Acceptable Losses :: Chapter Ten.
Title: Acceptable Losses
Author: fenderlove
Pairing: Spike/Angel
Rating: PG. Worksafe, save for some mentions of violence.
Summary: Spike and Angel are making a go of it after returning from Hell in Angel: After the Fall. Unfortunately, being a single vampire dad living with your pain-in-the-ass boyfriend and Journalism major son makes Hell seem almost preferable.
Acceptable Losses
Chapter Ten: In the Valley Below.
Swinging down his broadsword through demony sinew and bone, Angel turned on his heel, drawing an unneeded breath as he anticipated further attacks. As another creature ran towards him, the vampire dropped into a crouching position and swung his leg out sweeping the attacking demon's legs out from under it. With a quick stroke of the sword, Angel completely cleaved its body in two.
A hiss from the shadows drew Angel's attention. Perched in a crag in the sewer wall, an imp peered out, its arms dangling down almost twice the length of its body. The imp was breathing heavily through its long, crooked nose as it glared at Angel standing in the midst of the remains of its guard demons.
"You dare enter my domain, half-breed?" the imp growled.
Angel rolled his eyes slightly as he shouldered his sword, "Right. And you are?"
The imp gasped in shock, scrambling down the wall with its clawed feet and prehensile tail, and smacked at its paunchy belly proudly, "I am the son of Marrowsuck the Deathstalker, son of Orgoth the Deathbringer." Taking a deep breath, it proclaimed, "I am Scrambles the Deathdealer!"
"Scrambles?" Angel blinked. "The Deathdealer?"
"Cease your mocking tone, and leave my kingdom!"
"Look, your kingdom is beneath a Cinnabon. You're a minor inconvenience and a health code violation," Angel replied, and with a glance towards his sword continued, "Either clear out, or you can wind up like your pals scattered in pieces throughout the sewer."
The imp seemed to be thinking it over before scuttling towards the mouth of the sewer tunnel, never taking its eyes off Angel, "You won't win so easily next time! My new lair will be far grander and less fragrant than this one!"
"Just stay away from restaurants!" Angel watched as the spindly creature retreated into the dank recesses of the sewer. To himself, he muttered, "Case closed."
Two weeks after consolidating his detective agency with that of Angel Gutierrez's, Angel had found more steady work than he ever had before. Unfortunately, he had been doing it all himself while Connor had taken over training the Slayers since Spike was preoccupied with Baby Henry who was slowly becoming a little person rather than a wriggling thing that only cried. With the baby taking all of Spike's time and energy, Angel was more than a little annoyed that the blonde's affections were elsewhere.
Angel trudged out of the sewer access tunnel and towards his parked car, mourning the loss of another pair of shoes. With all the work being shot his way, there should have been lots of spare cash for small luxuries, but with the ever-rising grocery bill and the extras that had to be bought for the baby, there was no way to enjoy the fruits of his labours. Buffy had been kind enough to send support payments for the girls (and for Henry too, Angel supposed) every week, but they weren't even close to being enough. Angel had agreed to the merger with Gutierrez so that everyone under his roof would be more comfortable, but it felt like he was right back to square one, barely getting by.
Pulling out his cellphone as he walked, Angel dialed Gutierrez to let him know that the imp problem at the Cinnabon was taken care of. He would have called home too, but he knew the line would be busy. The phone bill was another point of contention. The multitude of long distance and international calls were beginning to be a burden. The girls, for the most part, tried to keep their conversations short, but Daisy had the phone glued to her ear when she wasn't training. She was always yelling at whoever was on the other end; Angel figured it was a boy.
Getting into his car with a grimace as the sludge of sewer grime and demon gore on his clothing squished against the leather upholstery, Angel debated about going back to the apartment immediately. Things between him and Spike weren't the same with Henry there. Angel remembered how he and Spike used to go out patrolling all night, come home battered just before dawn, and have incredible sex until they were both unconscious. Now, Angel found himself alone most of the time, going home to a wrecked apartment, an empty fridge, and unwelcomed celibacy. It wasn't that Angel expected Spike to be Susie Homemaker, but he missed Spike paying attention to him, missed the simple intimacy between them.
