You Won't Be Mine (Chapter 5)
Title: You Won't Be Mine (Chapter 5)
Author: thelastchickpea
Pairing: Spike/Angel, Bartleby/Loki (from Dogma), Spike/Bartleby
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: See AN. Slash (m/m sex), angst, crossover with Dogma
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, background story, or title. It's not for profit so please don't sue.
Spoilers: Post-NFA (so all AtS to be safe) and all Dogma is spoiled.
Summary: It's after the final battle, and Spike waited for Angel to be ready until he couldn't wait anymore. Spike's got a life of his own now and Angel might want another chance.
AN/Warning: This story is only a crossover in that 3 characters from the film Dogma are incorporated in the BtVS/AtS-verse. Therefore, in this story, “The Powers That Be” will be the all-powerful entity. In this piece of fiction, angels are just specific demons created by TPTB to keep humans in line. They'll be doing some demon-y stuff (and they have, um, tackle, which is explained in the fic).
Feedback: Yes please! Constructive feedback, typo-catches, or just letting me know you're reading is much appreciated :)
Extra warning for this chapter: Mention of past character death (it's almost 30 years after the series, a natural death has occurred)
AN: Hi there! Sorry for the wait, it's all due to midterms. After this chapter I swear it gets less angsty. Also, Loki is a bit of an ass in this chapter, but that gets better soon too. It's just he and Bartleby need to talk too, yeah?
As always, if you're curious about something or want to see something, let me know and I'll see if it will fit. Thank you so much for your feedback! It makes me happy :)
Chapter Five
Angel decided that nine thirty was a good time for him to come on Monday evening since it seemed like the perfect ‘casual drink’ hour. He was at Spike’s door punctually at nine thirty and he was showered, nicely dressed, and perfectly coiffed.
Spike answered the door without a shirt, his short hair going in all directions, and wearing worn-down jeans which he was currently zipping up. He smelled like sex.
“You’re not ready.” Angel helpfully pointed out.
“Sorry mate. Was getting there. One sec, yeah? Just have to run a hand through my hair and put a shirt on. Expected you later. Can come in if you want.” It was not the smug response Angel expected; maybe this was how that friends thing worked? Over Spike’s shoulder he saw Bartleby leaving the bedroom heading towards the kitchen. They caught eyes for a moment and Bartleby gave Angel a calm nod of acknowledgement.
Right. Angel remembered as he clenched his teeth. Friends would be happy Spike has Bartleby. Doesn’t mean I have to like him though. He then caught sight of the light down feathers that now covered Bartleby’s wings; it was a disappointing development. Maybe they stop growing there, Angel hoped even though it seemed unlikely. He then looked back at Spike who seemed to have caught the small exchange and was still waiting for Angel’s answer to his invitation.
“I’ll just wait here.”
Spike rolled his eyes, told him he’d be right back, and shut the door.
~ + ~ + ~ + ~+ ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
“So, this is what you do in Milwaukee?”
Angel looked around the sports bar. The sports bar. He had never known Spike to play sports unless you counted poker. The floor was sticky with beer, the walls were covered with plastic paneling masquerading as wood and many of the patrons were wearing hats shaped like huge triangles of cheese.
Angel felt slightly overdressed.
“Er, not much of a club scene on Monday nights. Thought maybe this would work. Never actually been before.” Spike gave a quick glance around, looking a little self-conscious about his choice. Angel felt like he was seeing a little flash of William.
“Nachos are alright though.” Spike held out to Angel a loaded nacho that promptly snapped in half from the weight of the Cheez-Whiz. They stared at the failed food offering. One half in Spike’s hand, the other half on Angel’s shirt, a drooping rope of cheese connecting them. Angel picked the nacho off his black silk shirt and frowned down at the goopy yellow mess it left behind.
And then Angel began to laugh. Actual, soft, genuine laughter. He looked up at Spike’s shocked face.
“So, I fit in here now, right?” Angel chuckled and Spike gave a snort of surprised, but still happy laughter back.
“You look like quite the regular now, mate.”
