Relevance of Spike
Part 11
What a shit week.
This was what it felt like
to loved? It left Spike alternatively high, low and downright confused. Not
strictly speaking a Harlequin or Mills & Boon kind of bloke, he still knew the
way it was supposed to happen….
Fall in love. Bloke loves
you back.
Bam! Explosions and
fireworks.
Asks you to move in to his
enormous penthouse, buys you loads of thing to keep you happy, lots of blood
and sex, obviously.
The stories appeared to
gloss over some crucial elements, such as the part where he tells you exactly
why he’s always hated you and then skanks off with a fucking werewolf.
Angel’s moment of post
coital honesty had hit Spike like a slug to the guts and ever since, he’d been
waiting for the follow-up blow, the knock-out punch that would send him reeling
into oblivion. Every word that Angel spoke was pulled apart and analysed to see
if it had other meanings. Such as goodbye.
Not that he doubted Angel
genuinely felt something for him, but he’d noticed that others seemed to love
differently to him. They could just walk away, whereas he became kind of
hooked.
In Spike’s opinion, it had
all started when Angel got hit with a whammy and turned into a puppet.
If anyone had asked Angel,
he would have explained that the whole thing coalesced from a chance remark
that Gunn passed regarding two such powerful and charismatic figures heading
the Company.
“It’s lucky that you two
manage to present a united front, else we’d be looking at World War Three.”
The vampires froze, fleeting
frowns at the thought that details of their plans may have emerged, they looked
at Gunn in askance.
“You must have noticed that
Wolfram & Hart is being split in two, right?”
Wesley nodded, “Every employee
with a grievance against you is questioning whether the right vampire has been
chosen to head the Company.”
Angel’s frown deepened.
Gunn mistook its cause and
attempted to reassure
“Hey. Not that they dislike
you,” he lied and looked around for support.
“Absolutely not.” Lorne
ploughed in. “True, some would love nothing more than to pull out your guts,
twist them around a stick like pretty, pink candyfloss and eat them for
breakfast…. Uh, not really helping here, am I?”
Angel had been thinking
through the implications of Gunn’s comment and merely nodded at Lorne without
really hearing. Then the remark registered; a quick rewind of the conversation…
“Huh?”
“Well speaking frankly, and
just as an aside I look better with this handsome noggin attached to my neck,
you’re not winning any popularity contests, Peachypie. Whereas Spike….”
He gave a smile that could
easily be mistaken for a grimace.
“Whereas Spike, what?” Angel
queried.
“I’m popular, Mate,” Spike
clarified, albeit with a slight lilt in his tone as though not quite believing
it himself.
“Huh?” he asked again.
“Pop-u-lar,” Spike
enunciated clearly, “Like what you’re not.”
“I think it’s just because
Spike hasn’t killed anyone. Yet,” Gunn clarified.
Wesley nodded his agreement and
added, “Although some see this as a weakness.”
“A few killings demonstrate
strength and gets respect.” The others looked at Gunn and he shrugged. “Just
the way it works.”
“Hey, I can kill. Volunteers
step right on up…”
He went into game face. Fred
giggled and the others ignored him completely. Spike shook it off with a sigh,
people seemed to forget, scary vampire here.
He also caught the
implications. If his strength and ability was being questioned by the Wolfram
& Hart drones, then it would also be a bone of contention for Black Thorn
members.
“So you’re saying that
people have a friendly rivalry, but if we became enemies it would escalate?”
Angel asked. He had also figured out that the Company seemed a fair reflection
of the Circle they were attempting to divide.
“Luckily you two are getting
along.”
“Yeah, lucky…” Angel agreed,
catching Spike’s eye.
They needed to fall out.
Publicly and violently.
Spike nodded.
Unfortunately, for the first
time in their lives they realised that there was nothing that they particularly
wanted to argue about. Spike pouted and Angel raised his brows in amusement at
the irony.
However, their dilemma was
easily rectified when Angel turned into a grumpy, belligerent puppet.
Uh
huh, a frigging puppet! And how ironic is that? Who says the Powers don’t have
a sense of humour? Twisted and warped, yeah, but kind of humorous if you looked
sideways and squinted.
Strangely, Angel never
really got the joke. All his other personality traits got exaggerated, but his sense
of humour, pooft! Gone. Maybe the others didn’t really notice, but Spike did.
