Fic: A Cat in a Bear's Den
This was supposed to be one of those icondrabbles. But then it just went on and on and... *sighs*
It was also supposed to be funny (as the icon indicates) but right from the beginning... Well, this is way more schmoopy than my usual stuff and frankly a bit girly. Oh well, we all know they're total girls underneath all that cockiness. Oh, and do I ever write without angst? Nope, not this time either. Erm... the titel is an Icelandic proverb (Köttur í bóli bjarnar) that makes no sense to you lot probably but it just fit so perfectly.
Spangel. 3141 words.
Written for aschicca based on this icon:
A Cat in a Bear's Den
“Stupid demon blowing its stinking self up in my...” Angel stepped out of the elevator into the penthouse, his muttering coming to a halt as his nostrils flared. “Spike?”
No answer but there was no disguising that scent, not even with layers of demon goo coating his face. Frowning he pulled off his ruined coat and discarded it in a heap on the floor, kicking off his shoes and peeling off the soaked socks before walking gingerly across the living room to turn on the light in the bedroom.
“Spike?”
The silent form lying on his bed didn't react, except for the soft light of the morning sun dancing on the naked skin as the chest rose once, expelling a soft sigh.
Angel swallowed. This was... unexpected. He shifted uncomfortably, his wet feet already sticking to the floor. He was pretty sure this was the moment where he was supposed to snarl and send Spike flying off the bed and onto the floor in a tangle of naked limbs and startled confusion. That was probably why Spike was here in the first place, to start another fight with his usual annoying insolence. Except he'd fallen asleep, tired of waiting, no doubt after soiling the sheets with drops of whiskey and...
Angel swallowed again. Then he turned around and walked quietly into the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him. Shower first. Explaining to himself why he hadn't reacted the rational way could wait until he didn't smell like vomit mating with a sewer.
Twenty minutes later he was again standing in the same spot, a damp towel around his waist, considerably cleaner but just as conflicted. Spike hadn't moved, no wonder judging from the empty bottle lying on the floor beside the bed, but emotions were rippling across his face, painful twitches and frowns that had Angel reaching out, only stopping inches away when he realised what he was doing. A moments hesitation and then he took a step closer, fingers stroking soothingly over the ridges now forming on Spike's brow.
The skin was slightly drier than he remembered, as if weathered by years gone by, but still so familiarly smooth. There was a time he would have been able to map out every inch of Spike's body, just from memory, but now he realised that time had marked him, leaving scars and imprints on his body that he, Angel, knew nothing about. Leaving without doubt even deeper scars on his soul and heart.
Spike sighed in his sleep, rubbing his face against Angel's hand and he froze, then slowly pulled away. The ridges returned and Spike hitched his breath, eyes moving frantically under the translucent eyelids, lips twitching into a frown. Angel watched him struggle for a while, unsure, but then he couldn't hold back any longer. He sat down on the edge of the bed, laying a palm on Spike's cheek. He stilled instantly, his face turning smooth and peaceful and after a while he started snoring softly, whatever nightmares had troubled him obviously chased away.
Angel didn't move. The sun rose higher and he knew soon they would be expecting him downstairs, never mind being a creature of the night and that he hadn't had a decent sleep in weeks. Maybe Spike was right. Maybe he had sold out, sold his soul for thirty pieces of silver and his son's happiness. He suddenly felt more tired than he had in a long time but still he didn't move away.
Hours later, when Angel's arm was starting to ache and his ass felt numb from sitting in the same position, Spike finally stirred. His nose wrinkled, sniffling childishly, and his eyelashes quivered on his cheek. Then a hand came up, swatting at the imagined fly that was Angel's fingertips before rubbing with trembling fingers the faintly bluish eyelids. He groaned and scowled, wiping the trail of saliva from the corner of his mouth before slowly blinking his eyes open. Then he froze.
“Morning. Sleep well?”
Spike blinked some more, then seemed to notice Angel's palm that was still resting on his cheek and raised his own hand, as if wanting to feel if it was real or not. Angel didn't pull away and for a moment they staid still, Spike's hand covering Angel's. Finally Spike swallowed, licking his lips nervously.
