Title: Dead Man's Sunset
Pairing: Spangel
Rating: M
Summary: Spike lives with Giles and they are best friends. Giles notices that Spike is still in love with Angel and with the help of another ex-watcher they help the two vampires find love.
Giles leaned against the open patio door and watched the sunset from his seventeenth story view on the east end. The large balcony had an iron case patio set that was frequently used by both himself and his roommate, Spike.
The warm color of red, yellow and orange cast a breathtaking picture and Giles sighed as he lit his fag and drank in the sight.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he whispered as he stood up straight and walked over to the vampire sitting down and silently taking everything in.
Spike remained motionless beside him as Giles watched the color change from light to dark. It had become a ritual between the two friends; Watching each sunset together in silence.
Before Spike had moved in, Giles had never appreciated the sunset before. He, like all people, took the beauty of the sun for granted. Being around Spike’s silent worship of the light had made Giles become more appreciative of the world around him.
For the next twenty minutes the two British men sat there smoking their fags as they watched the warm colors shimmer and glow. Giles, from time to time, would turn to look at his friend. It was at these moments that Giles was reminded that the man that sat next to him had lost the sun for two hundred years. He could see as the warm color graced a glow on Spike’s handsome face that the vampire looked even younger then he usually did. It was in these small moments each day that Giles could swear he could actually see Spike’s soul.
Spike kept his eyes open through it all, never looking away from the view. At times Giles would reach out and touch Spike’s hand. He squeezed it once before letting go. Spike knew as well as Giles did that their friendship was a first for both of them and in these tiny moments Giles knew he was blessed.
When the finally bit of red disappeared and the world become dark and blue, Spike turned to his friend and cleared his throat before speaking.
“Thank you, Giles,” he said standing up and walking over to the patio door.
Giles remembers the first time Spike thanked him and he’d asked why.
Spike stopped but kept his back to his dear friend, “for being the only person in my existence to share beauty with me in silence.”
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Angel looked out the widow as he rubbed his large hand on the back of his neck, before looking back at the files in front of him.
He had just had a long meeting with Duke Alpart, a high demon lord of the Desucka clan and as always he felt emotional drained.
What was he doing here, in this evil company that traded favors with the devil for a slice of power? Was he anything more than another clone of Lucifer? Was he making any changes at all in this place?
He felt lost.
Angel sighed in frustration and pushed the files away in disgusted. His office felt like a tomb and for the first time since escaping his coffin Angel felt the need for air. Even being in that metal coffin under the sea hadn’t compared to the closed in feeling he felt at this moment.
‘What am I doing here?’ He asked himself as he got up from his office chair and stared out the window.
I need to get out.
He felt a dread course through him and had to force himself from not jumping out the window to meet the sun.
“Angel,” he heard someone say quietly behind him. He turned around to see Wesley standing by the door watching him with concern.
“Yes, Wes, what is it?” he asked stuffing his shaky hands in his pocket in attempt to appear calm.
Wesley took a step forward and tilted his head as he silently examined his boss.
“You ok?” he asked moving into Angel’s personal space and touching the vampire’s shoulder. The gentle touch broke down all Angel’s walls and he leaned into the touch.
“What are we doing here, Wes?” he asked. His eyes closed as he tried desperately to feel the warmth of that touch through his whole body.
Wesley nodded his head and understood immediately what the vampire was saying.
“We’re working within the system to stop what we can’t outside of it.” He said keeping his hand on Angel’s shoulder.
Angel snorted, “Yeah, sounds good on paper but…”he said trailing off.
Wes nodded his head as he took a step away and sat on the large leather chair beside him.
“We are doing some good here, Angel,” he said opening his briefcase and looking through his files.
“Really,” Angel said raising an eyebrow, “because I don’t see it.”
Wesley nodded slowly and brought out a deep red folder from his brief case, “Angel, sit down,” he said pointing to the chair next to him.
Angel slowly sat down looking at the folder questioningly.
Wesley opened it with a small smile on his face, “Since we have been here I have been filling this folder with letters,” he said as he handed it to Angel.
“Letters,” Angel asked as he took the red folder and looked at the first page inside.
Taped to the side of the letter was a picture of a young five year old girl. She was smiling as she tugged on one of her bright blond pigtails. She reminded Angel for a brief moment of a tiny Buffy.
