Spike stalked down the corridor toward Angel's room. Wes wasn't about, par for the course these days since Rupes had given him a spot in the labs downstairs to run some tests on his own blood, and Angel's. And that was fine with him. One less thing to deal with.
Wesley, and the impreturbable git Bevins had sussed out the reason that Angel had started to dust was because the venom had reached a saturation point in his flesh - so, he'd started to dissolve. Powers gave us a good kick in the arse, they did.
And he was about to give Angel a kick in his.
"Come on, then," he said, "Got a bit of a surprise waiting."
"Go away, Spike."
"Not tonight. You said you'd show me a bit more tai chi, and I'm sick o' doin it smellin' all these chemicals."
Angel sighed and lumbered to his feet. "Lemme get changed," he said listlessly, picked up a pair of sweatpants and headed toward the bathroom.
Always was a bit modest.
"Okay, so what's the surprise."
"If I tell you, that will spoil it."
Angel, frowning at Spike's sarcastic tone, trailed behind him like a seven-year old drug along on a shopping trip for canned vegetables. "Is it going to take long to get there?"
"No."
Angel fidgeted in the elevator. "We're not going outside are we?"
"No, and I would have told you to bring shoes and not flip-flops if we were." Spike's voice was just on the edge of patience.
"Jeez, you're touchy."
Spike gritted his teeth and bounced on his toes.
The elevator door opened on a quintessential English entryway. Parquet floor, graced with a tasteful oriental rug. A mahogany demi-lune table holding a vase of flowers stood against the wall. Stairs curled over their heads to the second floor. A large, double-wide door, shiny and black, led to the world beyond. Spike walked two steps out of the elevator. Angel didn't move.
"What?"
"That seems like going outside."
"S'not. There's a door just on the other side of the stairs to the courtyard. All enclosed, like."
Angel grudgingly walked out of the elevator and followed Spike, who wondered if he ground his teeth to bits, would they regenerate?
Opening the door, he motioned Angel through.
It was a jewel of a garden, even in the moonlight. The house had a long logia across the back, providing shade during the day and tables and comfortable chairs scattered along it's length. A gravel path quartered the garden, and a fountain splashed merrily in the center, lights shining up through the water.
"Just on the other side of the fountain's a nice bit of grass big enough for us both to spread out and do our thing. Moon's full, so we don't need the extra lights." He brushed past Angel and walked down the stairs, holding his arm wide in a gesture of welcome."
"And the roses are bloomin' so it smells a damn sight better than the indoors."
Angel walked out onto the path and hesitantly toward the fountain, circled it, and sat on the far edge with his back facing the house. He glanced around. "This is nice, Spike," he said over his shoulder.
Spike closed his eyes in gratitude - it was one of the first positive things Angel had said in weeks.
"Has Wes seen this?" Angel asked, slipping off his flip flops and beginning to stretch. "He likes gardens."
And, the gratitude turned sour. Always Wes. Wes, Wes, Wes, blah, blah, blah. "Uh, dunno. 'Spose he's been tucked away in his lab. Rupert may have brought him down for breakfast or some such. Didn't say."
Angel was concentrating on stretching and didn't answer. Spike shrugged, shucked off his duster and sitting on the step, tugged off his Docs. Once ready, he silently stepped across the garden into place a few feet from Angel, beginning his stretches.
The grass felt deep and springy under his feet. Looking up, he could see the stars shining dimly, competing with the London lights. The moon was bright.
"Nice night."
"Uh-huh."
Angel put himself in the beginning, centering posture and waited for Spike to be ready. Nodding at Angel, they began to flow from posture to posture. They worked a few moments in concert, then Spike faltered a bit.
"You know if you wore sweats, you'd have an easier time."
Spike smiled to himself. Never failed. Angel always spoke more freely if he had something to occupy his hands or his body. And departing that train of thought...
"Can't be goin' on patrol in sweats. Gives the beasties somethin' to hang onto."
"Borrow a pair of Wes' then."
"Like he'd part with 'em. They're Rupert's"
"Yeah. I'm glad he's happy and all, but….still a little weirded out about that."