They smiled at each other again and it felt comfortable and Angel realized that for some reason he didn’t care that he was in a run-down sports bar in Milwaukee with a Cheez-Whiz stain on his silk shirt.
~ + ~ + ~ + ~+ ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
Bartleby was not at all surprised when half an hour after Spike left, there was a knock on the door and his gift couldn’t sense who was on the other side.
“Loki,” he sighed with exasperation as he opened the door, “for the former Angel of Death, this is a less than dramatic entrance.”
Loki, not looking at all offended by Bartleby’s words, walked right past Bartleby and into the apartment.
“I’m not big on those anymore,” he stated as he chomped on his gum, “I leave the dramatic entrances and exits to you now. You did a great job with both at the Church.”
“More than thirty years ago.” Bartleby growled.
“Think the people you killed have forgotten?”
Bartleby glared at his old companion.
“I think you’re the last one who should cast stones about killing.”
“Boys, boys.” Metatron sarcastically sniped as he rolled his eyes and entered the apartment. “I can guarantee you the building does not want to hear your harping.” He took the doorknob out of the stunned Bartleby’s hand and closed the door.
“Metatron?” Bartleby gaped. “You’re helping Loki? You’re helping Loki!”
Metatron tapped Bartleby’s chin up to close his mouth.
“I’m helping all of you. I’m a man of the people.”
“Right, if you were a man.” Loki snorted and gave a little pelvic thrust.
“Yes, yes, and if any of you could be considered people.” Metatron said nodding towards a feather on the ground.
“So, what’s the Master Plan, Voice?” Bartleby hissed.
“Now Bartleby,” the older angel explained, his voice as patronizing as ever, “you know I’m not one for giving away plans. You know there isn’t even always a full plan, so to speak.”
Bartleby sighed. Talking to the confidant of the all-knowing? Infuriating sometimes.
“Alright. No big plan. What I’m trying to ask is why you,” he poked Loki in the chest, “who never thinks ahead and used to love nothing more than a confrontation is doing something as passive-aggressive as this!”
“You just say that because you’re afraid!” Loki retorted. “You’re afraid that he’ll go back to Angel.”
Bartleby looked at him a little sadly. He knew this was supposed to rile him up; it’s what Loki always did.
“I’m not afraid of that,” he said with all honesty, “I’m afraid you are causing Spike a lot of unnecessary pain and I don’t understand what you get out of that.”
“You don’t understand! You don’t get to be happy! You fucking killed me man, you don’t get to be happy! I should get to be happy!”
“So that’s what this is all about?” Bartleby contemplated aloud. “That’s why you only take humans to your bed, right? So I can feel it? So I would know how happy you were? Funny, it only made me realize how happy you weren’t.”
“Shut up.” Loki growled dangerously.
“You really want to hurt him just to spite me? Wow, it’s a good thing you got the lighter punishment; clearly you do have the better morals.” Just as calmly as he had said everything else, he delivered the crushing blow. “You’re jealous. I’ve watched people’s emotions my entire time and I can recognize yours. But I would never go with you. If Spike decides what we have is not enough, it’s his decision. I’ll be hurt, but it’s his decision. But it would never drive me to you. You had empathy for one moment and I haven’t seen you use it since then, Reaper.”
“I - you can’t just say things like that. I’m not jealous. You want to think that, huh? You want to think I’m pining away for -”
“Metatron,” Bartleby, completely ignoring Loki’s rant, turned to the older angel, “please take him home.”
“I apologize, Bartleby,” Metatron gave a small nod, “it appears someone missed their nap.”
“What the fuck Voice!” Loki rounded to face him. “You’re here to help me!”
“Well, I’m helping you save a scrap of dignity.” Metatron grabbed the back of Loki’s coat and they suddenly both disappeared in a show of flames.
Well, Bartleby thought, that went about as well as I would have expected.
~ + ~ + ~ + ~+ ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
“So it’s better than the visions?”
“In terms of accuracy, clearly mate. Means ‘e’s always got all these bloody awful things humans did and do in his ‘ead though, so not so good there.”
“Oh. Yeah, that must suck.” Angel actually did feel a little bad.