It was dated two months ago and on the top of the letter written in bright blue crayon were the words.
‘Angel, My Hero.’
Angel looked up at Wes with a question in his eyes.
“Remember two months ago when we stopped the massive ritual sacrifice that the Lucka Demons do every year.” Wes asked as he smiled down at the picture.
Angel slowly nodded as he vaguely remembered the incident.
Wesley pointed to the little girl, “Her and her entire family was saved by you that day.” Wes said as he smiled up at Angel.
Angel looked back down at the young girl’s smiling face and couldn’t help but smile back.
“It may seem like we’re doing nothing and that we have sold our souls but…Angel never forget.” Wes said as he took the folder and placed it on the vampire’s desk so he could look at it later.
“Don’t forget what, Wes?” he asked keeping his eyes on the deep red folder.
“That you’re a true hero,” Wes said as he stood up. He picked up his brief case and walked over to the office doors. He turned and smiled at his friend.
“And you’re mine too.” He said and then walked out; the reports he was going to hand in could wait.
Angel looked over at the folder and touched the top almost reverently. Maybe Wes was right, maybe they were doing some good here after all.
The night after Giles and Wesley spoke on the phone; Spike came home earlier from his nightly patrol of the cemeteries. He’d quickly drained three full beers and dived for the telly remote.
“Ready for some mindless entertainment, Rupes?” he called out as Giles brought a cup of tea in from the kitchen.
“You mean watching you flip through every channel I have, while I try to block out the sound all night.” He replied as he sat down and sighed in relaxation.
Spike shrugged and curled his feet in behind him, “You say slayer, I say bitch-it’s all the same shite.”
“Spike,” Giles said with a sigh but let it go with the next breathe.
Spike snickered and began to flip through the channel in a super speeded that made Giles crossed eyed.
When Spike had first moved in, Giles had hated the way his friend would flip back and forth between one channel and the next, but like all things in life, Giles got use to it.
Tonight, Spike was watching three different shows at once and Giles had become quite the expert of picking up main plots and story lines at a faster pace.
When Spike opened his fourth bottle, Giles took a deep breathe and glanced sideways at him.
Giles knew it was time to test the waters and was a little nervous about it all. He wasn’t sure how Spike would take the news of Angel coming to the art galley. In fact, Giles was considering not telling the vampire at all.
“You know,” he said as casual as possible, “you never did tell me how it ended between you and Angel?” Giles asked as Spike flipped through the channels. Okay, when Giles said test the water it usually meant he’d bollocks up and dove right in.
Spike’s thumb stopped pushing the buttons on the remote and his whole body tensed up. His eyes never left the screen and the colors of fake lights on the TV splashed against his pale skin.
In the background Giles could hear loud clapping and laughter. He sat there watching Spike for a full minute, before he decided that the vampire was going to ignore the question
He was about to push it, when all of a sudden Spike began to talk.
“I hate those laugh tracks they have on TV shows,” Spike said, his eyes never leaving the screen in front of them, “Once you notice it, it ruins everything.”
Giles glanced at the TV and nodded his head impatiently. The last thing Giles wanted to talk about was the telly.
“Once you hear the phony laughter and forced clapping of a fake audience, you can’t stand watching the show anymore.” Spike remarked absently as he watched the show.
Giles froze and became transfixed on Spike’s words. His friend’s tone of voice had suddenly become lifeless and monotone.
“All the jokes,” Spike went on, “even the plots themselves lose their value. It becomes nothing but bad actors, artificial lights and horribly written lines.”
Giles watched the vampire’s eyes; they weren’t watching a single image in front of him, but simply staring off into the direction of the screen. In Spike’s irises he could see the reflection of the actors living a fake life, but other then that, their wasn’t a hint of life in there.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Spike pretending to watch the show as Giles watched the reflection in the other man’s eyes.
The sound of fake laughter and loud, obnoxious clapping caused Giles to look away from the vampire and stare at the screen in disgust.
Spike glanced at him sideways and gave him a look that said, ‘see what I mean.”
“Nothing but lies, fake laughter and love.”
Giles almost missed the muttered words from Spike but thanked the gods he had.
Giles heart plummeted and he shuffled in his seat to get comfortable. He reached out to grab his cup of tea and held it in both hands. The feel of the hot china against his skin always seemed to calm him.