“Yeah. Thanks. Angel...”
“You were having nightmares,” Angel said quickly as if that would explain everything. “So I... yeah. You know.” He could feel himself blushing slightly but he still didn't move away.
“Uhuh.” Spike hesitated. “Thanks.” He bit his lip, his eyes shifting slightly before settling on Angel's again. “You're probably wondering...” He stopped then started again. “I fell asleep. Was waiting for you and...” He paused again. “Sorry.”
The word seemed to surprise him as much as Angel. There was an awkward silence and then Angel shook his head. “Don't be.” His face fell blank and he pulled away from Spike's hand. It fell with a soft thud on the mattress and Spike stared at it for a second like he'd suddenly realised what he'd been doing.
“Why?”
Spike 's head snapped up, a frown on his face. “Why what?”
“Why were you waiting for me?”
“Oh.” This time it was Spike's turn to close off. “Bored. You could have asked me to come with you, mate. Could use a good fight.” He shrugged.
“Since when do you need to be asked?”
Spike averted his eyes briefly before looking up at him with a bored expression. “Not felt particularly wanted lately, have I? With all the 'get lost, Spike' and 'why are you here?' thrown my way.”
Angel winced inwardly but kept his gaze. “Hasn't stopped you before.”
“Yeah well...” Spike's voice trailed off and he twitched his lips. “Things change.”
Angel nodded slowly. “Yes. They do. Look, Spike...”
Spike sat abruptly up, forcing Angel to jerk back to keep Spike's head from connecting with his nose. He scooted back a few inches, his numb ass and achy back protesting. Why hadn't he just lain down on the bed? It was his bed after all. Suddenly the whole thing seemed even more stupid than before. He felt stupid, and from the look in Spike's eyes he was thinking the exact same thing but he didn't smirk, just shrugged and looked around, assumingly for his clothes.
“Yeah, whatever. Next time just let me know, all right? Not like you can really trust any of the others to watch your back.”
Angel gave him an incredulous look. “You saying you are more trustworthy than them?”
The bored expression shifted for one that almost looked like hurt for a split second but just as quickly it changed back and Spike rolled his eyes. “I'm saying I'm not a fragile human so you don't have to worry 'bout me all the time. You forget I know what it's like, hunting with their kind. Half the time you're saving them from their own stupidity. They can't hear, can't smell, move too slow and one hit is all it takes to knock them out. At least with me you know I can hold my own.” He looked away, clenching his jaw. “And yes, Angel, you can trust me. Thought you'd figured that out by now.”
He moved to stand up but Angel grabbed his wrist, holding him still.
“I know. And I do. More or less. When it matters at least. You're wrong though.”
Spike raised his eyebrow irritably. “Yeah? About what?”
“Me not worrying.”
Spike stared at him. Then he looked down at the hand holding his wrist which was when Angel realised he was rubbing his thumb over it in slow circles. He stopped, then after a moment's thought started again, eyes meeting Spike's when he raised his gaze.
“You have an odd way of showing it then. Angel...” Spike swallowed. “What are you doing?”
“Worrying.” Angel winked then lifted Spike's wrist and kissed it lightly.
Spike gave a nervous laugh. “About my wrist?”
“About you.”
“Have you been drinking?”
Angel chuckled. “No.”
“Is this a spell?” Spike looked around. “Not on Candid Camera, am I?”
Angel shook his head in amusement, then reached over to rest his palm on Spike's cheek again, his smile dropping when Spike instinctively flinched. Barely noticeable but still enough. He didn't pull away though but tipped up Spike's face so he looked straight at him. “You want to know why I've been sitting here for four hours, just watching you?”
Spike blinked. “Four...?” He froze, his nostrils flaring. “Angelus?”
Angel sighed. “No. Will you stop being so damn suspicious and just listen to me?” He waited while Spike studied him, the sudden fear slowly fading from his eyes. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” Spike looked slightly sheepish. “Sorry.”
“Twice in one day.” Angel raised his eyes heavenward. “There must be a god.”