Frankly, his Sire turned into an evil little bugger, with a fucking punch that
just wasn’t right for a squishy, overstuffed vampire….
After all, Spike’s reaction
had been more than natural. Who wouldn’t have fallen around laughing if their
lover had turned into a puppet? Maybe he shouldn’t have asked if he had a
little stuffed todger to match… especially as Puppet!Angel’s nose had come away
in his hand during the ensuing fight. It made a man think…. Spike tactfully
refrained from teasing about that part of his anatomy. A guy needs some
dignity, after all, even if he is a puppet.
He still had his cute
moments too. In fact, he became incredibly cuddly. Well, ok. Horny. Somehow,
having erotic thoughts about a little felt man with a removable penis was too
much even for Spike’s fertile imagination. He’d played on the excuse of the
curse, before telling him frankly that he could never fancy a puppet.
Dark brows had pulled together
and Puppet!Angel had glowered angrily. Then it had happened. The business with
the werewolf.
Spike had watched in
disbelief. Ok, Angel was a little pissed because Spike didn’t want to get it on
with a little puppet guy, but was that any reason to start making those
frigging idiotic mooneyes at Werebitch? Served him sodding right that he got
the stuffing torn from him.
When Angel finally returned
to normal Spike had immediately gone to him, demanding explanations, but
wanting reassurance. He reflected afterward that maybe he should have left
Angel to readjust to being flesh and blood and get over the humiliation of
being Puppet!Angel. Apparently everything was his fault, if he’d been more
supportive….
Spike had been speechless.
It was at least a full five seconds before he had found his voice again.
“What! I’ve been Mr Fucking
Supportive Guy!”
“Really? I must have blinked
and missed it.”
“Did I say single word to
you about your detachable body pieces? No, I bloody didn’t! Did I comment on
you and the fleabag?”
“If you mean Nina, then yes,
you did!” Angel replied furiously. “You pulled my nose off and told her that I
fell apart during sex!”
Spike tried to hide his
grin. That had been a bloody masterstroke. The look on her face had been
indescribable.
“Yeah… but I was
supportive. I didn’t lose me temper or
take the piss, just satisfactorily sorted out the situation.”
“Satisfactorily…! She
laughed so hard she became hysterical!”
“I know. I thought that was real
shit of her, bit of sympathy might not have gone amiss. Just her true character
coming through... think you had a lucky escape there, Luv.”
“Escape? There was nothing
to escape from!” Angel denied angrily.
Spike had tried shrugging it
off, but his temper started to rise in response. He raised his eyebrows.
“You think I didn’t know
about your intimate little moments? It was fucking embarrassing the way you two
behaved around each other!”
And suddenly Spike was on
the attack and Angel was forced into defensive manoeuvring.
“I couldn’t handle anything.
There was no middle ground, everything I felt was extreme. Love, hate,
affection, anger…”
“Horniness?”
“Yeah....”
“You wanted to shag, I
backed off, so you thought Dog Breath would do instead.”
“No! Anyway, I wasn’t
myself!” Angel protested angrily.
“Bitching, fighting and
rolling over for some little blonde bint to walk over? Yeah, hardly recognised
you.” The sneer in his voice hid the hurt that had been growing inside like a
dark thunder cloud.
Spike realised that this
conversation should have been left for a while and not just for Angel’s sake.
He was too pissed off to think clearly. Perhaps he should be more
understanding? After all, this was the way things were between them, Angel kept
his balance by occasionally losing it with Spike. Which would be ok, he’d have
been right there, soaking it up and punching it back, but he had deep-set
insecurities regarding Angel and little blonde girls.
Angel felt satisfied.
This was just the kind of
rift they needed and he was pleased how well Spike had caught on and responded.
It was really kind of fun to be arguing with him again.
“Was it my fault Nina was
attracted to me and I’m too much of a klutz to deal with it properly?”
“This might sound like a bloody
stupid idea but you could have just said that you loved someone else,” Spike
suggested.
“Puppet anger? Kinda uncontrollable. And Jeez,
you could have been more supportive. Just because I had a puppet body didn’t
mean I didn’t still have needs!”
Actually, that was
surprisingly true and he was ashamed to admit that his explosion of anger had
been genuine at the time, so when Nina propositioned him, his cotton-wool brain
had been thick with ideas of revenge, maybe using her to make Spike jealous.
It had all backfired badly.