“You know,” The ex-watcher said after he took a small sip, “Just because someone tries to pretend to like something after they lost the ability to enjoy it, that doesn’t mean everything about the “show” has lost its value.”
Spike frowned and stopped flipping channels when it reached a nature show on sharks. He leaned back and watched a Great White dive in and out of the water.
“Once you hate it,” Spike said before draining the last of his fourth beer, “nothing about it holds your interest. Everything about it becomes unwanted.”
Giles shook his head, “Spike,” he sighed, “You know when Angel lost his soul and left-it was because he didn’t want to be a killer anymore. I’m positive it had nothing to do with how he felt about you.”
Spike’s shoulders tensed and before Giles knew what was happening; the remote was flung against the wall and smashed into pieces.
“Who the hell said we were talking about Angel?!” Spike snarled as he jumped up and stormed out of the room.
Giles watched a great white shark rip a small seal in half, and looked away from the gruesome image. It seemed the waters were still a little to fearsome to swim in.
He picked up the cordless phone, the one he’d purchased in the afternoon, and dialed a single number he’d recently memorized.
He listened for the familiar voice.
“Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.”
“Wes, I believe telling Spike is a mistake.”
Wesley was silent, a reaction Giles now expected when ever talking to the other man.
“I assume,” Wesley said a few moments later, “that Angel and I will be a huge surprise to Spike on the night of the opening then?”
Giles leaned the phone against his shoulder and his cheek. He placed his cup in both hands and placed it underneath his nose. He let the heat calm him.
“That's correct. I think-I think it’s the only way.”
Wesley was silent once more, and Giles took the time to take a few sips of his tea.
“Wait,” Giles said when Wesley’s words finally hit him, “does that mean that Angel has already agreed to come?”
Giles could swear he heard Wesley snort before he replied, “yeah, he agreed.”
Giles whistled, “It couldn’t have been easy.”
Wesley sighed and Giles got more comfortable as he listened to the other man tell him about his day.
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“There is NO WAY I’m going, Wes!”
Wesley ran a hand through his hair and took off his glasses in the process.
“Angel, you told me yesterday that he meant everything to you. No matter how much time has pasted, feelings like that don’t just disappear.”
“And what if I told you that I don’t want to look back, Wesley? What if I’m ready to say the past is the past and leave it as that.”
Wesley looked past Angel and narrowed his eyes in the direction of the drawers on the left side of Angel’s desk. Everyone on the team knew he kept a sketch pad in there; and if Wesley was right---
He raced past Angel and opened up the drawer, grabbing the sketch pad.
He held it out as Angel made a grab for it.
“If I was to look in here, what would I find, Angel?”
Angel folded his hands and glared, “You have no right!”
“No right?!” Wesley hissed, “I see my friend, one of the dearest in my life, slowly expecting something he doesn’t have to. Everyday I see him lose hope and believe that he deserves no better. But I’m here to tell you as your friend that I have every right! I believe in you, I believe that you deserve love, and if that’s Spike, then god damn it. I’m going to drag your dead arse all the way to London and make you face your bloody demons!”
He threw the sketch pad at Angel. It fluttered to the floor and the first page unrevealed itself. Staring back at Wesley was a portrait of a young man with his head thrown back with laughter.
At the bottom, written in Angel’s hand was...
“My William.”
Wesley looked up at Angel who was still looking down at the drawing.
“Don’t tell me you want to say goodbye to the past, Angel.”
The vampire’s eyes rose to met his and they held so much fear that Wesley wanted to stop pushing and tell him it was okay. But he knew that placing a bandage on this gapping wound would do nothing.
No, Wesley knew he had to make him bleed; it was the only way to clean the wound and help Angel heal.
“Because all you’re doing is running away!” Wesley hissed, “Look at you, Angel, you’re terrified of living and you know damn well what talking to Spike will do to you. I can see it in your eyes, Angel. He…,” Wesley said pointing down at the portrait, “is the only thing that makes your eyes fill with life, and for god sakes Angel, YOU DO DESEVRE TO LIVE!”
Angel leaned down and picked up the sketch pad. His eyes were transfixed on the face, so much so, that it looked as if Angel was waiting for the moment the drawing would come to life and fill the room with laughter.