“Funny.” Spike shot him a suspicious glance. “Look, what am I supposed to think when you suddenly go all touchy feely on me?”
“That I care about you.”
Spike blinked, then his face turned hard. “Okay, now I know you've gone insane. Let me go, Angel.” But he didn't try to get away, his jaw only ticking slightly under Angel's fingers, suspicious eyes locked with Angel's calm ones.
“I've been sitting here for four hours, Spike, watching you. And thinking a whole lot about you and me and why things are the way they are between us.”
Spike snorted. “Yeah? Well, I can tell you why. Because you're a pompous ass, that's why. Because you walked out on me over a hundred years ago without so much as saying goodbye, that's why. Because since then you've been nothing but a bloody pain in my...”
“Spike, please.” Angel let go of Spike's chin to rub his own face tiredly before continuing. “I'm not saying you're not right because you are. Okay, maybe not about the pompous ass thing but...” He sighed when Spike didn't even smile. “Anyway, what I realised is that it's not you. You haven't changed, not really. You're just as annoying, just as loud and obnoxious and...”
“Oi!”
“... all the other things that made me love you in the first place.” He nodded at Spike's shocked look. “Except now you're more.”
The blue eyes grew wary again. “This where the soul comes in? I'm better because I have a soul now. Just like you, papa.” Spike's voice was sarcastic but it shook slightly.
“No. The soul has very little to do with anything.” Angel caught himself. “No, that's not true. It is important, very important. But it's had much less to do with who you are than my soul had with making me the man I am today.”
“Not a man,” Spike muttered.
“Vampire. Whatever. Will you stop interrupting me?” He gave Spike a glare. “What I'm trying to say is that you have grown into someone who would have given Angelus, me, a run for his money. And someone who makes me, Angel, very... proud.”
Spike frowned. “Come again?”
Angel sighed and tried again. “You've grown as a vampire and you've grown as a man. And you handle balancing those two a lot better than I do. You take the best of both and together... Well, you're a good man. And I might be a bit jealous.” He smiled awkwardly.
“Oh.” Spike bit his lip. “Not a man,” he then repeated absentmindedly as he wrinkled his brow in thought.
“A good vampire then.” Angel sighed. “Which sounds so stupid. Can you just let me call you a man this one time?”
“What?” Spike looked up. “Yeah, whatever.” He leaned back on his elbows, staring at Angel with a mix of incredulity and irritation in his eyes. “You telling me you're jealous? That's what this whole thing has been about? You ignoring me and wanting to get rid off me and pretty much being a bastard these last months?” He rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell, how old are you? Twelve?”
“Hey! And it wasn't just that.” Angel shot him a look. “You didn't help, you know. First thing you did was attack me.”
“Well, yeah.” Spike did his best 'duh' expression. “You try being burnt to crisp then materialising again, mate. I wasn't really feeling amicable. And you!” He pointed his finger at Angel. “You didn't exactly give me a warm welcome, did you? I saw that look. You wanted to torch me all over again.”
“I did not-!” Angel gritted his teeth. “It was a shock, okay? Spent the summer grieving for you and Connor and everyone else I've lost and suddenly you're back. You and not him and this is Wolfram & Hart, you know. For all I knew it was some scam, trying to lure me to...” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I'm sorry. All right? It's good to have you back. More than good. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Who's Connor?”
Angel snapped his eyes open. “What?”
Spike was watching him, eyes dark and unreadable. “You said you spent the summer grieving for Connor. Who's Connor?” He pursed his lips. “First time I've heard of him. He another of your dirty little secrets?”
Angel stared at him. “He's... We're not talking about him.”
“Yeah? You turn him? A pretty one, right? You always liked 'em pretty.”
“Spike, will you just... “ Angel gritted his teeth. “Why do you have to be so difficult? I'm trying to tell you-”
“And then I came back. Not him. And that's why you hate me because you loved him and I'm just-”
“He's my son, all right? He's my son, Spike.” Angel stood up. “He's my damn son and I would give anything to have him back, even you.” Ignoring Spike's shocked look he turned around and stalked out of the room.