"How so? The fancyin' a bloke thing? Yea, me too, but just bein' around 'em, you can tell. Nothin' wrong with it as far as I'm concerned."
"Spike. You know it's not that. Think Wes got...changed when he died?"
"Wot, woke up gay? Hardly. More like finally recognized a good thing when he saw it. Guess while he was slightly batty and all...his, I dunno, inhibitions were down, he felt it, and then didn't shy away when he woke up."
"I guess that's one theory. You don't think Giles is taking advantage -"
Spike stopped and looked at Angel, who stared back but kept going. "Are you bloody kidding me? Giles nearly fell all over himself making sure he didn't get in Wesley's personal space. Let him suss it out for himself."
Angel shrugged and Spike tsked at him, then tried to catch up with Angel's movements. Angel stopped and reaching out, rearranged Spike's stance, pushing his hips into proper alignment. Spike closed his eyes and gritted his teeth again, though this time for a different reason. Angel heard him, and gave him an admonishing look.
"Would you just slow down? If you go through the next positions like that, you'll just end up twisting your knee and falling over."
"Sorry, sorry." Spike didn't correct the misunderstanding. He never did.
Angel settled himself into position again, and satisfied Spike was doing the postures correctly, continued the conversation. "I just never noticed that about him."
"Not like you were lookin'?"
Angel scoffed. "No. Just….never even got a vibe. Like Giles, I got a vibe, especially when a friend of his came to town."
Spike bit his tongue, trying not to ask if Angel had wanted a vibe from Wes.
"Ya are kinda thickheaded."
"Yeah, like you aren't"
They moved through several postures.
"'Course, you're kinda used to not seein' what you don't want to."
Angel's smooth movements hitched a little. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
"Like now. You not wanting to be back in the world an all, yet."
"Like I said before, Spike, I don't just bounce back like you after three weeks in a basement. I actually take the time to think things through."
"That's as may be, but you can't hide in here forever."
No answer but the muted sounds of the city beyond the walls. Spike noticed it was a little harder for Angel to keep his movements smooth.
"Not like you don't know that you're still here because of the next Big Bad."
"And probably the next, and the next one after that."
Wesley, and the impreturbable git Bevins had sussed out the reason that Angel had started to dust was because the venom had reached a saturation point in his flesh - so, he'd started to dissolve. Powers gave us a good kick in the arse, they did.
And he was about to give Angel a kick in his.
"Come on, then," he said, "Got a bit of a surprise waiting."
"Go away, Spike."
"Not tonight. You said you'd show me a bit more tai chi, and I'm sick o' doin it smellin' all these chemicals."
Angel sighed and lumbered to his feet. "Lemme get changed," he said listlessly, picked up a pair of sweatpants and headed toward the bathroom.
Always was a bit modest.
"Okay, so what's the surprise."
"If I tell you, that will spoil it."
Angel, frowning at Spike's sarcastic tone, trailed behind him like a seven-year old drug along on a shopping trip for canned vegetables. "Is it going to take long to get there?"
"No."
Angel fidgeted in the elevator. "We're not going outside are we?"
"No, and I would have told you to bring shoes and not flip-flops if we were." Spike's voice was just on the edge of patience.
"Jeez, you're touchy."
Spike gritted his teeth and bounced on his toes.
The elevator door opened on a quintessential English entryway. Parquet floor, graced with a tasteful oriental rug. A mahogany demi-lune table holding a vase of flowers stood against the wall. Stairs curled over their heads to the second floor. A large, double-wide door, shiny and black, led to the world beyond. Spike walked two steps out of the elevator. Angel didn't move.
"What?"
"That seems like going outside."
"S'not. There's a door just on the other side of the stairs to the courtyard. All enclosed, like."
Angel grudgingly walked out of the elevator and followed Spike, who wondered if he ground his teeth to bits, would they regenerate?
Opening the door, he motioned Angel through.