“Well, Angel-are you ready to stop being scared?”
Angel didn’t look up from the sketch pad as he slowly nodded his head yes.
Spike stared at the two outfits that were laid out in front of him and shook his head in disgust. What the hell was wrong with him, when had he become the type of man that contemplated what to wear out?
He pulled the light green towel tighter around his hips as he looked from one outfit to the other.
‘Just pick one, you gob,’ he thought to himself as he ripped off his towel.
On the right was his usual black jeans, black t-shirt combo that he had been wearing for years. To the left, an outfit he had bought a few months ago. It had been a spur of the moment decision to buy the outfit and he’d never really had the courage to put it on.
The silk blue dress shirt and Armani black slacks screamed of a change he knew he was ready for, but was still scared to make. Spike had been stuck in the same style so long that it was apart of who he was, but then-the truth was, the angry, careless punk he was only five years ago, before the chip and soul, was gone.
At first, he thought the soul hadn’t changed him, but as time went on, Spike began to notice the huge changes within.
That wasn’t to say he William Pratt again, but he certainly wasn’t the Slayer of slayers, hell, he didn’t even feel like ‘Spike’ these days-no, he was becoming something different-someone who felt more like what he’d once dreamed he’d never become.
When he was human, William use to dream of being a great man that lived for his art, a man that was respected and had good friends, a William that was bold, and could stand up for himself and his friends, a man that could be loved.
Maybe Spike wasn’t all he hoped he could be, but he felt he was getting closer and closer to that image.
He ran a hand through his freshly dyed dirty blonde hair as his other hand touched the fine silk of the shirt. Spike had changed during his time with Giles, maybe even before that, and the black on black just didn’t feel right any longer.
He knew it was time to stop pretending, stop trying to be something he was not. He may not say it out loud, but maybe a new outfit would say what he couldn’t with words.
After he got dressed in his new clothes, he turned on the webcam on his laptop and looked at the video feed. He clicked on the full screen and raised an eyebrow at the young man staring back at him.
He looked at his image and felt every bit the ensouled vampire he had fought to become. He raised his collar and undid the first two buttons. He looked good, and felt it too.
The closer he got to the screen the more he could see how the blue shirt brought out not only his eyes, but the scar on his neck. He rubbed the ever present mark and purred at the tingles it created. Even after two hundred years Angel’s mark still affected him.
When he saw the image of himself stroking the scar he quickly stopped and slammed the laptop shut.
He wasn’t going to think of Angel today. For once, Spike was going to just simply enjoy the present.
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Angel nervously played with his platinum cufflinks as he watched the limo drive through old familiar streets. It had been too many years since he’d last visited London, but as much as things changed, some things never did. Angel was surprised, but being back in London felt like coming back home.
He heard a sigh from the seat next to him and turned to face Wesley. The ex-watcher was staring out the window with the same expression Angel just had.
They both felt it, they both felt at home here.
“Wes.”
Angel chuckled at the way Wesley jumped at hearing his own name. It seemed the ex-watcher had been so lost in his own thoughts he’d forgotten he was there.
“Yes, Angel,” Wesley said as he straightened out his suit.
Angel opened his mouth to speak but stopped short when Wesley pointed to his hands.
He looked down and noticed he was still nervously fiddling with his cufflinks. He quickly stopped and folded his hands in his lap.
Wesley gave him an amused smile, “you seem nervous, Angel.”
Angel clenched his hands into fists to stop from touching his cufflinks again, “I don’t know if I can do this--see him again.”
Wesley reached out and grabbed his hand, “…but you came anyways. That’s a big step, Angel. And because you agreed, a part of you must be ready.”
Angel shook his head, “Wes, your faith in me is…” Angel trailed off as they stopped at a red light and something out of the corner of his eye grabbed his attention.
Across the street a couple walked hand in hand. Their shoulders were touching and the man had his head raised to the sky as he laughed whole heartedly at something his lover said. Angel touched the window as if the simple action would help him become apart of their moment. He kept his eyes on them as the limo started moving again and noted that all he had achieved was feeling the cold night air against his palm. He clenched his hand into a fist and closed his eyes tightly.
“Angel?” Wesley asked, the concern in his voice was clear to anyone listening in.