He stood hunched over, leaning against the couch, trying to breathe the anger and grief away when Spike came up behind him, stopping a few feet short. Angel could see his bare feet underneath worn denim and he closed his eyes again, suddenly painfully aware that he was only wearing a tiny towel himself. He felt cold.
“If it could bring him back I wouldn't mind... going.”
Angel froze. Then he slowly straightened up and turned around. Spike was staring down at his toes, thin arms hugging his bare chest.
“Wasn't meant to be here anyway, was I? Supposed to be dead. And he... he should be here. I guess. So... yeah.” He shrugged. “Better for everyone. Maybe we can work something out. Do some...”
“You just proved my point.”
Spike looked up, frowning. “What?”
“He's not dead, Spike. Not really. He's just... being someone else. Far away from me, leading a normal life. He doesn't even remember me. That is better for everyone.”
Spike shook his head. “Not you.”
“Especially me. I gave him that, the only good thing I ever did for him. It's worth the pain. I don't want him back because it was killing him, this life. I just wish things had been...” Angel paused. “... different.”
Spike watched him, then nodded slowly. “Okay. But the offer still stands.”
Angel grinned, the melancholy melting away again. “And that's why you're a good man.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “Vampire.”
“Whatever.” Angel laughed softly then reached out to capture Spike's hand, pulling him closer. Spike quirked his eyebrow at him, glancing quickly down at the towel before looking up again.
“Angel? Why are you-”
“But that wasn't all I thought about those four hours.” He raised his eyebrows and licked his lips suggestively.
Spike bit his own lip, worrying it nervously. “No?”
“You know, this is the first time I've seen you in sunlight. Candles and electric light don't really capture it.”
He watched Spike's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “What?”
“Your beauty.” Angel ignored Spike's rolling eyes and ran his fingers up his side, finally resting his hand on Spike's neck, pulling him even closer. “Made me want to get out my sketch block and pencils for the first time in years. Try to preserve it, in case...” He swallowed, the cockiness failing slightly. “... you went away.”
Spike laboured breath brushed Angel's cheek. “I'm not going anywhere.”
“Good.” Angel ran his fingers through Spike's hair, his other hand letting go of Spike's wrist to rest on his waist, two fingers slipping underneath the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back. “Good.” He closed his eyes and leaned their foreheads together. “Your face... It was warm from the sun and I wanted... I wanted to touch your chest, to know if it had the same warmth.”
“Angel...”
“And then I thought, no. It doesn't matter whether it's warm or cool, if it's bathed in sunshine or moonlight. If your skin is as unblemished as the day you were turned or scarred by events I don't even know about. What matters is that it's you and you're here and the reasons for pushing you away are less important than the reasons why I want you to stay. If you want to stay.”
“Angel, I-”
“Fuck.” The uncharacteristic cursing made Spike jump but Angel only held him tighter, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. “I'm no good at this, Will. I keep losing people. I love them and they die or leave or turn evil and I think... maybe this is all I get. To live forever, watching everyone I love fade away. But then here's you and...” He hitched his breath when Spike lay his arms around him, pulling him close.
“I might still die. Or turn evil.” Spike smiled against his chest. “But I won't leave, okay? I promise you I won't leave.”
Angel nodded and then he raised his head. His eyes were almost black. “I keep remembering you, the way you were. The way we were. And wondering why...” He stopped. “I think... maybe I've been stupid.”
Spike looked at him and then a small smile tugged at the corner of his lip. “I think there's no maybe about that, love.” He laughed at Angel's attempt to look offended when all he obviously felt was relief.
“Takes two, you know.” The smile contradicted his tone.
Spike grinned. “Oh, I know. I know all about that.”
The kiss was soft and surprisingly sweet. It was everything he remembered and still different and for a blink of a second Angel felt a stab of jealousy imagining who Spike had practised with, then feeling stupid when he remembered Drusilla, again jealous but in a different way when he remembered Buffy and finally stupid when he realised he was thinking when he should be doing far better things.
