Compatible Faults 24
More plot than you can shake a stick at! What has Wes been up to while Angel freaks out over Connor?
Warnings: leads to some promise of non-con violent oh no wrongness. Vague hints of incest-thoughts.
Previous Parts in Memories
Chapter 24: Brothers
“Spike, could you meet with me in my office?”
Spike looked up from his place on Angel’s couch with fear in his eyes. Wesley stood calmly in the doorway, hands clasped, not looking at Angel, who was at his desk. Spike looked at Angel. “Uh… that is, will anyone else be there?”
Angel lifted and dropped a piece of paper. He regarded Wes levelly. “I don’t want Spike on the Illyria case anymore,” Angel said. “She’s become attached to him, it’s no longer an objective test.”
“I think that’s my case to judge,” Wesley said, quietly. He was still not looking at Angel.
Spike didn’t know what to do. He sat, literally, on the edge of his seat, waiting for a sign from Angel that he could go.
Angel said, casually, “Did you get the security feed in your office fixed?”
“We’ll meet in Gunn’s office,” Wes said. “If you prefer. I’ll want his feedback on who to choose to take Spike’s place.”
“You. Want to meet with Gunn.”
Spike wanted to smack Wes. Talk about tipping their hand!
But Wesley just turned to Angel, expression unchanged. “As you might imagine, I’ve more acceptance, after yesterday’s events, for Charles doing what he felt he had to at the time.”
There was a long, unbroken stare between Wes and Angel that Spike couldn’t interpret and didn’t want to. He was just glad to be on the other side of the room.
And then, without signal, there was a break. Angel glanced at Spike and nodded. “Okay, you can go.”
Spike wondered that no one found it odd for him to be granted permission like a child, but he nodded to Angel, sure his worried expression hid any relief, and followed Wes. “You really want to meet in Gunn’s office? I mean, is that…”
“Why should it matter where we meet?” Wesley gave him a blank expression that made him feel like an idiot.
Gunn was waiting for them, sat on the corner of his desk tossing a toy basketball from hand to hand, squeezing its foam hard. “How do we do this?” he asked.
Wesley waved Spike ahead of him and closed the door. “It’s already set,” Wesley said, in a gentler voice. “The cameras will show the three of us having the world’s dullest conversation about Illyria.”
Spike looked up immediately at the security camera in the ceiling. “Well, bugger me! Good job, head boy!”
Wesley stepped right past Gunn and pulled a book out of his top drawer. “In exactly twenty minutes, Spike, you have to leave here to match the tape. Gunn, I’ll leave four minutes after him and you will follow me a half-step behind. Just watch me for your cues. Spike, has Angel said anything to you about Connor?”
Spike exchanged a glance with Gunn, both of them feeling caught in the wake of Wesley’s forward charge. “Uh… not really. He mentioned him. Who the fuck is this kid? This isn’t like ‘Omen’, is it?”
“Hardly. Connor is Angel’s son.”
“Son? What? No, that’s bloody impossible. I…”
Gunn shook his head slowly. “You don’t know the half of it. Wes and me, everyone, had Connor erased from their memories. It was Angel. He sold our minds.” Gunn’s brow creased and he looked away.
Wesley whispered into the spine of his book - a creepy action to witness, though Spike was now familiar with the magic books. It was just the mixture of hate and excitement on Wes’s face that made him fear for the former watcher.
“This is the symbol of the Black Thorn Circle. They represent the Senior Partners here on Earth.”
“Wait. How could Angel have a son? He’s a vampire. Kid’s in his teens. Can’t have been before he met Buffy…”
“Angel and Darla conceived a son. We don’t know how, but obviously, there was magic involved. That is all you need to know. Now, the Black Thorn Circle. According to Lindsey McDonald…”
“You talked to Lindsey?”
Wesley gave Spike a withering glare not unlike one of his least-favorite schoolmasters. “We don’t have very long, so please pay attention and be quiet. Angel appears to be looking for entrance into the circle. One price of admittance is to sacrifice someone near to you. Normally, I would assume Angel had some plan, some higher reason for all of this, but given his recent behavior, I believe he very much means to join the Senior Partners and embrace a dark destiny. We have to stop him.“
“You know I’m with you,” Gunn said, “But what the hell can we do? He’s Angel. I mean, unless he isn’t? Anyone check to see if that soul’s gone missing.”
“It’s still there,” Spike said, grimly. “I… once you know what to look for, you can see it.”
