Written for my darling
ash_carpenter to welcome her back from the wilderness. This is somewhat schmoopy and slightly less insane than my usual stuff. Well, at least, I think it is...
Title: Master of Smiles
Pairing: Spangel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Heaven smiled upon us when Joss allowed us to borrow his characters.
Summary: How much damage can one smile do? Spike finds out.
A smile can be the most terrifying thing, if worn by the right face. It can be the scariest and deadliest of weapons. Just look at Helen of Troy. She smiled at Paris and it unleashed a war that destroyed Troy. They didn’t call it “the smile that launched a thousand ships” for no reason. Ok, so the exact words were “the face that launched a thousand ships” but Helen had to have smiled at the nancy-boy at some point, right?
Still, the bint’s smile was no match for his. His arsenal was practically bursting with all the different types of smiles he possessed. He had one for every occasion. Depending on what he wanted, he’d take one out and beam it on an unsuspecting victim. Hell, he’d even use it on a suspecting one (hello, Angelus?). He wasn’t all that bloody picky. Besides, he believed in being an equal opportunity smiler.
One morning, as he prowled down the hallway at Wolfram and Hart, he was feeling generous. Would it be The Day?
He lifted one side of his mouth up slightly in a totally bad boy smirk, sending the flustered intern he met into a tizzy. Ooh, another incoming victim. Zap! Version number two, the patented I-will-make-you-cream-in-your-knickers-whether-or-not-you’re-wearing-a-pair, reduced the head of the security team to a pile of goo.
Supremely satisfied by the chaos he had caused within seconds, Spike chuckled. As Angel’s office doors loomed into view, however, a scowl destroyed his previously mirthful features. Of all the creatures in the world, only Angel remained immune to his devastating smile. Spike was never one to let a challenge go unanswered so everyday he’d show up and try out a different version of his smile on the git. Eventually, he knew that the broody tosser would break down and succumb to the inevitable. That is, if he could only get past the smug, come-kill-me, shit eating grin with Angel - the only smile that dared to make an appearance in the face of all that poofy, anal-retentiveness.
“Spike,” Angel growled without looking up from his paperwork, obediently initiating their usual snarkfest after Spike slammed the office doors open so hard that they rebounded close.
“Peaches,” Spike tossed back, settling comfortably in the chair across from Angel.
He could feel it. Today would be the day. Now, the right smile…
The muscles around his lip twitched tentatively. Perhaps, the I’m-bloody-fab-and-you-know-you-want-to-be-my-mate smirk? Nope, too irritating. He wanted Angel to fawn over him loopily not go starkers and beat him bloody. Not that the plonker could best him - the whole Cup thing had proved his prowess as a fighter.
What about the I-come-in-peace-so-let’s-grab-a-few-beers rueful smile? Nah, too vulnerable. It required him to drop his defenses in order to make the expression genuine. If Angel rejected him, it would burn like his bloody knackers were being fried, a sensation that he really would not recommend to anyone. Plus, the ponce would gloat for eternity over the fact that he had been the one to concede their longstanding contest for one-upping each other.
“Are you taking a class on facial contortions or what?” Angel’s wry words broke into his internal debate.
“Maybe you oughta take it. Might help with the whole constipated look and all,” Spike sneered, face settling in his usual expression.
As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Great, he had blown it. Angel was now glowering. Out the window went civil conversation. Spike resigned himself to another day of defeat.
Wesley crashed in through the doors suddenly.
“Angel!” he exclaimed. “A Kisnos demon has taken Fred hostage in the lab!”
Quickly, Angel grabbed his broadsword and rushed off to the rescue with Spike hot on his heels. When they reached the lab, they found the staff running around hysterically, throwing whatever they could find at the snarling Kisnos demon. Caught by the demon’s huge claws, a wincing Fred tried to dodge the flying missiles, especially the vials.
“Enough!” Angel roared. Unfortunately, it did not have the effect he hoped for. Spike snickered a little at Angel’s dumbfounded look.
Screams and sobs broke out among the staff members as they turned to their new target and began aiming their projectiles at him instead.
“What the fuck!?!” Angel blurted out incredulously. Wesley and Spike dragged him behind a lab bench for cover.
“The Kisnos demon causes chaos wherever it goes,” Wesley explained, wincing when one vial hit really close to where he was cowering, splashing his new boots with green goo. “It induces surrounding creatures to act chaotically and channels their actions toward a particular figure. Before it was targeting Fred but now, it has chosen us instead.”
Spike lifted his head above the bench and risked a quick glance at the demon. A microscope nearly hit him in the face. Cursing, he ducked his head again.
“Isn’t that Crunchy, head of the car washing demons?” he asked.
The former Watcher nodded in surprise. “You know him?”