It wasn't just about sex, though Angel's mind kept coming back to it. He knew Spike was exhausted just as he was. The first few days with the baby had been great. The girls had been quiet and helpful, and Connor had decided to spend the first part of his summer vacation at the apartment instead of with the Reillys. Spike was terrified of doing something wrong with Henry, and he relied heavily on Angel's advice. For the first time, possibly ever, Spike followed Angel's instructions perfectly. However, that lasted for only a day before Spike found books, websites, and YouTube videos that made him act as though he was a childcare expert and didn't want anyone's help anymore. The blonde would hardly let anyone hold Henry though Angel couldn't fault him for it as he remembered what that feeling was like.
Angel drove around the block a few times before finally pulling into his building's parking garage. The walk up to the apartment was getting longer and harder by the day. Angel just wanted to be able to sit down on his couch in his home and have some peace and quiet for five minutes. He knew the moment he opened the door a wall of noise created by four teenaged girls, a blaring television, and a screaming baby would hit him.
Stepping inside the apartment, Angel found that he was right, except about the screaming baby. Three of the young Slayers were sitting around the living room, watching TV and talking. Daisy was pacing in the kitchen, shrieking at the phone receiver. Empty containers of Chinese food were littered all over the place. The door to his and Spike's bedroom was shut, a sign that the blonde was trying to catch some rest while Henry napped.
"Connor went to the store to get more formula for Henry," Florence said, anticipating what Angel might ask, as she watched Reglisse and Pistache fight over what to watch.
Angel kicked off his ruined shoes by the mat and gave no response. He went over to his bedroom and opened the door. Spike was sprawled on his side on the bed with Henry softly cooing next to him. The lights were dim, and Spike looked gorgeous with a serene if very sleepy smile on his face. Angel suddenly felt the majority of his anger dissipate.
Glancing up, Spike asked quietly, "Rough day at the office, luv?"
"Not as bad as it could have been," Angel opened up the weapons chest and placed the gore-covered boardsword inside.
"You smell like cinnamon and sewage," Spike raised an eyebrow.
Sighing, Angel undressed, tossing his clothing into the hamper, "Imp under a bakery."
The blonde laughed, "Not exactly where you'd expect to find one."
Angel went into their bathroom, "Seems that he liked stealing batches of sugar glaze. The health inspector was not pleased."
After pushing the baby bathinette out of the way, Angel stepped into the shower. Through the rasp of the water, Angel could hear Spike begin to sing to Henry.
"The darkness must go down the river of Night's dreaming," Spike sang softly, kissing the baby's forehead, "Flow Morphia slow. Let the sun and light come streaming into my life..."
Leave it to Spike to think that "Rocky Horror" makes for an appropriate lullaby, Angel smiled to himself.
When Angel had finished cleaning up, Spike was asleep, snoring slightly. Henry, however, was wide awake, making happy little noises. Angel wrapped a towel around his waist and went over to the bed. Picking up the child, he held Henry against his chest. Henry whinged momentarily before settling. Angel let his fingers gently stroke over the baby's fine red hair that Spike kept carefully pushed into a half-hearted faux-hawk. He walked over to the crib, which was situated next to Spike's side of the bed beside his computer desk, and placed the baby inside. Cranking on the mobile with its puffy teddy-bears, Angel hoped Henry would quickly be lulled to sleep.
"Let Spike get a few hours rest, all right?" Angel brushed his thumb over the baby's cheek.
As Angel climbed into bed for a little rest himself, Spike woke with a start, patting the bed as if to search for the baby.
"Henry's in his crib," Angel whispered, kissing Spike's shoulder. "He's safe. Just go back to sleep."
Spike began to protest, wanting to go check on Henry, to assure himself that the boy was safe, but relaxed into Angel's arms and drifted off.
Sometime later, Henry began to whimper, which was all it took for Spike to wake up again. The blonde stretched as he untangled himself from Angel's grip and got up to pad over to the crib in his pajama shorts, a necessity since he was having to venture out of the bedroom at all hours and didn't want to be caught starkers by any innocent eyes.
"What's got you so unhappy, Happy?" Spike reached down to let the baby grasp at his fingers. "Did you miss Daddy?"
Lifting Henry out of the crib, Spike kissed his cheek, hoping to stave off any actual crying. Spike took the baby into the kitchen, passing by all four girls asleep on the couch with the TV still flickering. A light shone out from beneath Connor's door, signaling that the boy had come home and was likely surfing the Internet. After microwaving a bottle of formula and turning off the television set, Spike went back to the bedroom to sit in his comfy chair and give Henry his snack. The boy latched onto the bottle, his cheeks puffing out cutely as he suckled.