Made worse because now that he was flesh, he could appreciate Spike’s point of
view regarding the practicalities of making love to little puppet men.
Especially one that probably did fall apart during sex.
His immediate reaction had
been humiliation and guilt, but had then realised that this was just the
opportunity they had been looking for; it could be used to create the conflict
they needed for their master plan. He was sure this would be uppermost in
Spike’s mind, too. Anyway, the stress and upset of becoming a puppet had Angel
desperately reaching for the reassurance of old patterns and familiar rituals,
releasing it all on Spike was… comforting.
“I was a puppet! Jeez, why
can’t you be more understanding? You’re so fucking insensitive and
self-centred. That’s one thing I could never stand about you Spike…” he ranted.
Maybe this was true and
maybe not, but at some point Spike had stopped shouting, stepped back and
listened, a look in his eyes that Angel couldn’t decipher, and then he had
walked away.
Angel stared after him,
thinking that he was over-egging the anger a little. It wasn’t unknown for
Spike to walk away from a situation, but the silence beforehand? Spike had
never stopped talking to him. Hell, he never stopped talking, full stop, Angel
smiled slightly at the thought.
Spike turned back to him,
something about the slight smirk that hovered on his those lips infuriated him
and before Angel could even open his mouth it was wiped from his face by a fist
smashing into his cheek
By the time Angel had
blinked away the blood, Spike had gone.
He held a cloth to his
cheek. Well it was done, but he hated it. It had almost felt real. He guessed
rumours of their fight would already be doing the rounds of Chinese whispers
and growing in ferocity with each telling. He may as well display his caved in
cheek and swollen eye to add some grist to the rumour mill. He touched it and
winced at the tenderness. Was there any reason to hit him that hard?
Spike eventually turned up
the following morning. Apparently they still weren’t talking, at least not to
each other. Angel played the game but felt something twinge inside, there was
an icy greyness in those eyes that made him wonder whether Spike realised it
was all nothing but a play in the deadly game that he had started.
The atmosphere in their
meeting left the humans distinctly bemused.
Angel was talking about
taking a more proactive approach in fighting evil.
Spike was acting as though Angel
wasn’t there, looking around in boredom whenever he was speaking, his behaviour
becoming ever more outrageous.
“Anyone want to comment?”
Angel asked.
They all just wanted it over
and each shook their heads, except for Spike.
Angel said nothing, just waited, determined to make him speak.
Spike sat back, looked at
his watch, scratched at his balls.
“Spike-hunn? Anything you
wanna add?” Lorne finally prompted.
“Yeah. I’m going out to get
pissed. Anyone coming?”
After that meeting, Lorne
was hugely tempted but one glance at Angel’s face and he held his tongue. Spike
looked around belligerently and then strode out without waiting for an answer.
He didn’t go to the bar.
Somehow he’d thought a few drinks and his problems would melt into an alcoholic
fugue. They hadn’t, and now he was suffering from the aftermath of the previous
night’s bender. He shut his office door, ignored his thumping head and pounding
confusion, and instead concentrated on working out the details of his next
moves against the Circle.
Hmmm. Next target… either
the Archduke Sebassis or the Grand Potentate of the Fell Brethren. What was it
with evil and titles? Wanna be evil? Just add a few bells and whistles to your
name.
As far as he could figure
it, there were four main powers in the Circle. He’d met with Cyvus who
represented supernatural power, the Fell Brethren Potentate representing
religious, Sebassis who was clearly secular and then Senator Brucker, political
obviously. Finally, there were the other four members, Izzy, Chey, Bubba and
Don, the Group’s negotiators and go-betweens. Individually they had no special
power, although it seemed they were allied as a group, which was probably how
they had survived so long in such prestigious positions.
Spike remembered Sebassis from
the infamous, and in his opinion, disastrous party. An arrogant and powerful
Prince of the underworld, with legions at his command.
The Fell Brethren he knew
nothing at all about, and so called Wesley for any relevant books, as well as
scooting around internet sources. There was a surprising amount of information
to be found, including whole tracts of religious texts. He soon realised why
there was so much buzz on the websites. It appeared that the coming of the
Chosen One was imminent.
Now wasn’t that interesting…
oooo
Angel had a squash game
scheduled with Izzy.
Apparently the squash courts
were one of the safest places to talk, as Izzy said, who the hell talks about business
when they’re sweating and panting… they considered this for a second and Izzy
quickly amended it to; sweating and panting on a squash court.