“Indeed. Also, I cast a spell to reveal its presence. Angel still has his soul. I’ve also been running every detection spell I can to see if some other presence is affecting him, a compulsion or thrall. I’ve found nothing so far. This isn’t a problem we can simply fix with magic. Gunn, I want you to get Lorne in on this. Try to meet with him someplace public, a bar or club, where surveillance will be harder. Also I want you to start digging through the legal files -try to see if Angel has any outstanding contracts. He could still be compelled by non-magical means. I’ll keep digging into the Black Thorn Circle. Perhaps we can cut Angel off from them, or infiltrate them ourselves.”
Gunn nodded, plans forming in his thoughtful expression.
“Wait,” said Spike, “What do I do?”
Wes grimaced. “I’m sorry to ask this, but it is crucial that Angel be distracted, kept busy so his plans slow down while we learn of them.”
Spike’s shoulders fell in defeat. “You mean you want me to fuck him.”
“Hey!” Gunn winced. “He didn’t mean that.”
“Hardly,” Wes said, smirking at Gunn’s exaggerated expression of pain. “I want you to occupy his mind. Keep him focused on you. I’m sure you have your methods and Charles and I don’t need to hear them.”
“Just stay with him,” Gunn said. “You have a better shot than any of us to see if he’s contacting these people.”
Spike considered methods of increasing the amount of time Angel spent focused on him. None were appealing. But he nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see what I can do.”
Wesley gathered up his book and whispered into the spine again. When he laid it back on the desk it showed the now-familiar portrait of Illyria in her true form. “I don’t have to tell you both that we must be extremely delicate in this. Angel is still our friend. A man I myself owe much to and need forgiveness from. If anything, this is all my fault, for taking Connor in the first place.” He said all this while gazing at the picture of the god-king with agonized thoughtfulness. He raised his head. “We need a sign, a way to pass information confidentially. It has to be in the public areas of the law office. Spike cannot leave the building.”
“We could break one of Harmony’s unicorns?” Gunn suggested.
Wes made a tiny smile, but Spike shook his head. “No. Harm’s sort of on our side. She said she’d hide things from the boss for me, anyway.”
“That’s good news.” Wes nodded. “Very well, let’s keep it simple. If you need to speak to me immediately, leave a Styrofoam coffee cup on Harmony’s desk. I’ll seek you out.”
They nodded, and waited, together, while Wes watched the second hand sweep over his wristwatch and repeated his instructions for leaving the room before his concealing spell faded.
***
Angel was standing at the window when Spike returned to his office. Spike ran a hand over his face and wanted very, very much to leave him there to brood. Let sleeping psychotic hell-hounds lie.
But he stepped up behind Angel, putting his arms around the big guy’s waist. Angel turned his head only slightly to acknowledge him.
“Boring meeting,” Spike said, and kissed Angel’s ear. “Tired of working?”
Angel wriggled out of his hold and turned to frown at him. Spike took a step back. “What? I-“
The door to the office opened.
Without moving his eyes from Spike, Angel said, “Connor. How's your dad?”
Spike spun around to stare at the boy who had just walked in, casual, his hands in his pockets. “He's fine. They're releasing him now. I should warn you, he's pretty pissed. I told him that you took me out demon fighting and, uh, almost got me killed. He wants to have a talk with you.”
“My god,” Spike whispered. The kid had Darla’s chin, hell, her whole lower face, and the same way of tilting his head back with a smile, half insolence, half self-mockery, that anyone but Angel would be able to see meant he was joking.
Angel pushed Spike out of his way, hurrying to approach the boy. “All right. I'll, uh...”
“I'm kidding! Man, you gotta lighten up. He thinks we spent the whole night doing tests. I told him I could bench press, like, 1,000 pounds.” The kid gave a loose shrug and easily stepped around Angel. “Hey, Spike, right?”
“Yeah,” Spike said, feeling like he’d had a piano dropped on his kidneys.
“How’s that blue lady?”
“Uh, she’s fine.” Spike cleared his throat. “So, you’re, uh…” Angel’s son. Spike could smell it, oddly, something Angel-like in the boy’s base-scent, beyond the blood and the sweat of human flesh.
Connor raised his eyebrows expectantly. “I’m?”
Spike opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words to say that weren’t about how young and alive he was, and how Angel had called out his name, at orgasm, and that was the name of his SON he called out.
Angel interrupted the awkward silence. “What are you going to tell them about who you are?”
Connor gave another fluid shrug. “The truth, more or less. I'll tell them that I'm different. I'll tell them it's... actually a good thing. I'll tell them to stop worrying so much.”
