Absolutely glowing, why?" Angel made no effort to deny what he knew Spike already knew.

“You really did it, didn't you?" Spike asked incredulously, “You really set her on fire?"

“She annoyed me." Angel shrugged. Spike's eyes narrowed, and he stared at Angel hard.

“You’ve still got your soul…So what happened to make you turn mean suddenly? Haven’t had any in too long?" He leered at him.

“I got tired of your little friend Drusilla. She survived.”

“I know. She came here.” Spike said flatly. “Then she left again.”

“With her tail between her legs, I know. Smooth moves there, by the way.” Angel smirked. It looked very odd on his normally somber face.

“Oh, shuddup.” Spike replied. “You wouldn't have done it better."

“I wouldn't have gotten myself into that situation.” Angel stated. "Let's get back to the subject here, what do you think you're doing with Buffy?"

“Absolutely nothing, granddaddy dearest. Nothing at al."

“Like hell." Angel advanced, slamming Spike against a wall in a move to fast to follow. "Whatever ideas you have, lose them. Fast."

“Whatever ideas I have," Spike replied tiredly, "will remain my fantasies forever, probably."

“At least you're aware of the truth. You're pathetic, getting a crush on a Slayer."

“You’re one to talk! And it's not a 'crush'. I love her." He explained, "I don't know why or how, but I do.” A small voice in his head told him that sharing his feelings for Buffy with Angel was practically suicidal, but he was that anyway. "Still, I'm not good at lying to myself. She’ll never feel the same way about me. I'm willing to satisfy myself with an extended lease on unlife, for now."

“Your lease could unexpectedly end if you say the wrong thing." Angel threatened.

“I know. I don't care. Stop talking and just do it already.” Spike looked at the older vampire desperately, “You know what it's like. Something that just can't be."

“Don’t you dare compare what Buffy and I have to your sick little perversions, boy.”

“Don’t you mean 'had'?" Spike asked, aware that it might bring another dose of nastiness. Sure enough, Angel shook him again, hard. "Well, she's definitely moved on, after you pushed her away, that is. You two are doomed to circle each other forever, while I sit on the sidelines and laugh. Until she dies, at least.” He said the last words hesitantly, reminding them both of the unpleasant reality.

“Something tells me you haven’t been doing too much laughing in the past weeks, boy.” Angel said, gentle suddenly, “And Willow says you’ve been helpful. Watching out for Dawn and such. That’s nice. Almost…” An edge sneaked into his voice, “as if you have a soul.”

“I don’t.” Spike grumbled, “Don’t worry, you’re still the only souled vamp in the world. Sucks to be you, if you ask me.”

“Then why? Only to win Buffy’s favor? It won’t work, you know.”

“A guy can hope. Besides, I like Dawn. She’s a sweet girl, and I can say that without even tasting. I was bored sitting in my crypt all day, and they needed help. They’re just kids.”

“Yes, they are. They don’t need a bad influence like you around.” Angel said.

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from Mr. ‘Shag-The-Slayer-And-Kill-Everyone’. I bet you were a worse influence that I’ll ever be.” Spike almost smiled, but just talking about Buffy made him feel conflicted. Vampires weren’t supposed to feel those things about people. “How did you deal with it?”

“With what?”

“Falling for a girl who was supposed to kill you.”

“I didn’t fall for her. She fell for me. That’s the one major difference between us, boy, she loves me back, and since I had a soul, she didn’t have to kill me. It’s a whole lot easier to deal with a mutual affection.”

“You know something, you’re a real bastard sometimes.” Spike growled. “Fine, you came, you threatened, you rubbed my face in it, now leave.”

“I’m not done yet.” Angel said stubbornly.

“Fuck you, Angelus.” Spike said, “I really, really hate you.”

“Great. I’m glad to know it’s mutual.” Angel replied neutrally. “Hate me if you want, but I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why.”

“Why what?”

“Why do you love her?” Angel had to make an effort to say the words without choking on them.