“Fuck,” he cursed and softly pounded his fist on the glass once. He could feel and hear Wes move closer but kept still. With his eyes still closed he took a deep breath and then let it out slowly.
“Did you know that most vampires celebrate their death day?” He asked opening his eyes and turning to look at Wesley.
Wesley was confused by the sudden change of topic, but simply shook his head, “no, I didn’t, Angel.”
Angel nodded his head and looked back out the window. He placed his hand back on the window and let the cold spread through his palm.
“I haven’t celebrated it since I got my soul, but before when I was…” he stopped and shivered as if saying the name Angelus would make the demon inside of him reappear.
“By my sixtieth death day, I didn’t really make a big deal out of it anymore. I had expected a small party that Darla would have pre-arranged. No doubt all the higher members of the top vampire clans would attend. It was how all powerful vampires that were close in blood with clan masters celebrated the day.”
Wesley pushed away his excitement as he listened to Angel talk. He’d never dreamed that vampire clans were so organized and for a split second, he let himself be appalled by the lack of information the watcher’s council had on the demons they hunted.
“It had been cold and rainy that night,” Angel continued, “and I remember that I was rushing home, I wasn’t rushing to get to the party-no, it was because of the seven year old vampire bleeding in my arms…
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“Talk to me, baby,” Angelus said as he ran faster, “I want to hear that beautiful voice.”
He looked down and winced at the badly beaten face of his love and clenched his jaw. Angelus didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t have gotten there in time.
Tonight was the first time Angelus had let his childe hunt on his own. A week of begging from William had broken down Angelus’s resolve. He’d gone against his better judgment and given into William, a common theme between them, one that Angelus knew no cure for.
When Darla had found out she had demanded Angelus go after William.
“You know the risks, Angelus, and his dust will be on your head if anything happens!”
Her words had shook Angelus to his core and he knew instantly how true they were.
The Auerilus were a large clan and rival clans, like the Sumlans, would dust William in a second if they were given a chance. William was the beloved childe of Angelus, the heir to the Auerilus thorn, and his death would start a war between their families. A war the Sumlans were just inching to start.
“Go find him NOW!” His sire had roared and Angelus had run out of the lair as if the sun was chasing him down.
It had only taken fifteen minutes to find his childe. Angel remembers howling in fury at the sight which greeted him. His William was being repeatedly kicked in the head by a high member of the Sumlans clan.
Before Angelus even realized he had moved, he’d snapped the vampire’s neck in two. The dust of the vampire was still danced around him as he leaned down and examined his love’s wounds.
William had cuts and bruises everywhere and for the first time since Angelus had been turned, he let tears fall freely from his eyes….
-----------------------------
“Wait, Sorry to stop you there,” Wesley said as he interrupted Angel’s story.
The vampire shook his head as if trying to push away his past so he could see Wesley in the present.
“What is it, Wes?”
“It just that I’m positive that I knew all of the major vampire clans around the world-but, I’m unfamiliar with the Sumlans. Were they a lower clan?”
Angel shook his head, “Not really, at that time they were an up and coming player in the demon world.”
Wesley’s brow furrowed, “What happened to them then, why have I never heard of them?”
Angel eyes turned gold and he snarled, “Because the moment they laid a hand on my William I got rid of them.”
Wesley unconsciously shuffled in his seat, “go rid of them?”
Angel’s lips curled into a smirk, one that made him look pure Angelus, “yes, ever last Sumlans in this world.”
Wesley’s body tensed up as he carefully stated, “Well, that is explains why...”
Angel’s eyes slowly faded back to brown, “sorry, it was a time of war, Wesley…but destroying that clan is something I feel no remorse over.”
Wesley's muscles relaxed as he considered Angel’s words, “No, I gather you wouldn’t.”
They sat in silence for a minute before Wesley asked him if he wanted to continue his story.
Angel glanced down at his cufflinks and shrugged his shoulders.
“As I ran back to the lair,” he said, “I pleaded with the powers to keep my William alive…
Angelus shivered and held his boy tighter as he got closer to the mansion. William still hadn’t opened his eyes and he tried to remain as calm as he could.
He knew as he got to the doors of the estate that the party for his death day was just about to start. There were hordes of vampires around the entrance and many inside the lair.
He ignored them all as he ran as fast as he could to the main bedroom.