Angel’s expression was soft. He looked like he was trying to stop himself from hugging Connor, looming at the very edge of personal space. “Well, they're parents.”
“Maybe I should leave you two alone,” Spike said, voice a little hoarse, and thinking exactly the opposite.
“Naw, it’s cool.” Connor sauntered up to Spike. “So you’re a vampire too, huh? And you work with, uh, Angel?”
It was Connor’s first hint of awkwardness. Spike tilted his head and saw the kid’s nostrils flare briefly, and then his eyes widen.
“It’s more than that,” Spike said. “Angel and me…”
“We really don’t have to talk about this now, Spike,” Angel said, grabbing his arm with more force than necessary.
Connor looked slowly from one to the other. “Anyway... I just wanted to say good-bye. I gotta go back to my life now. So, bye.” Connor waved and headed to the door.
Angel gave Spike a hard look and then released him, hurrying after Connor. “Do you really have to leave? I mean, right now?”
“I kinda think I should. I need to take care of my parents. This isn't their world. They really don't feel safe here.” He looked meaningfully at Angel. “You gotta do what you can to protect your family. I learned that from my father.”
Spike watched with Angel as the young man walked confidently to the elevator. There was something predatory in his gait, and Spike wondered just how much “demon killing” had been done the night before.
And then, with a brief, sly smile, the boy was gone. A sadness fell over Angel’s face that was painful to see. Longing, regret. Spike had felt that emotional cocktail before, and it was a brain-kicker. Angel hung in place, not moving from the door to his office.
Spike coughed. “Wes told me,” he said.
Angel turned. Spike said, “That he’s your son. Connor.” He worried at the unreadable expression before him. “You can tell. I mean, I can. Scent it on him. And his eyes.” There was something, not the color, but the set, very Angel-like about Connor’s eyes. Not that Spike would have noticed - he didn’t notice - without knowing the child’s parentage.
Angel walked back to the windows. “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Spike.” The magically filtered sunlight fell on his face and shoulders like a falcon’s hood.
Spike bit his lip, took one step toward the exit, then changed his mind. “You could have confided in me, you know. I’m not saying I could understand, but I could know. Sometimes it helps, just having someone else who knows.”
“Connor is none of your business.”
“The hell he isn’t.” Spike put his hand on the window and leaned into Angel’s view. “We’re family, aren’t we? Whatever else you and I are, Angel, we were family first.”
Angel turned and narrowed his eyes. “No, Spike. You were a victim, not a son.”
Spike recoiled. “I just want to talk, Angel. You never talk to me anymore; you notice that? Not since -- since we started getting on.”
Angel gave him a flat expression that implied heavily that they hadn’t exactly ‘talked’ much before then, and turned back to contemplating the scenery.
Spike fidgeted. “Darla, then?” Angel made no move, and the silence grew heavy. “Don’t blame you. She was something else, wasn’t she? Don’t think ice would have melted in her mouth - when she was alive, even. But I thought you’d done for the old girl, back in Sunnydale.”
Angel sighed and leaned his head back. “Your friend Lindsey brought her back to life. Made her human. Made her suffer. To torture me and turn me dark.”
“He’s not my friend,” Spike said, quickly and quietly.
“No, he really isn’t.” Angel looked directly at Spike for the first time since Connor had arrived. “He used you, without qualm. And you ran back to him, and he used you again. And you go back to him.” Angel squinted. “Why do you keep going back to him?”
Spike felt his jaw drop, and wondered that it wasn’t on the ground. Angel was looking at him expectantly. “That’s bloody ironic, coming from you,” Spike said at last. “You’re the one I keep coming back to, Angel. Starting to wonder why, with all this jealous bullsh…”
“I know you went to visit him.”
Spike felt all the blood drain from his face. “I - wait, how…?”
“Two hours of your day were unaccounted for. Two hours of security footage were missing. I’m not an idiot, Spike. Who’s helping you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking…” Spike could see the utter failure of his attempt to lie written plain on Angel’s face. He swallowed. His head lowered. Damn it, why did he feel ashamed? “No one helped. I nicked the tapes myself. Threw them in the shredder.”
“I see. And then you washed your hands and crawled into my bed to kiss me with the same mouth you used to suck his cock?”
“No!” Spike felt panic rising. He shoved his hands into his pockets to stop them from shaking. “No. We just talked.”
“For two hours.” Angel looked calm, waiting for an explanation.
“We didn’t do anything. I swear.” Spike felt himself ducking, wincing away from a blow that hadn’t come. “I just wanted to be sure he was okay. For your sake, Angel. Your soul’s sake. Make sure you hadn’t done anything you couldn’t live without.”