Both were eager for this
chance to update their information. They nodded at each other, pulled on their protective
goggles and Angel found immense satisfaction in whacking the living daylights
out of the little ball. The violence of his opening play left Izzy standing.
“You were in Vail’s
basement?” Izzy asked as he took a wild swing at the ball.
“Uh huh.”
“You didn’t try lying to me?
Hmmm.”
Angel wasn’t sure if he
scored a point or not but Izzy gave it to him.
“Does Vail know I was
there?” He grunted as he lunged into a wall.
“No. He’s an ancient demon.”
Izzy tapped his nose. “Old senses not what they were, you know?”
Angel nodded.
“You didn’t tell him?”
“You heard me, my money’s on
you.”
Another point for Angel.
“Why me?”
He stood back and dropped
his next shot neatly into the corner, it wrong-footed Izzy and he was left
stranded uncertainly.
“Spike hasn’t got your
creativity. He’s just a minor upstart demon. Sure he has a small amount of fame
amongst humans but he’s never been a player in the demon world.”
Angel was on form, moving
confidently around the court.
“He killed the Master’s
Chosen One. Helped destroy Glory. From Vail’s reaction, I’m guessing some in
the Circle are taking him seriously.”
Again Izzy was wrong-footed
“Don’t you worry about it,
Big Guy. I have my own contacts. I’ll start pulling some strings.”
Angel wondered how much of
this was demon-talk. He was close to winning the game but Izzy took advantage
of Angel’s distraction and managed to grab a point.
“How will you convince
them?” Angel eventually asked, he needed
to know how he was being marketed so that he could play to his strengths.
“There are lots of clever,
powerful demons out there but not many major league players. You are major
league, my friend. Then there’s the importance that the Powers place on you….”
So he’d not only be a puppet
for the Powers he’d also have his strings yanked by the Senior Partners? Oh
joy.
Another point slipped away.
“What’s swaying them towards
Spike?”
He was determined to win
this one and put on a spurt of supernatural speed to reach it, but Izzy began
to come into his own. Short sentences were punctuated by an energetic thwack of
the ball.
“They think you’re weak. You
get too attached to people. They’re looking for the grand gesture that would
convince them. They’re attracted to Spike’s independence. He has almost
everything you do, but he did it by his own machinations. Even so, some of us
are still waiting for him to prove himself.”
But Angel was right with
him, keeping up and responding. Sensing that the game was almost his, Angel
sprang for a long shot.
“Who do I need to win
around?”
Izzy took his eye off the
ball for a moment and lost it. He gave a grunt of frustration.
“I shouldn’t be telling you
this but…” A slow smile showed off perfect predator’s teeth, “I’m an Angelite
through and through.”
Angelite? That was a new
one. The vampire managed to get the tip
of his racquet to the little blue ball.
“Carry on…”
“Fell Brethren,” Izzy
panted, as he struggled to get his racquet to a ball that seemed be bouncing
around the court with a mind of its own. “Senator Brucker, Sebassis.”
Angel nodded as he won the
point.
“Good game. Another?”
Izzy nodded and focused on
doing better in the next round.
oooo
“Hi. I’m William.” He stuck
out a hand to the pretty young woman. Huh. Small and blonde, just Angel’s type.
He carefully stepped around all thoughts of Nina and tried not to dislike this
woman on principle.
She stared at him in
suspicion.
“Yes? What can I do for you?
If you’re a Jehovah’s Witness then I should say now that I’m not interested.”
“I’m from Wolfram &
Hart.”
She relaxed; a look of
relief on her face.
“The lawyers? You’ve come
about the baby, yes? Come in. I’m Amanda, by the way.”
“Uh yeah, lawyers. That’s right. ”
He entered the house
wondering what the fuck was going on.
“The Brethren said they had
lawyers who would ensure that everything was legal and above board.”
Ohhhh…
“So you’ve met with the
Brethren?”
“Oh yes. They’ve been very
sweet, looking after me, bringing me shakes….”
Her voice tailed off as though she knew that she was fooling no-one,
least of all herself.
“You know they’re demons?”
She nodded and smiled. “But
you can’t hold that against them can you?”
Her bright smile hid a depth
of desperation and he felt a tug of sympathy for her.
“So why are you here?” she
asked. “My appointment at your offices isn’t due for another two weeks,.