After all, he'd learned a couple of new things himself through the years. And he was not above sharing his secrets.
fin
Man, we promised the kids we would go see Ice Age 2 today. They stopped showing it yesterday. *headdesk*
It was also supposed to be funny (as the icon indicates) but right from the beginning... Well, this is way more schmoopy than my usual stuff and frankly a bit girly. Oh well, we all know they're total girls underneath all that cockiness. Oh, and do I ever write without angst? Nope, not this time either. Erm... the titel is an Icelandic proverb (Köttur í bóli bjarnar) that makes no sense to you lot probably but it just fit so perfectly.
Spangel. 3141 words.
Written for aschicca based on this icon:
A Cat in a Bear's Den
“Stupid demon blowing its stinking self up in my...” Angel stepped out of the elevator into the penthouse, his muttering coming to a halt as his nostrils flared. “Spike?”
No answer but there was no disguising that scent, not even with layers of demon goo coating his face. Frowning he pulled off his ruined coat and discarded it in a heap on the floor, kicking off his shoes and peeling off the soaked socks before walking gingerly across the living room to turn on the light in the bedroom.
“Spike?”
The silent form lying on his bed didn't react, except for the soft light of the morning sun dancing on the naked skin as the chest rose once, expelling a soft sigh.
Angel swallowed. This was... unexpected. He shifted uncomfortably, his wet feet already sticking to the floor. He was pretty sure this was the moment where he was supposed to snarl and send Spike flying off the bed and onto the floor in a tangle of naked limbs and startled confusion. That was probably why Spike was here in the first place, to start another fight with his usual annoying insolence. Except he'd fallen asleep, tired of waiting, no doubt after soiling the sheets with drops of whiskey and...
Angel swallowed again. Then he turned around and walked quietly into the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him. Shower first. Explaining to himself why he hadn't reacted the rational way could wait until he didn't smell like vomit mating with a sewer.
Twenty minutes later he was again standing in the same spot, a damp towel around his waist, considerably cleaner but just as conflicted. Spike hadn't moved, no wonder judging from the empty bottle lying on the floor beside the bed, but emotions were rippling across his face, painful twitches and frowns that had Angel reaching out, only stopping inches away when he realised what he was doing. A moments hesitation and then he took a step closer, fingers stroking soothingly over the ridges now forming on Spike's brow.
The skin was slightly drier than he remembered, as if weathered by years gone by, but still so familiarly smooth. There was a time he would have been able to map out every inch of Spike's body, just from memory, but now he realised that time had marked him, leaving scars and imprints on his body that he, Angel, knew nothing about. Leaving without doubt even deeper scars on his soul and heart.
Spike sighed in his sleep, rubbing his face against Angel's hand and he froze, then slowly pulled away. The ridges returned and Spike hitched his breath, eyes moving frantically under the translucent eyelids, lips twitching into a frown. Angel watched him struggle for a while, unsure, but then he couldn't hold back any longer. He sat down on the edge of the bed, laying a palm on Spike's cheek. He stilled instantly, his face turning smooth and peaceful and after a while he started snoring softly, whatever nightmares had troubled him obviously chased away.
Angel didn't move. The sun rose higher and he knew soon they would be expecting him downstairs, never mind being a creature of the night and that he hadn't had a decent sleep in weeks. Maybe Spike was right. Maybe he had sold out, sold his soul for thirty pieces of silver and his son's happiness. He suddenly felt more tired than he had in a long time but still he didn't move away.
Hours later, when Angel's arm was starting to ache and his ass felt numb from sitting in the same position, Spike finally stirred. His nose wrinkled, sniffling childishly, and his eyelashes quivered on his cheek. Then a hand came up, swatting at the imagined fly that was Angel's fingertips before rubbing with trembling fingers the faintly bluish eyelids. He groaned and scowled, wiping the trail of saliva from the corner of his mouth before slowly blinking his eyes open. Then he froze.
“Morning. Sleep well?”
Spike blinked some more, then seemed to notice Angel's palm that was still resting on his cheek and raised his own hand, as if wanting to feel if it was real or not. Angel didn't pull away and for a moment they staid still, Spike's hand covering Angel's. Finally Spike swallowed, licking his lips nervously.