“It’s all right. I’m not mad. Just disappointed.”
“Angel, I…”
A hand closed on Spike’s wrist. “But you know I have to punish you.”
Spike stepped back, slipping from Angel’s grip just as it got tighter. “Wait,” he said. “Two hours… I told you true, we just talked, not five minutes even, but you know me, I don’t think, so I grabbed more tape than I needed.”
Angel stayed where he was as Spike retreated across the room, watching patiently.
“So you see, there’s nothing to punish, yeah? Lindsey’s nothing to me. I don’t even know the bloke, do I?”
“Come here,” said Angel.
“Let’s just talk about Connor. You’re obviously hurting, mate. I want to help.”
“Come here,” Angel repeated. “You don’t want me to have to come to you, Spike.”
And with those words, Spike stopped his slow backwards crawl to the door. Almost without volition, he stepped forward.
Angel nodded.
Spike crossed the space and, at a look from Angel, sank to his knees. “All right. Sire. Go ahead; punish me. What do you want me to do?”
Angel’s large hand rested on Spike’s head, forcing it down a little more. “Do you understand why I’m punishing you?”
Spike stopped himself from shaking his head. “I went to see Lindsey.”
“I said you could visit him if you wanted to. Try again.”
Spike licked his lips. “I lied.”
“Why would you want to keep me from knowing you’d gone to visit him, Spike? Tell me the truth.”
“I knew you’d get mad.”
The pressure of Angel’s hand grew, and Spike strained to keep from bowing to the floor. “Now tell me why I’d get mad, if Lindsey means nothing to you and you were only checking up on him ‘for the sake of my soul’.” This last said in an angry, mocking tone.
Spike blinked back tears, angry with himself that he felt guilty, angry that he couldn’t come up with the right words to say. “I don’t know.”
“And again, you’re lying.” Angel pushed down very hard, until Spike’s face was almost touching the carpet, then let go. “Follow me.”
Spike rubbed his neck and turned to see Angel stride purposefully to the office door. “Where are we going?”
Angel pushed both doors open and strode confidently into the hall. “To see your friend,” he said.
“Wait. No, Angel.” Spike jogged to catch up with him. “No one else needs to be involved in this.”
“Yes, Spike.” Angel muttered. “I have no reason to be jealous. Keep convincing me of that.” He hit the button for the elevator and folded his hands behind him.
“That’s not-I- Look, Angel. I don’t have to care for a guy not to want him to end up between me, you, and your jealous rage.”
Angel stepped all the way to the back of the elevator, leaving room for Spike to follow him. Spike held back just a moment.
He let out a shaky breath as the elevator doors closed and Angel didn’t move from his stoic stance.
Spike was pretty sure he should keep quiet, rather than dig himself a new hole, but he just couldn’t stand the silence. “Lindsey will tell you. We didn’t even touch.”
Angel pushed Spike ahead of him out the door as they reached the medical floor.
Spike twisted to try and gauge Angel’s expression. As usual, it was unreadable. “You know he’d tell you if we did. He’d rather piss you off than escape a beating.”
They reached the hospital room where just yesterday Spike had spoken with Lindsey. Unlike Spike, Angel called for the guard, signed in, and had the door unlocked.
Lindsey was on the bed, but he scrambled up as soon as the door opened. He looked from one vampire to the other. Spike’s head was down, his hands moving nervously as he held his arms to himself. Angel looked straight at Lindsey. The door locked behind them.
“Well,” said Lindsey, “isn’t this a fuckin’ surprise. Heard they were going to move me back down to holding?”
Angel shrugged one shoulder. “Can’t have that,” he said. He stepped forward and backhanded Lindsey, sending him sprawling onto the bed. He howled as he landed on his cast.
“He’s human, Angel; you can’t keep doing this to him.”
“Shut up, Spike.” Angel casually approached the bed and picked Lindsey up by his hair.
“You know who else was human?” Lindsey said. Angel punched his face. He shook the pain off. “Holland Manners.”
“Please, Angel,” Spike wrapped his arms around Angel’s bicep, pulling him back before he punched again. “Don’t do this. I’ll do anything you want. You know I will. Let’s just go back to your place.”
Angel dropped Lindsey and twisted to push Spike to the floor. “Yes, Spike,” he said, “You’ll do everything I say.”
Continue on to the punishment -->
Or skip the nasty punishment scene and continue on the plot -->
(Chap. 25 is very violent and nasty and so I've set it up so it can be safely skipped if you wish without losing anything from the plot.)