Angel growled. “Another one of your messes, boy?” he demanded angrily.
“Fuck off!” Spike shot back just as heatedly.
They froze when they heard the demon speaking. “Be still,” it stated and the sound of smashing objects halted.
Cautiously, three heads popped up above the lab bench.
“Now, will you give me what I want, Spike?” Crunchy asked with a smug grin.
Angel glared furiously at Spike. “I knew it!” he hissed.
Spike threw him a cold stare before answering the Kisnos demon. “No bloody way,” he said stubbornly.
“Now is not the time, Spike,” Wesley whispered. “Fred is still in the demon’s hands.”
Spike gave a frustrated sigh. “Fine!” he shouted.
Crunchy looked insanely happy. Angel and Wesley watched in shock when Spike suddenly smiled seductively, with a come-hither look on his face. Unconsciously, Angel growled.
Setting Fred on her feet, the demon then swooned dramatically and fainted. The lab staff slowly snapped out of their daze and looked around sheepishly.
Wesley ran over to Fred and lifted the Texan up, twirling her around happily. Spike allowed an expression of relief to flit across his face before slipping out the door silently. He couldn’t believe someone had blackmailed one of his smiles out of him. They were precious, only bestowed onto deserving subjects or whoever else he felt like giving them to i.e. the good looking people. Fuming, he didn’t notice the angry form following after him.
Not surprisingly, Angel finally caught up to Spike in his office. The blonde was rummaging through his bar.
“What the fuck was that?” Angel demanded, voice harsher than he had intended.
Spike spun around. “Jealous?” he queried with just a glimpse of tongue in his smirk. The execution was just perfect, even if he did say so himself.
Angel snorted. “Hell would freeze over first,” he remarked wryly. “I just wanna fucking know what kinda shit you’re stirring up in my company!”
“Nothing that concerns you,” Spike jeered. He tried to leave but Angel stopped him with a firm grip on his bicep.
“You know I’ll get it out of Crunchy anyway,” Angel stated in a low voice. “Wouldn’t you like a chance to explain your version first?” He removed his grip from Spike’s arm as a conciliatory gesture.
Was that actually concern in Angel’s voice? Stunned, Spike warred with himself over what to do.
Being the dense blockhead he was, Angel mistook Spike’s internal civil war - not brooding - for stubbornness and added coldly, “Or do I have to beat it out of you?”
Red bled over Spike’s vision. To think that he had actually thought that the poof was truly concerned over him.
“Fuck off!” he sneered and punched Angel in the face.
Head snapping back, Angel nevertheless managed to evade Spike’s next kick. He grabbed the leg and yanked the blonde off balance.
Spike tumbled over in surprise, smashing into the floor. Angel’s heavier form immediately pinned him down tightly, leaving him no room for movement.
“Get off, you wanker!” Spike yelled in frustration, trying to find some leverage to buck the older vampire off of him.
“No Spike,” Angel said with an infuriating grin - which was way way inferior to Spike’s version, the younger vampire thought smugly. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
Spike spit in his face but the brunette was undeterred.
“I can do this all day,” Angel murmured with his eyes closed, not even loosening one arm to wipe the saliva off his face.
They settled into a stubborn silence, not that it lasted long, considering that one of the occupants was a hyperactive, impatient vampire who needed to constantly use his mouth.
“I told Crunchy that I would stop smiling at him if he didn’t stop saying that you looked retarded when you grinned, happy?” Spike said in a rush, looking away from Angel.
The atmosphere in the room suddenly became awkward. He felt Angel rolling off him and he quickly got to his feet without looking at the larger vampire. It all sounded so foolish now that he had said it out aloud. But the worst thing was that Angel now knew that he still cared.
A hand tugged at his arm and he spun around, ready to raise hell if Angel so much as smirked at him.
True to his expectation, Angel was smiling at him but it was a warm, soft expression that cut through all his lies and bullshit. Spike’s lips automatically answered with a suitable expression of their own. It was totally uncalculated and unguarded, with no purpose other than to express his pleasure. In it, all his hopes, love, and admiration for the vampire in front of him were revealed. Angel’s eyes softened with love but it wasn’t enough to hide what looked like triumph.
“I win,” he whispered fondly before crushing his mouth to Spike’s.
Realization followed closely on the heels of confusion. All this time, Spike had worked on finding a smile that he could use to manipulate Angel, not dreaming that Angel had known his intentions all along. Then, the older vampire had turned his own game against him. One smile at an opportune moment and Spike was offering the older vampire what he had never given anybody else - a genuine smile.
Spike moaned into Angel’s mouth, gracious in his defeat. How could he have forgotten?
Good as he was, he was no match for his teacher, the true Master of smiles.