“Yeah. Thanks. Angel...”
“You were having nightmares,” Angel said quickly as if that would explain everything. “So I... yeah. You know.” He could feel himself blushing slightly but he still didn't move away.
“Uhuh.” Spike hesitated. “Thanks.” He bit his lip, his eyes shifting slightly before settling on Angel's again. “You're probably wondering...” He stopped then started again. “I fell asleep. Was waiting for you and...” He paused again. “Sorry.”
The word seemed to surprise him as much as Angel. There was an awkward silence and then Angel shook his head. “Don't be.” His face fell blank and he pulled away from Spike's hand. It fell with a soft thud on the mattress and Spike stared at it for a second like he'd suddenly realised what he'd been doing.
“Why?”
Spike 's head snapped up, a frown on his face. “Why what?”
“Why were you waiting for me?”
“Oh.” This time it was Spike's turn to close off. “Bored. You could have asked me to come with you, mate. Could use a good fight.” He shrugged.
“Since when do you need to be asked?”
Spike averted his eyes briefly before looking up at him with a bored expression. “Not felt particularly wanted lately, have I? With all the 'get lost, Spike' and 'why are you here?' thrown my way.”
Angel winced inwardly but kept his gaze. “Hasn't stopped you before.”
“Yeah well...” Spike's voice trailed off and he twitched his lips. “Things change.”
Angel nodded slowly. “Yes. They do. Look, Spike...”
Spike sat abruptly up, forcing Angel to jerk back to keep Spike's head from connecting with his nose. He scooted back a few inches, his numb ass and achy back protesting. Why hadn't he just lain down on the bed? It was his bed after all. Suddenly the whole thing seemed even more stupid than before. He felt stupid, and from the look in Spike's eyes he was thinking the exact same thing but he didn't smirk, just shrugged and looked around, assumingly for his clothes.
“Yeah, whatever. Next time just let me know, all right? Not like you can really trust any of the others to watch your back.”
Angel gave him an incredulous look. “You saying you are more trustworthy than them?”
The bored expression shifted for one that almost looked like hurt for a split second but just as quickly it changed back and Spike rolled his eyes. “I'm saying I'm not a fragile human so you don't have to worry 'bout me all the time. You forget I know what it's like, hunting with their kind. Half the time you're saving them from their own stupidity. They can't hear, can't smell, move too slow and one hit is all it takes to knock them out. At least with me you know I can hold my own.” He looked away, clenching his jaw. “And yes, Angel, you can trust me. Thought you'd figured that out by now.”
He moved to stand up but Angel grabbed his wrist, holding him still.
“I know. And I do. More or less. When it matters at least. You're wrong though.”
Spike raised his eyebrow irritably. “Yeah? About what?”
“Me not worrying.”
Spike stared at him. Then he looked down at the hand holding his wrist which was when Angel realised he was rubbing his thumb over it in slow circles. He stopped, then after a moment's thought started again, eyes meeting Spike's when he raised his gaze.
“You have an odd way of showing it then. Angel...” Spike swallowed. “What are you doing?”
“Worrying.” Angel winked then lifted Spike's wrist and kissed it lightly.
Spike gave a nervous laugh. “About my wrist?”
“About you.”
“Have you been drinking?”
Angel chuckled. “No.”
“Is this a spell?” Spike looked around. “Not on Candid Camera, am I?”
Angel shook his head in amusement, then reached over to rest his palm on Spike's cheek again, his smile dropping when Spike instinctively flinched. Barely noticeable but still enough. He didn't pull away though but tipped up Spike's face so he looked straight at him. “You want to know why I've been sitting here for four hours, just watching you?”
Spike blinked. “Four...?” He froze, his nostrils flaring. “Angelus?”
Angel sighed. “No. Will you stop being so damn suspicious and just listen to me?” He waited while Spike studied him, the sudden fear slowly fading from his eyes. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” Spike looked slightly sheepish. “Sorry.”
“Twice in one day.” Angel raised his eyes heavenward. “There must be a god.”
“Funny.” Spike shot him a suspicious glance. “Look, what am I supposed to think when you suddenly go all touchy feely on me?”