Warnings: leads to some promise of non-con violent oh no wrongness. Vague hints of incest-thoughts.
Previous Parts in Memories
Chapter 24: Brothers
“Spike, could you meet with me in my office?”
Spike looked up from his place on Angel’s couch with fear in his eyes. Wesley stood calmly in the doorway, hands clasped, not looking at Angel, who was at his desk. Spike looked at Angel. “Uh… that is, will anyone else be there?”
Angel lifted and dropped a piece of paper. He regarded Wes levelly. “I don’t want Spike on the Illyria case anymore,” Angel said. “She’s become attached to him, it’s no longer an objective test.”
“I think that’s my case to judge,” Wesley said, quietly. He was still not looking at Angel.
Spike didn’t know what to do. He sat, literally, on the edge of his seat, waiting for a sign from Angel that he could go.
Angel said, casually, “Did you get the security feed in your office fixed?”
“We’ll meet in Gunn’s office,” Wes said. “If you prefer. I’ll want his feedback on who to choose to take Spike’s place.”
“You. Want to meet with Gunn.”
Spike wanted to smack Wes. Talk about tipping their hand!
But Wesley just turned to Angel, expression unchanged. “As you might imagine, I’ve more acceptance, after yesterday’s events, for Charles doing what he felt he had to at the time.”
There was a long, unbroken stare between Wes and Angel that Spike couldn’t interpret and didn’t want to. He was just glad to be on the other side of the room.
And then, without signal, there was a break. Angel glanced at Spike and nodded. “Okay, you can go.”
Spike wondered that no one found it odd for him to be granted permission like a child, but he nodded to Angel, sure his worried expression hid any relief, and followed Wes. “You really want to meet in Gunn’s office? I mean, is that…”
“Why should it matter where we meet?” Wesley gave him a blank expression that made him feel like an idiot.
Gunn was waiting for them, sat on the corner of his desk tossing a toy basketball from hand to hand, squeezing its foam hard. “How do we do this?” he asked.
Wesley waved Spike ahead of him and closed the door. “It’s already set,” Wesley said, in a gentler voice. “The cameras will show the three of us having the world’s dullest conversation about Illyria.”
Spike looked up immediately at the security camera in the ceiling. “Well, bugger me! Good job, head boy!”
Wesley stepped right past Gunn and pulled a book out of his top drawer. “In exactly twenty minutes, Spike, you have to leave here to match the tape. Gunn, I’ll leave four minutes after him and you will follow me a half-step behind. Just watch me for your cues. Spike, has Angel said anything to you about Connor?”
Spike exchanged a glance with Gunn, both of them feeling caught in the wake of Wesley’s forward charge. “Uh… not really. He mentioned him. Who the fuck is this kid? This isn’t like ‘Omen’, is it?”
“Hardly. Connor is Angel’s son.”
“Son? What? No, that’s bloody impossible. I…”
Gunn shook his head slowly. “You don’t know the half of it. Wes and me, everyone, had Connor erased from their memories. It was Angel. He sold our minds.” Gunn’s brow creased and he looked away.
Wesley whispered into the spine of his book - a creepy action to witness, though Spike was now familiar with the magic books. It was just the mixture of hate and excitement on Wes’s face that made him fear for the former watcher.
“This is the symbol of the Black Thorn Circle. They represent the Senior Partners here on Earth.”
“Wait. How could Angel have a son? He’s a vampire. Kid’s in his teens. Can’t have been before he met Buffy…”
“Angel and Darla conceived a son. We don’t know how, but obviously, there was magic involved. That is all you need to know. Now, the Black Thorn Circle. According to Lindsey McDonald…”
“You talked to Lindsey?”
Wesley gave Spike a withering glare not unlike one of his least-favorite schoolmasters. “We don’t have very long, so please pay attention and be quiet. Angel appears to be looking for entrance into the circle. One price of admittance is to sacrifice someone near to you. Normally, I would assume Angel had some plan, some higher reason for all of this, but given his recent behavior, I believe he very much means to join the Senior Partners and embrace a dark destiny. We have to stop him.“
“You know I’m with you,” Gunn said, “But what the hell can we do? He’s Angel. I mean, unless he isn’t? Anyone check to see if that soul’s gone missing.”
“It’s still there,” Spike said, grimly. “I… once you know what to look for, you can see it.”