“The details of the contract
are intricate, so I’ve been asked to come and see you?”
That was such a crap excuse.
No self-respecting lawyer would approach anyone except the client. She was
bound to see through it…. Instead she merely nodded wearily.
“Because of his illness?
Come with me.”
She took him to a dimly lit
room.
“I insisted on looking after
him at home. You know, thought it would help him to have me around…”
She turned to Spike.
“Silly really but you hear
the miracle stories of people coming out of comas when they hear a certain
voice. They always seem to happen to someone else though, don’t they? He doesn’t
know me. He doesn’t respond. I think he’s never going to.”
This was the first time she
had been able to talk about her predicament. Who could she tell such a bizarre
tale to? Tears were blinked away and she stared at Spike pleading for him to
understand.
“I have no choice. We have
no money and there’s nothing I can do for him.” She gave a pitiable laugh.
“Except turn him every few hours to prevent bedsores…”
Her voice rose and her laugh
was nothing more than a painful, sawing noise. When Spike put a hand to her
shoulder she fell into his arms and cried on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I’ve tried to be
strong and practical but sometimes… What can I do? I give them this baby and
they’ll feed it, care for it, it’ll be well treated…. He’ll be worshipped. In return they make my
Paulie well again. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to choose?”
They obviously had skipped
the Gordabach part. Worshipped and pampered until he was thirteen and then an
excruciating death. A sacrificial offering to bring about their demon messiah.
“It’s ok, Pet. I’m not
judging you.”
“Maybe I judge myself.”
Spike had no answer and just
rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.
“Come and sit down. You must
be what? Third trimester?”
“Well into it. Five weeks left,
is all. Thirty-eight weeks they classed as full term, guess that’s why they
want me to sign up by then. They’ll take him away. They say it’ll be less
painful for me if I don’t see him.”
“Yeah, I bet they do.”
She took a breath and
straightened up. It was all too late, she’d made her choice.
“Anyway, the contract needs
to state that Paul will be made completely whole, mentally and physically.”
“Uh huh. Got it.”
And no way was that unborn
kid going to end up fodder for some demon religion. He could imagine how hurt
Angel would be to see another baby snatched away.
Spike had always been a
secular demon, but he felt that pretty soon he might have the sudden urge to
get religion…
oooo
The Fell Brethren, the
Senator, Sebassis, Izzy and possibly some of his cohorts, gave Angel a healthy
list of potential allies. Not keen to deal with the powerful Archduke until he
had formulated a strategy, he considered his other two options.
He’d heard of the Fell but
knew very little about them, other than they kept to themselves and were deeply
religious. Religion or politics? Who would he rather deal with, another god as
bad as or worse than Jasmine, or a politician? No competition. He called Wesley
and asked him to extract all they held on the religion and beliefs of the Fell.
Wes smiled.
“I take it that you and
Spike are talking again?”
“What? No….”
“Oh. I’m sorry… it’s just
that, these books? Spike already has them. If you want them you’ll have to ask him,
I’m afraid. What is this sudden interest in religion?”
“Never mind,” Angel replied,
“I’ll give them a miss for now.”
Spike was ahead of him and
already working that angle, so he needed to concentrate on the Senator.
He cursed quietly.
Jesus, he hated human
politics and all the associated machinations. What a cornucopia of goodies for
an enterprising demon, the one place you could openly eat the innocent alive
and spit them out to rounds of applause.
He called for recent
newspapers that contained any articles on Senator Brucker.
This Brucker had been the
focus of much attention, although it appeared that interest in her was clearly
declining…. Seemed that the Mike Connolly juggernaut had overtaken her campaign
and left it spinning in his tailwind.
Hmmm. Maybe this was an
opportunity to win her around, if he could just find ideas to get her campaign
back on track.... So, what made a politician successful? He frowned, not having
voted since… well ever, he had no idea what issues won votes. He supposed he’d
have to trawl back through old papers and find out why certain people
flourished and others were left standing.
He’d been buried in paper
for half the day. Now he was agonisingly bored and still no closer to finding
any answers.
His mind drifted to Spike.
He was missing him and his cutting comments and incisive insights. Suddenly Angel didn’t want to be by himself.
Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. Having company would distract
him, and at the same time he could glean the opinions of his colleagues
regarding the enigma of politics.
He hovered awkwardly in the
doorway
“Hey Wes.”