It was a jewel of a garden, even in the moonlight. The house had a long logia across the back, providing shade during the day and tables and comfortable chairs scattered along it's length. A gravel path quartered the garden, and a fountain splashed merrily in the center, lights shining up through the water.
"Just on the other side of the fountain's a nice bit of grass big enough for us both to spread out and do our thing. Moon's full, so we don't need the extra lights." He brushed past Angel and walked down the stairs, holding his arm wide in a gesture of welcome."
"And the roses are bloomin' so it smells a damn sight better than the indoors."
Angel walked out onto the path and hesitantly toward the fountain, circled it, and sat on the far edge with his back facing the house. He glanced around. "This is nice, Spike," he said over his shoulder.
Spike closed his eyes in gratitude - it was one of the first positive things Angel had said in weeks.
"Has Wes seen this?" Angel asked, slipping off his flip flops and beginning to stretch. "He likes gardens."
And, the gratitude turned sour. Always Wes. Wes, Wes, Wes, blah, blah, blah. "Uh, dunno. 'Spose he's been tucked away in his lab. Rupert may have brought him down for breakfast or some such. Didn't say."
Angel was concentrating on stretching and didn't answer. Spike shrugged, shucked off his duster and sitting on the step, tugged off his Docs. Once ready, he silently stepped across the garden into place a few feet from Angel, beginning his stretches.
The grass felt deep and springy under his feet. Looking up, he could see the stars shining dimly, competing with the London lights. The moon was bright.
"Nice night."
"Uh-huh."
Angel put himself in the beginning, centering posture and waited for Spike to be ready. Nodding at Angel, they began to flow from posture to posture. They worked a few moments in concert, then Spike faltered a bit.
"You know if you wore sweats, you'd have an easier time."
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"Can't be goin' on patrol in sweats. Gives the beasties somethin' to hang onto."
"Borrow a pair of Wes' then."
"Like he'd part with 'em. They're Rupert's"
"Yeah. I'm glad he's happy and all, but….still a little weirded out about that."
"How so? The fancyin' a bloke thing? Yea, me too, but just bein' around 'em, you can tell. Nothin' wrong with it as far as I'm concerned."
"Spike. You know it's not that. Think Wes got...changed when he died?"
"Wot, woke up gay? Hardly. More like finally recognized a good thing when he saw it. Guess while he was slightly batty and all...his, I dunno, inhibitions were down, he felt it, and then didn't shy away when he woke up."
"I guess that's one theory. You don't think Giles is taking advantage -"
Spike stopped and looked at Angel, who stared back but kept going. "Are you bloody kidding me? Giles nearly fell all over himself making sure he didn't get in Wesley's personal space. Let him suss it out for himself."
Angel shrugged and Spike tsked at him, then tried to catch up with Angel's movements. Angel stopped and reaching out, rearranged Spike's stance, pushing his hips into proper alignment. Spike closed his eyes and gritted his teeth again, though this time for a different reason. Angel heard him, and gave him an admonishing look.
"Would you just slow down? If you go through the next positions like that, you'll just end up twisting your knee and falling over."
"Sorry, sorry." Spike didn't correct the misunderstanding. He never did.
Angel settled himself into position again, and satisfied Spike was doing the postures correctly, continued the conversation. "I just never noticed that about him."
"Not like you were lookin'?"
Angel scoffed. "No. Just….never even got a vibe. Like Giles, I got a vibe, especially when a friend of his came to town."
Spike bit his tongue, trying not to ask if Angel had wanted a vibe from Wes.
"Ya are kinda thickheaded."
"Yeah, like you aren't"
They moved through several postures.
"'Course, you're kinda used to not seein' what you don't want to."
Angel's smooth movements hitched a little. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
"Like now. You not wanting to be back in the world an all, yet."
"Like I said before, Spike, I don't just bounce back like you after three weeks in a basement. I actually take the time to think things through."
"That's as may be, but you can't hide in here forever."
No answer but the muted sounds of the city beyond the walls. Spike noticed it was a little harder for Angel to keep his movements smooth.
"Not like you don't know that you're still here because of the next Big Bad."
"And probably the next, and the next one after that."
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