Spike was getting used to feeling overwhelmed. He spent most of his time shifting from absolute adoration of Henry and the heart-wrenching terror that he was going to do something to accidentally hurt the baby. Spike had nearly had a panic attack the first time he had to give the boy a bath. Spike was grateful that Angel had been there to show him what to do and to give him confidence to do things on his own. It was much harder to be confident with Angel not around as much. Spike wanted to ask Angel to stay home more, but he thought that would be selfish. Angel was trying so hard to keep them afloat when Spike knew it was his "pet projects" that made it necessary for all the extra expended effort. Spike had also been neglecting the girls and their training, and in doing so had given Connor a responsibility that kept him from enjoying his vacation time away from school. An uncomfortable, guilty feeling hung heavily over Spike, and he felt tugged in so many different directions that it was a miracle he didn't just succumb to spontaneous dismemberment.
"Remember this, Hap," Spike spoke solemnly to the baby, "Responsibility is an awful thing. Avoid it all costs."
Henry was either moved to deep thought by the words, or he was going to spit up.
"I can see that you are truly getting something out of this father-son talk," Spike grabbed one of the burp cloths from the desk in case the kid decided to spew.
For once, it was a false alarm. Henry managed to get his own fingers in his mouth and began to suck on them, blinking owlishly up at Spike with his big hazel eyes.
Spike rocked Henry gently in his arms, "Would you like to hear a song my mum used to sing to me when I was a wee little nipper like you... and even when I was not so wee?"
Henry drifted back to sleep listening to the lilting words, far too young to understand just how forlorn the lyrics about the lamentations of a lovesick maiden were. Holding back a yawn, Spike put the baby in his crib and then got back into bed. Angel's arm instantly wrapped around him, and Spike smiled, comforted knowing that all members of his household were safe and nearby.
To be continued...
Previous Chapters: One :: Two :: Three :: Four :: Five :: Six :: Seven :: Eight :: Nine.
x-posted on nekid_spike.
Author: fenderlove
Pairing: Spike/Angel
Rating: PG. Worksafe, save for some mentions of violence.
Summary: Spike and Angel are making a go of it after returning from Hell in Angel: After the Fall. Unfortunately, being a single vampire dad living with your pain-in-the-ass boyfriend and Journalism major son makes Hell seem almost preferable.
Acceptable Losses
Chapter Ten: In the Valley Below.
Swinging down his broadsword through demony sinew and bone, Angel turned on his heel, drawing an unneeded breath as he anticipated further attacks. As another creature ran towards him, the vampire dropped into a crouching position and swung his leg out sweeping the attacking demon's legs out from under it. With a quick stroke of the sword, Angel completely cleaved its body in two.
A hiss from the shadows drew Angel's attention. Perched in a crag in the sewer wall, an imp peered out, its arms dangling down almost twice the length of its body. The imp was breathing heavily through its long, crooked nose as it glared at Angel standing in the midst of the remains of its guard demons.
"You dare enter my domain, half-breed?" the imp growled.
Angel rolled his eyes slightly as he shouldered his sword, "Right. And you are?"
The imp gasped in shock, scrambling down the wall with its clawed feet and prehensile tail, and smacked at its paunchy belly proudly, "I am the son of Marrowsuck the Deathstalker, son of Orgoth the Deathbringer." Taking a deep breath, it proclaimed, "I am Scrambles the Deathdealer!"
"Scrambles?" Angel blinked. "The Deathdealer?"
"Cease your mocking tone, and leave my kingdom!"
"Look, your kingdom is beneath a Cinnabon. You're a minor inconvenience and a health code violation," Angel replied, and with a glance towards his sword continued, "Either clear out, or you can wind up like your pals scattered in pieces throughout the sewer."
The imp seemed to be thinking it over before scuttling towards the mouth of the sewer tunnel, never taking its eyes off Angel, "You won't win so easily next time! My new lair will be far grander and less fragrant than this one!"
"Just stay away from restaurants!" Angel watched as the spindly creature retreated into the dank recesses of the sewer. To himself, he muttered, "Case closed."