That sounded casual,
sociable even.
“Angel?” Wes looked up in
surprise. “Is there something you wanted?”
“Uh no…”
Spike could do casual conversation…
what would he have said?
“Do you want to go for a
drink?”
“A drink? With you?”
He was frowning and Angel
had a sudden thought, what with falling out with Spike and everything, perhaps
Wes thought….
“It’s not a date or
anything…”
Wesley was now thoroughly
flustered.
“I never thought…”
He finally struck
inspiration and wielded his coffee cup with barely disguised relief.
“I have a drink, already…
thanks.”
“Oh…. I just thought that
you Gunn, Fred and Lorne have been working hard recently. We could take an hour
out and just catch up… but if you don’t want to…”
“That’s… Actually that’s
very thoughtful of you,” Wesley’s face gradually relaxed into a smile, making
Angel embarrassed that he hadn’t genuinely considered taking them for a drink before.
“I know a charming little
bar quite nearby. Give us ten minutes. I’ll tell the others.”
Angel contained a sigh of
relief that it was all being arranged for him. Why did he do this to himself?
The only company he really wanted was Spike’s.
oooo
“Well I always like to know
their platform of policies,” Wesley explained.
“Exactly! Education, women’s
rights…”
“Well, I just like to see a
black man up there,” Gunn admitted.
Fred hesitated.
“Well… to be honest, if
there was little to choose between two candidates and one was a woman...”
“It’s natural. We’re drawn
to people who we believe are similar to us.”
“Don’t listen to them
Angelbuns. It’s nothing complicated.” Lorne waved his hands expressively. “It’s
about personality. If a politician doesn’t have one then he has his
speechwriters craft one. If he’s bad, he just has to make his opponent out to
be worse. People try to choose the lesser of two evils. . And that’s politics
for you. Simple. And remember, politicians are kinda like diapers, they have to be changed regularly
and for the same reason.”
“They get dirty and begin to
stink.” Gunn explained.
“I knew that.” Angel frowned
slightly.
The others looked
uncomfortable. Of course Angel knew
about diapers
“Isn’t that a little
cynical?” Fred asked.
“We’re in the media age,
people. Platforms and news? Pfft. They
want a bright smile, pithy slogans and catchy opening tunes that they can clap
along to. It’s about soundbytes and image.”
Angel looked towards the
others.
“Depressing. But probably
true,” Fred agreed sadly.
Wesley looked as if he was
about to comment and then something seemed to catch his eye.
“Right, another drink
everyone? Angel would you care to give me a hand?”
He was chivvied from his
seat in rather a rush.
“Whoa! You really are
thirsty, aren’t you?”
“Parched,” Gunn confirmed.
“So move your cute tush to
the bar,” Lorne encouraged.
Angel obeyed, a little
stunned that someone thought his backside was cute, he wondered if Spike
thought so too. He was attempting to think of a conversational gambit that
might give Spike a chance to comment, and so was a little distracted as he
approached the others. Which is why it wasn’t until he was about to seat
himself that he noticed their private booth had an extra occupant, chatting
easily with the others. Until Angel appeared. They simultaneously noticed each
other.
“What do you think…?”
“What are you…?”
They turned to glare at the
others.
“You said he wouldn’t be
here!”
“Sorry Spikey. This is an
intervention,” Lorne explained.
Angel frowned.
“Intervention? What gives
you the right to interfere in our lives?”
“Why can’t you lot keep your
bloody noses out of our business!”
Wesley broke the awkward
silence.
“I’m glad to see that you two
can agree on some things. As for it being none of our business? I believe
you’re both forgetting that it is our business.
When our CEO and Head of Special Projects stop speaking to each other it
affects the whole Company.”
“Gotta agree with the Milky
Bar Kid, you can’t carry on like this,” Lorne agreed, “The whole Company is
humming with tensions, rumours are rife and employees are taking sides.
Animosity is crawling out of the woodwork. Hell they’re starting websites, the
Angelites and the Spikophiles. I mean I’m all for healthy competition….”
Wesley regarded them
seriously.
“Totally unacceptable.
Frankly, if you two haven’t sorted your differences by tomorrow then I’m
cancelling the morning meeting. We refuse to sit through another one like
today’s.”
They began to slide out of
their seats.
“We’ll uh… leave you two to
it,” Fred said, concern written large in her eyes.
They were gone without a
backward glance, leaving Angel and Spike alone.