“That I care about you.”
Spike blinked, then his face turned hard. “Okay, now I know you've gone insane. Let me go, Angel.” But he didn't try to get away, his jaw only ticking slightly under Angel's fingers, suspicious eyes locked with Angel's calm ones.
“I've been sitting here for four hours, Spike, watching you. And thinking a whole lot about you and me and why things are the way they are between us.”
Spike snorted. “Yeah? Well, I can tell you why. Because you're a pompous ass, that's why. Because you walked out on me over a hundred years ago without so much as saying goodbye, that's why. Because since then you've been nothing but a bloody pain in my...”
“Spike, please.” Angel let go of Spike's chin to rub his own face tiredly before continuing. “I'm not saying you're not right because you are. Okay, maybe not about the pompous ass thing but...” He sighed when Spike didn't even smile. “Anyway, what I realised is that it's not you. You haven't changed, not really. You're just as annoying, just as loud and obnoxious and...”
“Oi!”
“... all the other things that made me love you in the first place.” He nodded at Spike's shocked look. “Except now you're more.”
The blue eyes grew wary again. “This where the soul comes in? I'm better because I have a soul now. Just like you, papa.” Spike's voice was sarcastic but it shook slightly.
“No. The soul has very little to do with anything.” Angel caught himself. “No, that's not true. It is important, very important. But it's had much less to do with who you are than my soul had with making me the man I am today.”
“Not a man,” Spike muttered.
“Vampire. Whatever. Will you stop interrupting me?” He gave Spike a glare. “What I'm trying to say is that you have grown into someone who would have given Angelus, me, a run for his money. And someone who makes me, Angel, very... proud.”
Spike frowned. “Come again?”
Angel sighed and tried again. “You've grown as a vampire and you've grown as a man. And you handle balancing those two a lot better than I do. You take the best of both and together... Well, you're a good man. And I might be a bit jealous.” He smiled awkwardly.
“Oh.” Spike bit his lip. “Not a man,” he then repeated absentmindedly as he wrinkled his brow in thought.
“A good vampire then.” Angel sighed. “Which sounds so stupid. Can you just let me call you a man this one time?”
“What?” Spike looked up. “Yeah, whatever.” He leaned back on his elbows, staring at Angel with a mix of incredulity and irritation in his eyes. “You telling me you're jealous? That's what this whole thing has been about? You ignoring me and wanting to get rid off me and pretty much being a bastard these last months?” He rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell, how old are you? Twelve?”
“Hey! And it wasn't just that.” Angel shot him a look. “You didn't help, you know. First thing you did was attack me.”
“Well, yeah.” Spike did his best 'duh' expression. “You try being burnt to crisp then materialising again, mate. I wasn't really feeling amicable. And you!” He pointed his finger at Angel. “You didn't exactly give me a warm welcome, did you? I saw that look. You wanted to torch me all over again.”
“I did not-!” Angel gritted his teeth. “It was a shock, okay? Spent the summer grieving for you and Connor and everyone else I've lost and suddenly you're back. You and not him and this is Wolfram & Hart, you know. For all I knew it was some scam, trying to lure me to...” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I'm sorry. All right? It's good to have you back. More than good. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Who's Connor?”
Angel snapped his eyes open. “What?”
Spike was watching him, eyes dark and unreadable. “You said you spent the summer grieving for Connor. Who's Connor?” He pursed his lips. “First time I've heard of him. He another of your dirty little secrets?”
Angel stared at him. “He's... We're not talking about him.”
“Yeah? You turn him? A pretty one, right? You always liked 'em pretty.”
“Spike, will you just... “ Angel gritted his teeth. “Why do you have to be so difficult? I'm trying to tell you-”
“And then I came back. Not him. And that's why you hate me because you loved him and I'm just-”
“He's my son, all right? He's my son, Spike.” Angel stood up. “He's my damn son and I would give anything to have him back, even you.” Ignoring Spike's shocked look he turned around and stalked out of the room.