On his way up the stairs he barked orders at minions to draw a bath and get dressings for their master William’s wounds. When he got to his bedroom he gently placed his love down on the bed.
“William, baby, please open your eyes,” he whispered. William’s eyes remained closed and he felt the blood inside him boil. He could destroy them all, he thought as he ran his fingers through William’s long hair. No one got away with what they did to what was his.
“Never again, I’ll never let this happen again,” he whispered as he took off William’s shirt with more care then Angelus had ever done anything in his existence.
“Please, love,” he said as he kissed each bruise and cut revealed. He knew it was foolish to believe that he could heal each wound with nothing but his love, but Angelus couldn’t will himself to stop.
He was just about to take off William’s pants when he looked up. He could swear he felt his heart beat when he saw beautiful, blue eye staring back at him.
“Sire,” William whispered softly. His voice was higher then usually, a clear indication of just how much pain he was in.
Seeing William’s blue eyes caused Angelus’s body to relax. He hadn’t even realized, until that moment, how tense he really was.
“Baby,” he said softly, getting close enough to look into those blue eyes that held Angelus’s entire world, “I’m here, my love, I’m going to take care of you.”
William’s eyes unfocused for a moment and Angelus could see the pain radiate off his childe.
“I’m sorry,” William whispered as he closed his eyes.
Angelus shook his head fiercely, “you have nothing to apologize for,” he hissed.
William opened his eyes once more and Angelus could see tears threaten to shed.
“I wanted to make it special,” he whispered.
“What special?” Angelus asked in confusion.
“You death day, sire,” William said as he clenched his jaw tight to fight off the pain. His wounds gushed with blood and Angelus could swear his childe’s skin was practically translucent.
The dark haired vampire moaned and ran his hands up and down William’s chest, as if trying to push the young vampire’s blood back into his body.
“Oh, William, just being with you makes it special.”
The young vampire shook his head and tapped his pants pocket.
“It’s in here,” he said, the last word coming out a mere hiss just before he passed out from the pain.
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Angel turned and looked at Wesley, “it was that night that I made a vow, Wes.”
Angel once again began to play with his cufflinks, his eyes focused on nothing but the tiny platinum studs.
Wesley moved closer and pointed to the cufflink, “May I see them?” He asked.
Angel held out his arm to let Wesley take a better look. In the middle of the cufflinks there was an engraving.
“W slash A,” Wes read out loud. He smiled as he let go of Angel’s wrist and stared into the vampire’s whiskey eyes.
“Is that what you found in William’s pocket that night?” he asked as he nodded his head in the direction of Angel’s cufflinks.
Angel’s smile held no joy as he nodded his head.
“I could have staked him myself,” the vampire said before he laughed without a trace of humor.
“He almost died that night to buy me these cufflinks.” He said as he rubbed his thumb against one of them again and again.
Wesley unconsciously reached out and ran his index finger against the other one.
“What was the vow you made that night, Angel?”
Angel looked out the window and touched the cold glass in front of him, “to always make sure William knew the truth.”
The limo stopped and both of them looked out the window to see the front entrance of a small art gallery.
“And what is the truth, Angel?” Wesley asked as he watched the limo driver walk around the car to open up Angel’s door.
Angel smoothed down his suit jacket and shuffled in his seat to get ready to vacate the car.
Just as the door was being opened he turned and stared into Wesley’s eyes. The sadness staring back at the ex-watcher caused him to hiss.
“That all I needed,” Angel stated, “all I ever wanted--was him.”
Spike leaned against the wall watching people as they walked in. The champagne in his hand was too sweet and he gulped it down fast to get rid of it. He could see Giles talking to group of people and made his way over.
“How are you feeling?” Giles asked after he excused himself from the group and stood next to the vampire. Spike shrugged his shoulders as he looked around the room full of strangers.
“Aren’t you happy with the turn out?” the ex-watcher asked.
Spike met Giles eyes and sighed, “It’s not that, it’s just…,” he paused and looked over at his paintings. Like all artist he could see every imperfection glaring back at him.
“Do you really think these people like them?” he asked as he stared at the strangers in front of him and tried to give them a pleasant smile.
Giles moved closer and placed a hand on Spike’s shoulder.
“They’re blown away,” he whispered and smiled at the hopeful look in Spike’s eyes.