“He just cancelled MY
morning meeting!”
“We just got bollocked by
Greenfingers!”
“Who the hell do they think
they are?”
“Too fucking right!”
“I’ll haul Wesley before a
disciplinary!”
“Uh… Will you? Cus he’s a
bit soft and all that, but funny enough, I wouldn’t cross him…”
“Soft? Be careful of him, Spike.
He’s the type that does whatever’s necessary… one day I’ll tell you about
Pylea. In fact, if I was ever asked to choose a successor for this Company,
he’d come a very close second.”
Spike frowned.
“Who’s first?”
Angel looked confused.
“Well… you.”
“Oh.”
Angel shook his head and
brought the conversation back to the point.
“We’ve split the Company in
two.”
“Yeah.”
“Izzy said he was an
Angelite.”
So Angel was working on Izzy
which probably meant he had the other three as well. Angelite….
Their eyes met and a look of
understanding passed between them as they shared the implications. Black Thorn
was dividing into camps, closely imitating what was happening within the
Company, which meant that they were getting nearer to the open warfare that Gunn
had mentioned.
Spike could feel himself
flush. He was such an idiot! Angel had been smart, engineering a rift between
them and he’d behaved like a lovelorn teenager. Yet surely he had reason, the
thing with Nina had felt real….
It was almost as though
Angel read his thoughts.
“About Nina.”
Angel took a deep, calming
breath before continuing.
“I’m sorry. I was trying to
make you jealous. It wasn’t what you thought. Even when I was a puppet, it was
still all about you.”
Spike looked up in surprise.
It was the one explanation that had never occurred to him. He buried his hands
in the pockets of his coat and toed the ground thoughtfully, before regarding
Angel with serious eyes.
“Uh. I’m sorry, too. It must
have been very difficult having a wank with puppet hands.”
Angel nodded gravely.
“Impossible.”
“I should have helped you
out. One day I’ll be fantasising about puppet sex and kicking myself that I
missed the opportunity.”
“Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re making fun of me,
aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
Angel’s body almost sagged
with relief. They were back to normal again and he wanted nothing more than to
pounce, pin his Childe down with the weight of his own body and lie covering
him, never moving again, let time stop and hold them forever in its frozen
clutches. He sometimes wondered if Spike
truly understood how much he was loved.
He took a step back. It was
time to go on with the show but at least they understood each other.
“I’ve apologised! What the
hell do you want me to do? Crawl at your feet?”
Their plan depended on them
being in conflict, but fighting was the last thing on their minds. Spike
contained a smirk at the thought of having his Sire at his feet. Angel realised what he was thinking and he
could feel frustration rising within, the need to touch his childe was
overwhelming. Why did Spike have to stand there looking so beautiful and sexy,
the filthy grin on his face, matching perfectly the thoughts in his head?
This time, however, Spike
was determined to play his part in deepening the rift.
“You’d enjoy that wouldn’t
you? Becoming my bitch?”
Angel’s eyes darkened as he
snarled, drawing back his fist, knowing that this was the only way he could
touch what he wanted to hold and keep. However, Spike was prepared for the
reaction.
The next day a hefty bill
turned up in Accounts, courtesy of the charming little bar.
Angel and Spike did not
appear that morning. The rumour was that they’d dusted each other. However,
they both turned up in the afternoon, and any disappointment that might have
been felt was alleviated by the blood, bruises, Spike’s pronounced limp and
Angel’s inability to sign any documents with his mangled right hand.
Not much work occurred in
the W&H offices that afternoon, too busy with gossip, quarrels and stand up
fights, as they alternatively denigrated and protected the good or bad names of
their chosen vampire.
These vampires watched and
listened as the tension within the Company wound tighter with each passing
hour. It Even though they couldn’t talk or touch, they felt closer than ever.
It reminded them of the days when they’d walked the world as though it belonged
to them.
Angel revelled in the
feeling of once again being the protagonist, making things happen, controlling
and manipulating. Spike couldn’t help
his pleasure at seeing the old gleam in his Sire’s eyes as they worked with all
their old synchronicity. It was as if the clocks had turned back a hundred
years and Angelus and William the Bloody were playing their victims in another
elaborate charade. But this time their victims were the Circle of the Black
Thorn, the most voracious predators the world had seen.
Their blood sang to the
danger, as they attempted the most audacious play of their unlives.