He stood hunched over, leaning against the couch, trying to breathe the anger and grief away when Spike came up behind him, stopping a few feet short. Angel could see his bare feet underneath worn denim and he closed his eyes again, suddenly painfully aware that he was only wearing a tiny towel himself. He felt cold.
“If it could bring him back I wouldn't mind... going.”
Angel froze. Then he slowly straightened up and turned around. Spike was staring down at his toes, thin arms hugging his bare chest.
“Wasn't meant to be here anyway, was I? Supposed to be dead. And he... he should be here. I guess. So... yeah.” He shrugged. “Better for everyone. Maybe we can work something out. Do some...”
“You just proved my point.”
Spike looked up, frowning. “What?”
“He's not dead, Spike. Not really. He's just... being someone else. Far away from me, leading a normal life. He doesn't even remember me. That is better for everyone.”
Spike shook his head. “Not you.”
“Especially me. I gave him that, the only good thing I ever did for him. It's worth the pain. I don't want him back because it was killing him, this life. I just wish things had been...” Angel paused. “... different.”
Spike watched him, then nodded slowly. “Okay. But the offer still stands.”
Angel grinned, the melancholy melting away again. “And that's why you're a good man.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “Vampire.”
“Whatever.” Angel laughed softly then reached out to capture Spike's hand, pulling him closer. Spike quirked his eyebrow at him, glancing quickly down at the towel before looking up again.
“Angel? Why are you-”
“But that wasn't all I thought about those four hours.” He raised his eyebrows and licked his lips suggestively.
Spike bit his own lip, worrying it nervously. “No?”
“You know, this is the first time I've seen you in sunlight. Candles and electric light don't really capture it.”
He watched Spike's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “What?”
“Your beauty.” Angel ignored Spike's rolling eyes and ran his fingers up his side, finally resting his hand on Spike's neck, pulling him even closer. “Made me want to get out my sketch block and pencils for the first time in years. Try to preserve it, in case...” He swallowed, the cockiness failing slightly. “... you went away.”
Spike laboured breath brushed Angel's cheek. “I'm not going anywhere.”
“Good.” Angel ran his fingers through Spike's hair, his other hand letting go of Spike's wrist to rest on his waist, two fingers slipping underneath the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back. “Good.” He closed his eyes and leaned their foreheads together. “Your face... It was warm from the sun and I wanted... I wanted to touch your chest, to know if it had the same warmth.”
“Angel...”
“And then I thought, no. It doesn't matter whether it's warm or cool, if it's bathed in sunshine or moonlight. If your skin is as unblemished as the day you were turned or scarred by events I don't even know about. What matters is that it's you and you're here and the reasons for pushing you away are less important than the reasons why I want you to stay. If you want to stay.”
“Angel, I-”
“Fuck.” The uncharacteristic cursing made Spike jump but Angel only held him tighter, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. “I'm no good at this, Will. I keep losing people. I love them and they die or leave or turn evil and I think... maybe this is all I get. To live forever, watching everyone I love fade away. But then here's you and...” He hitched his breath when Spike lay his arms around him, pulling him close.
“I might still die. Or turn evil.” Spike smiled against his chest. “But I won't leave, okay? I promise you I won't leave.”
Angel nodded and then he raised his head. His eyes were almost black. “I keep remembering you, the way you were. The way we were. And wondering why...” He stopped. “I think... maybe I've been stupid.”
Spike looked at him and then a small smile tugged at the corner of his lip. “I think there's no maybe about that, love.” He laughed at Angel's attempt to look offended when all he obviously felt was relief.
“Takes two, you know.” The smile contradicted his tone.
Spike grinned. “Oh, I know. I know all about that.”
The kiss was soft and surprisingly sweet. It was everything he remembered and still different and for a blink of a second Angel felt a stab of jealousy imagining who Spike had practised with, then feeling stupid when he remembered Drusilla, again jealous but in a different way when he remembered Buffy and finally stupid when he realised he was thinking when he should be doing far better things.
After all, he'd learned a couple of new things himself through the years. And he was not above sharing his secrets.
fin
Man, we promised the kids we would go see Ice Age 2 today. They stopped showing it yesterday. *headdesk*