“Indeed. Also, I cast a spell to reveal its presence. Angel still has his soul. I’ve also been running every detection spell I can to see if some other presence is affecting him, a compulsion or thrall. I’ve found nothing so far. This isn’t a problem we can simply fix with magic. Gunn, I want you to get Lorne in on this. Try to meet with him someplace public, a bar or club, where surveillance will be harder. Also I want you to start digging through the legal files -try to see if Angel has any outstanding contracts. He could still be compelled by non-magical means. I’ll keep digging into the Black Thorn Circle. Perhaps we can cut Angel off from them, or infiltrate them ourselves.”
Gunn nodded, plans forming in his thoughtful expression.
“Wait,” said Spike, “What do I do?”
Wes grimaced. “I’m sorry to ask this, but it is crucial that Angel be distracted, kept busy so his plans slow down while we learn of them.”
Spike’s shoulders fell in defeat. “You mean you want me to fuck him.”
“Hey!” Gunn winced. “He didn’t mean that.”
“Hardly,” Wes said, smirking at Gunn’s exaggerated expression of pain. “I want you to occupy his mind. Keep him focused on you. I’m sure you have your methods and Charles and I don’t need to hear them.”
“Just stay with him,” Gunn said. “You have a better shot than any of us to see if he’s contacting these people.”
Spike considered methods of increasing the amount of time Angel spent focused on him. None were appealing. But he nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see what I can do.”
Wesley gathered up his book and whispered into the spine again. When he laid it back on the desk it showed the now-familiar portrait of Illyria in her true form. “I don’t have to tell you both that we must be extremely delicate in this. Angel is still our friend. A man I myself owe much to and need forgiveness from. If anything, this is all my fault, for taking Connor in the first place.” He said all this while gazing at the picture of the god-king with agonized thoughtfulness. He raised his head. “We need a sign, a way to pass information confidentially. It has to be in the public areas of the law office. Spike cannot leave the building.”
“We could break one of Harmony’s unicorns?” Gunn suggested.
Wes made a tiny smile, but Spike shook his head. “No. Harm’s sort of on our side. She said she’d hide things from the boss for me, anyway.”
“That’s good news.” Wes nodded. “Very well, let’s keep it simple. If you need to speak to me immediately, leave a Styrofoam coffee cup on Harmony’s desk. I’ll seek you out.”
They nodded, and waited, together, while Wes watched the second hand sweep over his wristwatch and repeated his instructions for leaving the room before his concealing spell faded.
***
Angel was standing at the window when Spike returned to his office. Spike ran a hand over his face and wanted very, very much to leave him there to brood. Let sleeping psychotic hell-hounds lie.
But he stepped up behind Angel, putting his arms around the big guy’s waist. Angel turned his head only slightly to acknowledge him.
“Boring meeting,” Spike said, and kissed Angel’s ear. “Tired of working?”
Angel wriggled out of his hold and turned to frown at him. Spike took a step back. “What? I-“
The door to the office opened.
Without moving his eyes from Spike, Angel said, “Connor. How's your dad?”
Spike spun around to stare at the boy who had just walked in, casual, his hands in his pockets. “He's fine. They're releasing him now. I should warn you, he's pretty pissed. I told him that you took me out demon fighting and, uh, almost got me killed. He wants to have a talk with you.”
“My god,” Spike whispered. The kid had Darla’s chin, hell, her whole lower face, and the same way of tilting his head back with a smile, half insolence, half self-mockery, that anyone but Angel would be able to see meant he was joking.
Angel pushed Spike out of his way, hurrying to approach the boy. “All right. I'll, uh...”
“I'm kidding! Man, you gotta lighten up. He thinks we spent the whole night doing tests. I told him I could bench press, like, 1,000 pounds.” The kid gave a loose shrug and easily stepped around Angel. “Hey, Spike, right?”
“Yeah,” Spike said, feeling like he’d had a piano dropped on his kidneys.
“How’s that blue lady?”
“Uh, she’s fine.” Spike cleared his throat. “So, you’re, uh…” Angel’s son. Spike could smell it, oddly, something Angel-like in the boy’s base-scent, beyond the blood and the sweat of human flesh.
Connor raised his eyebrows expectantly. “I’m?”
Spike opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words to say that weren’t about how young and alive he was, and how Angel had called out his name, at orgasm, and that was the name of his SON he called out.
Angel interrupted the awkward silence. “What are you going to tell them about who you are?”
Connor gave another fluid shrug. “The truth, more or less. I'll tell them that I'm different. I'll tell them it's... actually a good thing. I'll tell them to stop worrying so much.”
Angel’s expression was soft. He looked like he was trying to stop himself from hugging Connor, looming at the very edge of personal space. “Well, they're parents.”