Two weeks after consolidating his detective agency with that of Angel Gutierrez's, Angel had found more steady work than he ever had before. Unfortunately, he had been doing it all himself while Connor had taken over training the Slayers since Spike was preoccupied with Baby Henry who was slowly becoming a little person rather than a wriggling thing that only cried. With the baby taking all of Spike's time and energy, Angel was more than a little annoyed that the blonde's affections were elsewhere.
Angel trudged out of the sewer access tunnel and towards his parked car, mourning the loss of another pair of shoes. With all the work being shot his way, there should have been lots of spare cash for small luxuries, but with the ever-rising grocery bill and the extras that had to be bought for the baby, there was no way to enjoy the fruits of his labours. Buffy had been kind enough to send support payments for the girls (and for Henry too, Angel supposed) every week, but they weren't even close to being enough. Angel had agreed to the merger with Gutierrez so that everyone under his roof would be more comfortable, but it felt like he was right back to square one, barely getting by.
Pulling out his cellphone as he walked, Angel dialed Gutierrez to let him know that the imp problem at the Cinnabon was taken care of. He would have called home too, but he knew the line would be busy. The phone bill was another point of contention. The multitude of long distance and international calls were beginning to be a burden. The girls, for the most part, tried to keep their conversations short, but Daisy had the phone glued to her ear when she wasn't training. She was always yelling at whoever was on the other end; Angel figured it was a boy.
Getting into his car with a grimace as the sludge of sewer grime and demon gore on his clothing squished against the leather upholstery, Angel debated about going back to the apartment immediately. Things between him and Spike weren't the same with Henry there. Angel remembered how he and Spike used to go out patrolling all night, come home battered just before dawn, and have incredible sex until they were both unconscious. Now, Angel found himself alone most of the time, going home to a wrecked apartment, an empty fridge, and unwelcomed celibacy. It wasn't that Angel expected Spike to be Susie Homemaker, but he missed Spike paying attention to him, missed the simple intimacy between them.
It wasn't just about sex, though Angel's mind kept coming back to it. He knew Spike was exhausted just as he was. The first few days with the baby had been great. The girls had been quiet and helpful, and Connor had decided to spend the first part of his summer vacation at the apartment instead of with the Reillys. Spike was terrified of doing something wrong with Henry, and he relied heavily on Angel's advice. For the first time, possibly ever, Spike followed Angel's instructions perfectly. However, that lasted for only a day before Spike found books, websites, and YouTube videos that made him act as though he was a childcare expert and didn't want anyone's help anymore. The blonde would hardly let anyone hold Henry though Angel couldn't fault him for it as he remembered what that feeling was like.
Angel drove around the block a few times before finally pulling into his building's parking garage. The walk up to the apartment was getting longer and harder by the day. Angel just wanted to be able to sit down on his couch in his home and have some peace and quiet for five minutes. He knew the moment he opened the door a wall of noise created by four teenaged girls, a blaring television, and a screaming baby would hit him.
Stepping inside the apartment, Angel found that he was right, except about the screaming baby. Three of the young Slayers were sitting around the living room, watching TV and talking. Daisy was pacing in the kitchen, shrieking at the phone receiver. Empty containers of Chinese food were littered all over the place. The door to his and Spike's bedroom was shut, a sign that the blonde was trying to catch some rest while Henry napped.
"Connor went to the store to get more formula for Henry," Florence said, anticipating what Angel might ask, as she watched Reglisse and Pistache fight over what to watch.
Angel kicked off his ruined shoes by the mat and gave no response. He went over to his bedroom and opened the door. Spike was sprawled on his side on the bed with Henry softly cooing next to him. The lights were dim, and Spike looked gorgeous with a serene if very sleepy smile on his face. Angel suddenly felt the majority of his anger dissipate.
Glancing up, Spike asked quietly, "Rough day at the office, luv?"
"Not as bad as it could have been," Angel opened up the weapons chest and placed the gore-covered boardsword inside.
"You smell like cinnamon and sewage," Spike raised an eyebrow.
Sighing, Angel undressed, tossing his clothing into the hamper, "Imp under a bakery."
The blonde laughed, "Not exactly where you'd expect to find one."
Angel went into their bathroom, "Seems that he liked stealing batches of sugar glaze. The health inspector was not pleased."