“You need to ask?” Spike laughed, a short, cynical chuckle, “You of all people should know why. Also, I can’t explain it. I have no idea. The Powers That Be are having a little joke at my expense, the point of which only they know.”

“I should have known. You’ve always had this thing for women you can’t have.”

“Yeah, and I usually ended up killing them. I would’ve done the same thing to Buffy, if I didn’t have this bloody chip thing.” Spike shrugged. “I really don’t know why, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“You could stop.” Angel suggested.

“Stop loving her? Just like that? Not really, I can’t. It’s not that easy, you know. It’s not something I can control.” Spike sat down and buried his head in his hands. He looked up to see Angel smiling. “What’s so funny, mate?” He asked.

“Buffy said something very similar to me a while ago, when I told her to stop loving me and move on. I guess you’re both right. But you still won’t ever get her. Never.”

“I. Understand. That.” Spike said very slowly, “Now if you mention that ever again, I’ll have to try and hit you again.”

“She’s just a child.” Angel argued.

“You’re a lot older that I am, old man, and you still went after her like a morbid bunny in heat. I was just a child when you killed me.”

“Hey, that wasn’t me. Drusilla’s responsible for you, in every way.” Angel put his hands up in defense, “And you were at least twenty.”

“Just short of it.” Spike admitted, “But that’s besides the point. The point is, I don’t need your permission to try.”

“Just so you know, if it were up to me, you’d get her over my twice-dead body.” Angel repeated. Spike didn’t even feel his hand clench and his arm move until his fist collided, in quick succession, with Angel’s face and with the wall of the crypt-solid marble. Both vampires grunted in pain, the stared at each other in silence as Angel wiped blood off his face, and Spike shook his hand.

“I think,” Spike said after a while, “I just broke a few fingers.”

“I think,” Angel replied, “That you also just broke my nose.”

“You’ll heal."

“So will you."

The two stared at each other quietly. Afterwards, neither one could say who started it, but suddenly they were both sitting on the floor, laughing like madmen. After at least five minutes, Angel regained the needed level of concentration to reset his nose. He gritted his teeth and hissed in pain, but felt it start to mend immediately. Spike looked at him, worried. Angel reached and ruffled the younger vampire’s blond hair with one hand. “I’ll be fine, William.” Spike ducked away, frowning.

“You haven’t called me that in years. Why now?” He asked.

“It felt right..” Angel shrugged in response. “I really feel sorry for you. She’s going to break your heart, you know.”

“Oh, she’s done that already. Several times. And I don’t need your fucking pity.” Spike slumped against the wall, “You can gloat all you want, though. I don’t care anymore.”

“No. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” Angel looked at him earnestly, almost…Lovingly? No, Spike thought, no way. Angel’s next words nearly made him change his mind. “You’re still my favorite Childe, you know, torture and portals to hell aside. We’re still connected.”

Spike drew away warily, unsure. The way he saw it, Angel might still change his mind and decide to take revenge. “I thought you just said I was all Dru’s.” He said sullenly, “Not one bit yours.”

“Your creation, William, not your vampire persona.”

“That’s all mine, you stupid git.” Spike glared at him. There was no way he was going to let Angel take credit for Spike being what he was.

“I taught you, boy. You’d never have turned out so well on your own. There is quite a bit of the true you in the mix, yes, but I was the fire that boiled the pot.” The older vampire said that without pride, just stating the facts as he saw them.

“You’re very poetic today. Most poofy of you.” Spike glared at him.

“And you’re very crabby and nasty. Angel replied, “You’re not too old to be punished by your Sire, you know.”

“Don’t go there, Angelus. Just don’t. We can’t have the good old days back, and if you even try I’m going to fight back.” Spike held Angel’s eyes steadily, “I’m not a fledgling anymore, and I’m not your Childe any more than I ever was.”

“You’ll always be my Childe, boy.” Angel reached for him again, but Spike flinched away from his touch. “And right now, you need someone to talk to.”