“Yeah, but he’s good about figuring out wot he can fix and wot he can’t and not feeling guilty for the can’t.”
Angel remembered when he used to try to fix more than he could take on. The past three decades he had pretty much given up on doing anything at all.
“Good.”
They were walking back towards Spike’s apartment. The rest of the time at the sports bar had been relatively uneventful, but fun. Spike won an arm-wrestling match against a man twice his size and had earned a twenty for it. Being Spike, of course, he instantly spent it on JD. Angel had made him split it though, one because he did not want to carry a drunk Spike back and two because he was not nearly drunk enough to have to face Bartleby again. But then they had gone on a walk throughout the area and circled a block near Spike’s a few times and so the alcohol had almost completely worn off.
“So does he see me?” Angel suddenly asked, a little frightened of the angel’s power.
“You’re not human, yeah? So he can’t see out your eyes or read your thoughts. Sees you when you’re with humans though.” Spike said with a shrug.
Oh, Angel realized. So that’s why -
“So that’s how you knew that I’ve been with, um, a lot of humans?” Fuck! He hadn’t meant to spit it out like that.
“Er, yeah.” Spike said to the ground.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that your -” What should I call him? “ -- he tells you this? Did you ever think he was trying to keep you with him by telling you about who I was with?”
“No!” Spike exclaimed angrily, defending Bartleby, “I asked ‘im to!”
“You asked him to tell you about my sex life?” What? “You don’t think that’s a little wrong?”
“I didn’t ask -” Spike paused for a moment as though to calm down. “I didn’t ask about your sex life. I wanted to know if you were alright. B’d tell me you were with someone right now. I’d ask if it was the same one as before, ‘e’d say no,” he looked at Angel, “I wasn’t trying to spy, mate.”
Great. Well, now I feel like crap.
“I’m sor-” Spike raised an eyebrow at Angel and Angel made himself continue, “I’m sorry. It’s just strange.”
“Ta.” Spike smiled again. Angel decided he liked it when Spike smiled like that.
“So does he check up on anyone from Sunnydale?”
“Yeah, the whole bloody lot of them. Tells me from time to time if ‘e thinks it will make me want to contact ‘em.”
Angel thought about this for a moment. At first he had felt Bartleby had hid Spike away from everyone. But now…
“Did he try to get you to contact me?”
Spike rolled his eyes.
“Yes! Bloody hell, yes. All this bollocks about closure and family and friendship. Cor, he can right harp on it sometimes.” He let out a little snort. “Guess ‘e’s right though.”
“Really? You’re glad we’re in contact?” Spike chortled at Angel's wording. “I mean, you know, that we’re talking?”
“Yeah. It’s nice.” Spike realized they were at the door to his apartment complex. He wanted to have this kind of camaraderie with the Scoobies too. “I’ll call them.”
“You do know that Giles died a few years ago?” Angel had never really liked the man or some of his decisions, but he knew Spike had some good memories.
Spike nodded and waved Angel to follow him into the lobby.
“Wings told me ‘e was coming near the end. Can sense things like that. Told me I’d regret it if I didn’t call.” He pressed the button for the elevator. “And I would ‘ave.”
They stood in silence until the elevator opened in front of them and they both stepped in.
“He apologized,” Spike continued, “for not helping when he could’ve. I told ‘im what I’d been up to, and he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone. Said he was glad I called. That he missed me.” The elevator stopped at the fourth floor and Spike stepped off.
“We all missed you.” Angel stayed on the elevator. He’d rather not watch Spike go home. “I’ll give you a call soon,” he held up the business card Spike had given him.
“Ta. This was fun, Angel. Come on a better night next time. B and I do know of some good clubs and we’ll take you to one, yeah?”
Angel smiled. It still hurt, but it wasn't as sharp. “Sounds good.”
“Right, see you mate!” Spike gave a nod and then turned to walk down the hall. Angel rode the elevator back down to the lobby and then walked out into the cold Milwaukee night. He was walking towards a main street when he realized that someone was walking behind him. He stopped and they did as well.
“Listen you don’t want to fight me tonight.” He stated in a bored tone as he turned around.