After pushing the baby bathinette out of the way, Angel stepped into the shower. Through the rasp of the water, Angel could hear Spike begin to sing to Henry.
"The darkness must go down the river of Night's dreaming," Spike sang softly, kissing the baby's forehead, "Flow Morphia slow. Let the sun and light come streaming into my life..."
Leave it to Spike to think that "Rocky Horror" makes for an appropriate lullaby, Angel smiled to himself.
When Angel had finished cleaning up, Spike was asleep, snoring slightly. Henry, however, was wide awake, making happy little noises. Angel wrapped a towel around his waist and went over to the bed. Picking up the child, he held Henry against his chest. Henry whinged momentarily before settling. Angel let his fingers gently stroke over the baby's fine red hair that Spike kept carefully pushed into a half-hearted faux-hawk. He walked over to the crib, which was situated next to Spike's side of the bed beside his computer desk, and placed the baby inside. Cranking on the mobile with its puffy teddy-bears, Angel hoped Henry would quickly be lulled to sleep.
"Let Spike get a few hours rest, all right?" Angel brushed his thumb over the baby's cheek.
As Angel climbed into bed for a little rest himself, Spike woke with a start, patting the bed as if to search for the baby.
"Henry's in his crib," Angel whispered, kissing Spike's shoulder. "He's safe. Just go back to sleep."
Spike began to protest, wanting to go check on Henry, to assure himself that the boy was safe, but relaxed into Angel's arms and drifted off.
Sometime later, Henry began to whimper, which was all it took for Spike to wake up again. The blonde stretched as he untangled himself from Angel's grip and got up to pad over to the crib in his pajama shorts, a necessity since he was having to venture out of the bedroom at all hours and didn't want to be caught starkers by any innocent eyes.
"What's got you so unhappy, Happy?" Spike reached down to let the baby grasp at his fingers. "Did you miss Daddy?"
Lifting Henry out of the crib, Spike kissed his cheek, hoping to stave off any actual crying. Spike took the baby into the kitchen, passing by all four girls asleep on the couch with the TV still flickering. A light shone out from beneath Connor's door, signaling that the boy had come home and was likely surfing the Internet. After microwaving a bottle of formula and turning off the television set, Spike went back to the bedroom to sit in his comfy chair and give Henry his snack. The boy latched onto the bottle, his cheeks puffing out cutely as he suckled.
Spike was getting used to feeling overwhelmed. He spent most of his time shifting from absolute adoration of Henry and the heart-wrenching terror that he was going to do something to accidentally hurt the baby. Spike had nearly had a panic attack the first time he had to give the boy a bath. Spike was grateful that Angel had been there to show him what to do and to give him confidence to do things on his own. It was much harder to be confident with Angel not around as much. Spike wanted to ask Angel to stay home more, but he thought that would be selfish. Angel was trying so hard to keep them afloat when Spike knew it was his "pet projects" that made it necessary for all the extra expended effort. Spike had also been neglecting the girls and their training, and in doing so had given Connor a responsibility that kept him from enjoying his vacation time away from school. An uncomfortable, guilty feeling hung heavily over Spike, and he felt tugged in so many different directions that it was a miracle he didn't just succumb to spontaneous dismemberment.
"Remember this, Hap," Spike spoke solemnly to the baby, "Responsibility is an awful thing. Avoid it all costs."
Henry was either moved to deep thought by the words, or he was going to spit up.
"I can see that you are truly getting something out of this father-son talk," Spike grabbed one of the burp cloths from the desk in case the kid decided to spew.
For once, it was a false alarm. Henry managed to get his own fingers in his mouth and began to suck on them, blinking owlishly up at Spike with his big hazel eyes.
Spike rocked Henry gently in his arms, "Would you like to hear a song my mum used to sing to me when I was a wee little nipper like you... and even when I was not so wee?"
Henry drifted back to sleep listening to the lilting words, far too young to understand just how forlorn the lyrics about the lamentations of a lovesick maiden were. Holding back a yawn, Spike put the baby in his crib and then got back into bed. Angel's arm instantly wrapped around him, and Spike smiled, comforted knowing that all members of his household were safe and nearby.
To be continued...
Previous Chapters: One :: Two :: Three :: Four :: Five :: Six :: Seven :: Eight :: Nine.
x-posted on nekid_spike.