“Maybe I should leave you two alone,” Spike said, voice a little hoarse, and thinking exactly the opposite.
“Naw, it’s cool.” Connor sauntered up to Spike. “So you’re a vampire too, huh? And you work with, uh, Angel?”
It was Connor’s first hint of awkwardness. Spike tilted his head and saw the kid’s nostrils flare briefly, and then his eyes widen.
“It’s more than that,” Spike said. “Angel and me…”
“We really don’t have to talk about this now, Spike,” Angel said, grabbing his arm with more force than necessary.
Connor looked slowly from one to the other. “Anyway... I just wanted to say good-bye. I gotta go back to my life now. So, bye.” Connor waved and headed to the door.
Angel gave Spike a hard look and then released him, hurrying after Connor. “Do you really have to leave? I mean, right now?”
“I kinda think I should. I need to take care of my parents. This isn't their world. They really don't feel safe here.” He looked meaningfully at Angel. “You gotta do what you can to protect your family. I learned that from my father.”
Spike watched with Angel as the young man walked confidently to the elevator. There was something predatory in his gait, and Spike wondered just how much “demon killing” had been done the night before.
And then, with a brief, sly smile, the boy was gone. A sadness fell over Angel’s face that was painful to see. Longing, regret. Spike had felt that emotional cocktail before, and it was a brain-kicker. Angel hung in place, not moving from the door to his office.
Spike coughed. “Wes told me,” he said.
Angel turned. Spike said, “That he’s your son. Connor.” He worried at the unreadable expression before him. “You can tell. I mean, I can. Scent it on him. And his eyes.” There was something, not the color, but the set, very Angel-like about Connor’s eyes. Not that Spike would have noticed - he didn’t notice - without knowing the child’s parentage.
Angel walked back to the windows. “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Spike.” The magically filtered sunlight fell on his face and shoulders like a falcon’s hood.
Spike bit his lip, took one step toward the exit, then changed his mind. “You could have confided in me, you know. I’m not saying I could understand, but I could know. Sometimes it helps, just having someone else who knows.”
“Connor is none of your business.”
“The hell he isn’t.” Spike put his hand on the window and leaned into Angel’s view. “We’re family, aren’t we? Whatever else you and I are, Angel, we were family first.”
Angel turned and narrowed his eyes. “No, Spike. You were a victim, not a son.”
Spike recoiled. “I just want to talk, Angel. You never talk to me anymore; you notice that? Not since -- since we started getting on.”
Angel gave him a flat expression that implied heavily that they hadn’t exactly ‘talked’ much before then, and turned back to contemplating the scenery.
Spike fidgeted. “Darla, then?” Angel made no move, and the silence grew heavy. “Don’t blame you. She was something else, wasn’t she? Don’t think ice would have melted in her mouth - when she was alive, even. But I thought you’d done for the old girl, back in Sunnydale.”
Angel sighed and leaned his head back. “Your friend Lindsey brought her back to life. Made her human. Made her suffer. To torture me and turn me dark.”
“He’s not my friend,” Spike said, quickly and quietly.
“No, he really isn’t.” Angel looked directly at Spike for the first time since Connor had arrived. “He used you, without qualm. And you ran back to him, and he used you again. And you go back to him.” Angel squinted. “Why do you keep going back to him?”
Spike felt his jaw drop, and wondered that it wasn’t on the ground. Angel was looking at him expectantly. “That’s bloody ironic, coming from you,” Spike said at last. “You’re the one I keep coming back to, Angel. Starting to wonder why, with all this jealous bullsh…”
“I know you went to visit him.”
Spike felt all the blood drain from his face. “I - wait, how…?”
“Two hours of your day were unaccounted for. Two hours of security footage were missing. I’m not an idiot, Spike. Who’s helping you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking…” Spike could see the utter failure of his attempt to lie written plain on Angel’s face. He swallowed. His head lowered. Damn it, why did he feel ashamed? “No one helped. I nicked the tapes myself. Threw them in the shredder.”
“I see. And then you washed your hands and crawled into my bed to kiss me with the same mouth you used to suck his cock?”
“No!” Spike felt panic rising. He shoved his hands into his pockets to stop them from shaking. “No. We just talked.”
“For two hours.” Angel looked calm, waiting for an explanation.
“We didn’t do anything. I swear.” Spike felt himself ducking, wincing away from a blow that hadn’t come. “I just wanted to be sure he was okay. For your sake, Angel. Your soul’s sake. Make sure you hadn’t done anything you couldn’t live without.”