“Oh, Angelcakes, I’m not here to fight you.”
Author: thelastchickpea
Pairing: Spike/Angel, Bartleby/Loki (from Dogma), Spike/Bartleby
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: See AN. Slash (m/m sex), angst, crossover with Dogma
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, background story, or title. It's not for profit so please don't sue.
Spoilers: Post-NFA (so all AtS to be safe) and all Dogma is spoiled.
Summary: It's after the final battle, and Spike waited for Angel to be ready until he couldn't wait anymore. Spike's got a life of his own now and Angel might want another chance.
AN/Warning: This story is only a crossover in that 3 characters from the film Dogma are incorporated in the BtVS/AtS-verse. Therefore, in this story, “The Powers That Be” will be the all-powerful entity. In this piece of fiction, angels are just specific demons created by TPTB to keep humans in line. They'll be doing some demon-y stuff (and they have, um, tackle, which is explained in the fic).
Feedback: Yes please! Constructive feedback, typo-catches, or just letting me know you're reading is much appreciated :)
Extra warning for this chapter: Mention of past character death (it's almost 30 years after the series, a natural death has occurred)
AN: Hi there! Sorry for the wait, it's all due to midterms. After this chapter I swear it gets less angsty. Also, Loki is a bit of an ass in this chapter, but that gets better soon too. It's just he and Bartleby need to talk too, yeah?
As always, if you're curious about something or want to see something, let me know and I'll see if it will fit. Thank you so much for your feedback! It makes me happy :)
Chapter Five
Angel decided that nine thirty was a good time for him to come on Monday evening since it seemed like the perfect ‘casual drink’ hour. He was at Spike’s door punctually at nine thirty and he was showered, nicely dressed, and perfectly coiffed.
Spike answered the door without a shirt, his short hair going in all directions, and wearing worn-down jeans which he was currently zipping up. He smelled like sex.
“You’re not ready.” Angel helpfully pointed out.
“Sorry mate. Was getting there. One sec, yeah? Just have to run a hand through my hair and put a shirt on. Expected you later. Can come in if you want.” It was not the smug response Angel expected; maybe this was how that friends thing worked? Over Spike’s shoulder he saw Bartleby leaving the bedroom heading towards the kitchen. They caught eyes for a moment and Bartleby gave Angel a calm nod of acknowledgement.
Right. Angel remembered as he clenched his teeth. Friends would be happy Spike has Bartleby. Doesn’t mean I have to like him though. He then caught sight of the light down feathers that now covered Bartleby’s wings; it was a disappointing development. Maybe they stop growing there, Angel hoped even though it seemed unlikely. He then looked back at Spike who seemed to have caught the small exchange and was still waiting for Angel’s answer to his invitation.
“I’ll just wait here.”
Spike rolled his eyes, told him he’d be right back, and shut the door.
~ + ~ + ~ + ~+ ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
“So, this is what you do in Milwaukee?”
Angel looked around the sports bar. The sports bar. He had never known Spike to play sports unless you counted poker. The floor was sticky with beer, the walls were covered with plastic paneling masquerading as wood and many of the patrons were wearing hats shaped like huge triangles of cheese.
Angel felt slightly overdressed.
“Er, not much of a club scene on Monday nights. Thought maybe this would work. Never actually been before.” Spike gave a quick glance around, looking a little self-conscious about his choice. Angel felt like he was seeing a little flash of William.
“Nachos are alright though.” Spike held out to Angel a loaded nacho that promptly snapped in half from the weight of the Cheez-Whiz. They stared at the failed food offering. One half in Spike’s hand, the other half on Angel’s shirt, a drooping rope of cheese connecting them. Angel picked the nacho off his black silk shirt and frowned down at the goopy yellow mess it left behind.
And then Angel began to laugh. Actual, soft, genuine laughter. He looked up at Spike’s shocked face.
“So, I fit in here now, right?” Angel chuckled and Spike gave a snort of surprised, but still happy laughter back.
“You look like quite the regular now, mate.”
They smiled at each other again and it felt comfortable and Angel realized that for some reason he didn’t care that he was in a run-down sports bar in Milwaukee with a Cheez-Whiz stain on his silk shirt.