He watched the blonde vampire look around the room with more confidence and squeezed his shoulder once before letting go.
Giles took a sip of his champagne and looked over at the door.
‘They’re late,’ he thought as a group of women walked in dressed in tight clothes and rich men wrapped around them as accessories.
Giles could feel a nervous bubble grow in his chest and checked his watch once more.
‘Where are they,’ he thought.
Spike turned just in time to see him looking at the front entrance and shook his head at his odd behavior.
“That’s the tenth time you’ve done that,” he said looking at Giles closely, “it almost like you’re waiting for someone.” He said in a teasing manner.
Giles gave a nervous chuckle, “me,” he answer in a high voice which caused him to cough and deepen dramatically, “no, no, just seeing how many people have come see your wonderful work,” he answered as he gave Spike a horribly fake smile.
Spike narrowed his eyes and moved closer, “What the hell, Rupes? I can tell when you’re lying, so tell me what’s going on?” he asked, becoming suspicious of Giles’s behavior.
Giles ran a hand through his hair and was about to speak when he saw the cause for his nervousness walk in the door.
His breath caught in his throat and he turned to Spike.
“Spike, I wasn’t to sure how you were going to take this but…” he paused as he saw Spike slowly turn his head in the direction of the front doors.
The blonde quickly looked back at him with wide eyes filled with anger and something very close to betrayal.
Giles tried not to wince as he said. “I want you to talk to him, Spike.”
“What the bloody fuck, Rupert,” the vampire hissed before taking a quick look back at Angel.
He looked back at Giles and his eyes were flashing gold.
“Why did you ask him to come?” he barked. Giles could tell he was trying to keep his voice low and he was surprised how well he was succeeding.
Giles touched Spike’s shoulder and almost sobbed when the vampire brushed him off with disgust.
“Why, after everything I told you, did you ask that bloody ponce to come, Watcher?” Spike hissed through clenched teeth.
“Spike, he wants to talk to you, I swear it.” Giles said as he tried to calm down his friend, “I did this because I care about…”
“Watcher,” Spike snapped interrupting him, “Angel bloody hates me.” He shook his head before he ran his fingers through his hair, “this night,” he said, his voice wavering with emotion, “was about new beginnings, Giles, and…” he trailed off as he looked away and stared at the strangers around them. “I thought you understood.”
Giles was at a loss for words as he tried once more to reach out for him.
“Don’t,” Spike hissed causing Giles to quickly drop his hand back to his waist side.
“He doesn’t hate you,” Giles said quietly.
Spike stared into Giles’s eyes, and the ex-watcher almost flinched at the emotion they conveyed.
“Spike, please understand…” Giles pleaded but Spike placed up his hand, silently asking Giles to stop.
Giles watched him turn his back to him and was about to say something when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see whiskey colored eyes bore into his blue ones.
He was about to open his mouth when those whiskey eyes narrowed and then moved in the direction of the blonde vampire walking away.
“Let me talk to him,” Angel said before lightly squeezing Giles shoulder and letting go.
---------------------------
Spike was making his way through the crowds and ignoring everyone who tried to engage him in conversation. He could hear comments from groups of people as he walked by. Their praise washing over him for a spilt second before he’d pushed past them to get away from what a few minutes ago was a fresh and exciting start on life.
He’d made in almost half away across the room when a strong hand grabbed onto his shoulder and stopped his movements.
“William,” Spike heard someone whisper into his ear.
He didn’t turn around, he didn’t need to. Spike would know that voice a million years from now in the pits of hell or, powers be damned, the clouds of heaven.
He stood frozen as he watched Angel walk around him so their eyes met for the first time in too many years.
His sire’s eyes were filled to the brim with emotion and he wasn’t to sure if his own were telling just as much.
“You look so…” Angel started but trailed off as he looked up and down Spike’s body.
Spike pulled away roughly, his first instincts kicking in.
“What?” he snapped, “weak, not worthy?”
Angel looked down and shuffled his feet, “I was going to say gorgeous,” he whispered softly.
Spike was so stunned that he took a step back as shook his head. His fear and uncertainty caused his nerves to stand on end.
He did the only thing he could think of to calm down. He turned his back to his Sire and looked in the direction of his flat mate.
Giles’s eyes met his and he quickly looked away, he was unsure how he felt about anyone at the moment.