“It’s all right. I’m not mad. Just disappointed.”
“Angel, I…”
A hand closed on Spike’s wrist. “But you know I have to punish you.”
Spike stepped back, slipping from Angel’s grip just as it got tighter. “Wait,” he said. “Two hours… I told you true, we just talked, not five minutes even, but you know me, I don’t think, so I grabbed more tape than I needed.”
Angel stayed where he was as Spike retreated across the room, watching patiently.
“So you see, there’s nothing to punish, yeah? Lindsey’s nothing to me. I don’t even know the bloke, do I?”
“Come here,” said Angel.
“Let’s just talk about Connor. You’re obviously hurting, mate. I want to help.”
“Come here,” Angel repeated. “You don’t want me to have to come to you, Spike.”
And with those words, Spike stopped his slow backwards crawl to the door. Almost without volition, he stepped forward.
Angel nodded.
Spike crossed the space and, at a look from Angel, sank to his knees. “All right. Sire. Go ahead; punish me. What do you want me to do?”
Angel’s large hand rested on Spike’s head, forcing it down a little more. “Do you understand why I’m punishing you?”
Spike stopped himself from shaking his head. “I went to see Lindsey.”
“I said you could visit him if you wanted to. Try again.”
Spike licked his lips. “I lied.”
“Why would you want to keep me from knowing you’d gone to visit him, Spike? Tell me the truth.”
“I knew you’d get mad.”
The pressure of Angel’s hand grew, and Spike strained to keep from bowing to the floor. “Now tell me why I’d get mad, if Lindsey means nothing to you and you were only checking up on him ‘for the sake of my soul’.” This last said in an angry, mocking tone.
Spike blinked back tears, angry with himself that he felt guilty, angry that he couldn’t come up with the right words to say. “I don’t know.”
“And again, you’re lying.” Angel pushed down very hard, until Spike’s face was almost touching the carpet, then let go. “Follow me.”
Spike rubbed his neck and turned to see Angel stride purposefully to the office door. “Where are we going?”
Angel pushed both doors open and strode confidently into the hall. “To see your friend,” he said.
“Wait. No, Angel.” Spike jogged to catch up with him. “No one else needs to be involved in this.”
“Yes, Spike.” Angel muttered. “I have no reason to be jealous. Keep convincing me of that.” He hit the button for the elevator and folded his hands behind him.
“That’s not-I- Look, Angel. I don’t have to care for a guy not to want him to end up between me, you, and your jealous rage.”
Angel stepped all the way to the back of the elevator, leaving room for Spike to follow him. Spike held back just a moment.
He let out a shaky breath as the elevator doors closed and Angel didn’t move from his stoic stance.
Spike was pretty sure he should keep quiet, rather than dig himself a new hole, but he just couldn’t stand the silence. “Lindsey will tell you. We didn’t even touch.”
Angel pushed Spike ahead of him out the door as they reached the medical floor.
Spike twisted to try and gauge Angel’s expression. As usual, it was unreadable. “You know he’d tell you if we did. He’d rather piss you off than escape a beating.”
They reached the hospital room where just yesterday Spike had spoken with Lindsey. Unlike Spike, Angel called for the guard, signed in, and had the door unlocked.
Lindsey was on the bed, but he scrambled up as soon as the door opened. He looked from one vampire to the other. Spike’s head was down, his hands moving nervously as he held his arms to himself. Angel looked straight at Lindsey. The door locked behind them.
“Well,” said Lindsey, “isn’t this a fuckin’ surprise. Heard they were going to move me back down to holding?”
Angel shrugged one shoulder. “Can’t have that,” he said. He stepped forward and backhanded Lindsey, sending him sprawling onto the bed. He howled as he landed on his cast.
“He’s human, Angel; you can’t keep doing this to him.”
“Shut up, Spike.” Angel casually approached the bed and picked Lindsey up by his hair.
“You know who else was human?” Lindsey said. Angel punched his face. He shook the pain off. “Holland Manners.”
“Please, Angel,” Spike wrapped his arms around Angel’s bicep, pulling him back before he punched again. “Don’t do this. I’ll do anything you want. You know I will. Let’s just go back to your place.”
Angel dropped Lindsey and twisted to push Spike to the floor. “Yes, Spike,” he said, “You’ll do everything I say.”
Continue on to the punishment -->
Or skip the nasty punishment scene and continue on the plot -->
(Chap. 25 is very violent and nasty and so I've set it up so it can be safely skipped if you wish without losing anything from the plot.)