“Well, it certainly ain’t gonna be you, old man. I’m not stupid. Talking to you about Buffy is like…Like talking about Cordelia around Xander, or saying something about Giles’ cute girlfriend-the one you killed. I don’t have that big a deathwish.” Spike shook his head. “Just go away and leave me alone. Please.”

“Nope.” Angel shook his head and smiled slightly, and slid closer to Spike on the floor. Bending the younger vampire’s head with one hand, he bit his neck lightly. Spike shuddered with something between disgust and pleasure, but didn’t m. He knew his Sire’s spontaneous love bites could turn painful in the blink of an eye.

“Stop. We can't." He said quietly, "Leave me alone."

“Oh, come on," Angel taunted, “You’re enjoying it, just like you always do."

“I do not." Spike denied forcefully, but relented after an unbelieving glare from Angel. "Okay, maybe I enjoy it a little, but not now. Not like this. This is the last thing I need right now." He tried to move away, but Angel followed, "I said hands off, you wanker!" He shouted, rising up from the floor, glowering.

“I wouldn’t need to wank if you’d just do the thing you know you want to do." Angel said reasonably, standing up as well.

“Don’t think I don't know what yer trying to do, you git." Spike growled.

“Really? And what, William, am I trying to do?" Angel asked in amusement.

“You’re trying to remind me that you'll always be in control, always first in Buffy's mind and heart…” Spike’s voice cracked slightly, "That you're still in charge of me. Of both of us."

“Has it occurred to you that I might just miss your company?" Angel asked, hurt.

“Not really. You haven’t missed it for over a century. Why would you want to hang around a monster with your holier-than-thou attitude, if not to remind me that you'll always be better than me. You'll always have everything I don't." Spike really wanted a drink, but found that movement was difficult. He didn't want to break the moment, and told himself he could get that drink later. He went back to staring at Angel in anger and hatred.

“Pity party, table of one." Angel rolled his eyes, "Table of one, yes? I'm not joining you. You want to feel sorry for yourself, go ahead. I just came to warn you that if you ever hurt Buffy…”

“I can't." Spike tapped his head, "Remember?”

“You can still hurt her feelings, or hire others to do it for you." Angel replied coldly, "I know you, William, you’re very creative. If I hear that Buffy’s hurt in any way, and I can connect it to you, however indirectly, then favored Childe or not, I’ll cut you into tiny pieces, soak them in holy water, and hang them outside in the sun to dry." He threatened. Spike smirked at him.

“Now who's being creative?" His face fell. "Don't worry. I'd rather die than hurt Buffy. Really."

Angel shook his head, looking at him, "You really have it bad, boy. Go ahead and try. If Buffy accepts you, she probably deserves you."

“Oh, so if Buffy ever develops feelings for me, that would make her less worthy in your eyes?” Spike spat angrily, "You're a fucking hypocrite."

“Maybe I am. I just wanted you to know that you can try, for all I care. If I know Buffy, you really have a snowball's chance in hell of succeeding."

“Fuck you. Don't make me hit you again.” It was Spike's turn to threaten. "You threatened me, warned me off, it didn't work. Now get out."

“Can’t. It’s nearly noon, and I left my trusty umbrella in the car. I think I'm stuck here until tonight." Angel smiled seductively, “I can think of several nice ways to pass the time…”

“No!” Spike nearly screamed at him. "You can't come here, threaten me, hit me and then expect me to just forgive and forget. Get out and I hope you burn!”

“You did the same to me last year. This is no different, except that you hurt me physically and I just hurt your ego. You need the release.” Angel moved faster than was humanly possible again, trapping Spike in an embrace he couldn’t, didn’t want to, escape. “Come on…” He whispered against his Childe’s lips.

“I really hate you, Angelus. Fuck you.” Spike sank into the kiss.

“No,” Angel whispered, “Fuck you.”

Continued