“Angel…” he trailed off as he tried to think of anything he could say. Too many things, too many questions and words flitted through his head that he couldn’t make sense of any of them.
---------------
Angel stared helpless at Spike’s tense back as he tried to think of what to say. All his words seemed hopelessly trite and desperate.
He opened his mouth a few time to speak but only closed it again when he thought better of the things he was about to admit to.
After a long silence Angel looked away from Spike and glanced around the room in despair. He knew it was pointless to try and find an answer in a room full of humans. But his eyes still desperately tried to seek out what his mind knew was impossible.
There wasn’t anything in this crowded room that could help him, not the humans or ex-watcher, not even the artwor….he paused in thought as his eyes took in the paintings on the far wall.
Hanging there, just to his left, were paintings of a view he thought about every single day since witnessing the view with his own eyes.
Angel’s whole body reacted to the paints, causing him to take a step in their direction.
“Spike,” Angel said with such awe and wonderment that the blonde turned to look at him. He pointed to the last one and slowly turned his head in Spike’s direction.
He could tell Spike was shaking as the blonde quickly stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Spike,” he repeated with the same amount of wonderment, “Is that what I think it is?”
Spike cleared his throat and nodded his head slowly.
Angel looked back at the painting of a sunset with the single figure hiding underneath a tree and the memory hit him like a flash of lighting…
------------------------------------------
William began to shake violently as he held onto the tree trunk.
“We’re dust, Angelus, we not getting out of this,” he said looking at the coming dawn in dread.
Angelus came up behind him and held onto the thin vampire’s waist. He placed his head in the crock of William’s neck and nuzzled the soft, silky skin where his mark was.
“We’ll be fine, baby,” he whispered running his hands up and down William’s chest.
William turned his head and looked at his love, “Angelus, the sun is coming up,” he whispered as if saying it too loudly would make it more real.
Angelus looked up and could see that they were completely shaded by the large tree. He knew they were safe.
“I swear to you, William, we’ll be fine,” he whispered turning and looking as the deadly sun beginning to rise. William started to whimper and watched the spectacle of color.
“Oh, gods,” William moaned as he began to shake. His vampire senses were going crazy and he grabbed Angelus upper arm tightly.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, William,” he whispered kissing that sweet neck again. “Just watch the sun…just watch it and know you’re safe in my arms.”
William began to relax and for the first time in just under seventy years he saw the sunrise.
He watched the red mingle with the dark blue and the orange bleed into the yellow. He watched every last second of that sunrise, believing it to be his last.
When he turned to look at Angelus he noticed the other vampire wasn’t even looking at the glorious sight, but instead staring at him.
“Why aren’t you watching, Angelus?” he whispered, his mouth close to his love’s.
Angelus looked at the sky for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, “why do I need to look at the sun, Will, when I have something far more beautiful to look at right in front of me.”
It wasn’t often that Angelus said so freely what was in his heart. There were times, when William was hurt or after long trips away, that Angelus would get sentimental and whisper praises and endearments into his ear. But to say it so readily to him in this moment; it took hold of the last bit of William’s human heart and caused it to triple with the love he felt for his sire.
They spent the whole morning holding each other, they talked about nothing…they talked about everything.
During that sunning morning they weren’t demons or vampires that hunted the night for blood. They we’re nothing but a part of the scenery, simply two men madly in love.
When the sun began to set William turned to Angelus and stared straight into those whiskey colored eyes.
“Angelus,” he whispered, “do you think we’ll ever come back here?” He asked.
Angelus leaned down and kissed him sweetly, “I’m not sure but…my heart will always be here, my love.”
---------------------------------------------------
Angel moved closer and reached out slowly to touch Spike’s face.
“William,” he said softly, “why aren’t you there with me?” he asked nodding over to the painting.
Spike closed his eyes and let himself lean into the touch.
“Because,” he said, clenching his eyes tight to fight back the tears, “you left me, Angel. But no matter what, no matter where you were, I always hoped you were there…,” he whispered as he moved a bit closer, “waiting for me.”
Angel moaned and quickly dove in for the kiss he had waited a hundred years to receive.
The two ex-watchers across the room turned their tear stained eyes to each other. They both coughed in embarrassment before quickly brushed away their tears.
The End