~ + ~ + ~ + ~+ ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
Bartleby was not at all surprised when half an hour after Spike left, there was a knock on the door and his gift couldn’t sense who was on the other side.
“Loki,” he sighed with exasperation as he opened the door, “for the former Angel of Death, this is a less than dramatic entrance.”
Loki, not looking at all offended by Bartleby’s words, walked right past Bartleby and into the apartment.
“I’m not big on those anymore,” he stated as he chomped on his gum, “I leave the dramatic entrances and exits to you now. You did a great job with both at the Church.”
“More than thirty years ago.” Bartleby growled.
“Think the people you killed have forgotten?”
Bartleby glared at his old companion.
“I think you’re the last one who should cast stones about killing.”
“Boys, boys.” Metatron sarcastically sniped as he rolled his eyes and entered the apartment. “I can guarantee you the building does not want to hear your harping.” He took the doorknob out of the stunned Bartleby’s hand and closed the door.
“Metatron?” Bartleby gaped. “You’re helping Loki? You’re helping Loki!”
Metatron tapped Bartleby’s chin up to close his mouth.
“I’m helping all of you. I’m a man of the people.”
“Right, if you were a man.” Loki snorted and gave a little pelvic thrust.
“Yes, yes, and if any of you could be considered people.” Metatron said nodding towards a feather on the ground.
“So, what’s the Master Plan, Voice?” Bartleby hissed.
“Now Bartleby,” the older angel explained, his voice as patronizing as ever, “you know I’m not one for giving away plans. You know there isn’t even always a full plan, so to speak.”
Bartleby sighed. Talking to the confidant of the all-knowing? Infuriating sometimes.
“Alright. No big plan. What I’m trying to ask is why you,” he poked Loki in the chest, “who never thinks ahead and used to love nothing more than a confrontation is doing something as passive-aggressive as this!”
“You just say that because you’re afraid!” Loki retorted. “You’re afraid that he’ll go back to Angel.”
Bartleby looked at him a little sadly. He knew this was supposed to rile him up; it’s what Loki always did.
“I’m not afraid of that,” he said with all honesty, “I’m afraid you are causing Spike a lot of unnecessary pain and I don’t understand what you get out of that.”
“You don’t understand! You don’t get to be happy! You fucking killed me man, you don’t get to be happy! I should get to be happy!”
“So that’s what this is all about?” Bartleby contemplated aloud. “That’s why you only take humans to your bed, right? So I can feel it? So I would know how happy you were? Funny, it only made me realize how happy you weren’t.”
“Shut up.” Loki growled dangerously.
“You really want to hurt him just to spite me? Wow, it’s a good thing you got the lighter punishment; clearly you do have the better morals.” Just as calmly as he had said everything else, he delivered the crushing blow. “You’re jealous. I’ve watched people’s emotions my entire time and I can recognize yours. But I would never go with you. If Spike decides what we have is not enough, it’s his decision. I’ll be hurt, but it’s his decision. But it would never drive me to you. You had empathy for one moment and I haven’t seen you use it since then, Reaper.”
“I - you can’t just say things like that. I’m not jealous. You want to think that, huh? You want to think I’m pining away for -”
“Metatron,” Bartleby, completely ignoring Loki’s rant, turned to the older angel, “please take him home.”
“I apologize, Bartleby,” Metatron gave a small nod, “it appears someone missed their nap.”
“What the fuck Voice!” Loki rounded to face him. “You’re here to help me!”
“Well, I’m helping you save a scrap of dignity.” Metatron grabbed the back of Loki’s coat and they suddenly both disappeared in a show of flames.
Well, Bartleby thought, that went about as well as I would have expected.
~ + ~ + ~ + ~+ ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~ + ~
“So it’s better than the visions?”
“In terms of accuracy, clearly mate. Means ‘e’s always got all these bloody awful things humans did and do in his ‘ead though, so not so good there.”
“Oh. Yeah, that must suck.” Angel actually did feel a little bad.
“Yeah, but he’s good about figuring out wot he can fix and wot he can’t and not feeling guilty for the can’t.”
Angel remembered when he used to try to fix more than he could take on. The past three decades he had pretty much given up on doing anything at all.
“Good.”
They were walking back towards Spike’s apartment. The rest of the time at the sports bar had been relatively uneventful, but fun. Spike won an arm-wrestling match against a man twice his size and had earned a twenty for it. Being Spike, of course, he instantly spent it on JD. Angel had made him split it though, one because he did not want to carry a drunk Spike back and two because he was not nearly drunk enough to have to face Bartleby again. But then they had gone on a walk throughout the area and circled a block near Spike’s a few times and so the alcohol had almost completely worn off.
“So does he see me?” Angel suddenly asked, a little frightened of the angel’s power.
“You’re not human, yeah? So he can’t see out your eyes or read your thoughts. Sees you when you’re with humans though.” Spike said with a shrug.
Oh, Angel realized. So that’s why -
“So that’s how you knew that I’ve been with, um, a lot of humans?” Fuck! He hadn’t meant to spit it out like that.
“Er, yeah.” Spike said to the ground.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that your -” What should I call him? “ -- he tells you this? Did you ever think he was trying to keep you with him by telling you about who I was with?”
“No!” Spike exclaimed angrily, defending Bartleby, “I asked ‘im to!”
“You asked him to tell you about my sex life?” What? “You don’t think that’s a little wrong?”
“I didn’t ask -” Spike paused for a moment as though to calm down. “I didn’t ask about your sex life. I wanted to know if you were alright. B’d tell me you were with someone right now. I’d ask if it was the same one as before, ‘e’d say no,” he looked at Angel, “I wasn’t trying to spy, mate.”
Great. Well, now I feel like crap.
“I’m sor-” Spike raised an eyebrow at Angel and Angel made himself continue, “I’m sorry. It’s just strange.”
“Ta.” Spike smiled again. Angel decided he liked it when Spike smiled like that.
“So does he check up on anyone from Sunnydale?”
“Yeah, the whole bloody lot of them. Tells me from time to time if ‘e thinks it will make me want to contact ‘em.”
Angel thought about this for a moment. At first he had felt Bartleby had hid Spike away from everyone. But now…
“Did he try to get you to contact me?”
Spike rolled his eyes.
“Yes! Bloody hell, yes. All this bollocks about closure and family and friendship. Cor, he can right harp on it sometimes.” He let out a little snort. “Guess ‘e’s right though.”
“Really? You’re glad we’re in contact?” Spike chortled at Angel's wording. “I mean, you know, that we’re talking?”
“Yeah. It’s nice.” Spike realized they were at the door to his apartment complex. He wanted to have this kind of camaraderie with the Scoobies too. “I’ll call them.”
“You do know that Giles died a few years ago?” Angel had never really liked the man or some of his decisions, but he knew Spike had some good memories.
Spike nodded and waved Angel to follow him into the lobby.
“Wings told me ‘e was coming near the end. Can sense things like that. Told me I’d regret it if I didn’t call.” He pressed the button for the elevator. “And I would ‘ave.”
They stood in silence until the elevator opened in front of them and they both stepped in.
“He apologized,” Spike continued, “for not helping when he could’ve. I told ‘im what I’d been up to, and he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone. Said he was glad I called. That he missed me.” The elevator stopped at the fourth floor and Spike stepped off.
“We all missed you.” Angel stayed on the elevator. He’d rather not watch Spike go home. “I’ll give you a call soon,” he held up the business card Spike had given him.
“Ta. This was fun, Angel. Come on a better night next time. B and I do know of some good clubs and we’ll take you to one, yeah?”
Angel smiled. It still hurt, but it wasn't as sharp. “Sounds good.”
“Right, see you mate!” Spike gave a nod and then turned to walk down the hall. Angel rode the elevator back down to the lobby and then walked out into the cold Milwaukee night. He was walking towards a main street when he realized that someone was walking behind him. He stopped and they did as well.
“Listen you don’t want to fight me tonight.” He stated in a bored tone as he turned around.
“Oh, Angelcakes, I’m not here to fight you.”