Fic: The Fire Within, Chapter 9. AU Human. Liam/Spike. NC-17
I was looking over what I've been posting the last couple of weeks and... Man, I'm the most boring person ever. Where did all the fun go? *sighs*
So I thought I'd give you this. A little plot but not much else. Short one. Better than nothing though, right? Right? *sighs again* I feel like I'm losing people with this one. Or maybe the interest in Spangel is really just dwindling as everyone's saying. I don't know. Oh well, not much I can do about that except keep going.
Title: The Fire Within, chapter 9
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Author's note: Thank you to azure_k_mello and bethlehem2 for the LA info. I finally went with Mid-Wilshire. Not that iot really matters, not exactly writing Nobel prize material here. *g*
Previous chapters are here
The Fire Within, Chapter 9
“Like riding a bike. Right, Liam?” Harris grinned and punched Liam in the shoulder before pulling out his handkerchief to wipe most of the soot off his face.
“You guys act like I’ve been away for years, not a few weeks. Cut the crap, will ya.” But he was smiling, the weight of the jacket reassuring on his shoulders. His nostrils itched, his face was flushed from the heat and the skin around his scar was prickling from the exertion. It felt great.
“It’s just because we’ve missed you, old man. This place hasn’t been the same without you. I swear, it’s been absolutely brood free.” Gunn winked and Liam slapped him upside the head.
“Shut up. You just missed my awesome coffee. Jesse been poisoning you with his shit, hasn’t he?”
“Fuck, yes. Please, for the love of God, never leave us again!”
“Fuck you.” Jesse flipped them the finger before climbing into the truck and Liam laughed. He felt good. He felt great. Why the fuck he’d allowed himself to sink so low in depression, he had no idea.
“You’re in a good mood,” Gunn grinned, wiping the sweat off his bald head before buckling up. “Been enjoying some R&R?”
The smile faltered and he shot Gunn a glare. “Getting away from you guys obviously has that effect. I’m sure to be back to my old sour self in no time.”
Gunn’s grin stiffened. “Looks to me like you’re back already. Look, I’m just happy you’re happy. No need to bite my head off.”
Liam held his glare but then his face fell and he looked away. “Sorry. I’m just… It’s good to be back.”
He offered a smile and after a while Gunn returned the grin and slapped his arm. “So how about that coffee when we get in?”
“You’re such a shithead, Chuck.”
“And that’s why you love me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Bitch.” Liam leaned back and closed his eyes, smiling. Life was definitely good.
---------------
Fuck, his day was crap. It started out badly and had only gotten worse. First he overslept and didn’t have time for neither a shower nor a cup of coffee. Then Kate was sick and he got paired up with the Summers girl. Not that she was bad, actually she was a pretty good cop, but she just… Wouldn’t. Shut. Up. Going on and on about shoes and makeup and detective Riley that she’d just started seeing and…
“God! Like… men! So clueless, sometimes, you know?”
Made him wonder if she thought him being gay meant he was a woman and would 1) actually be interested in shoes and 2) not take offence for his gender. However there didn’t seem to be much point arguing, mostly because he hardly ever got a word in, so he just nodded and grunted and rolled his eyes or smiled at the appropriate moments.
“It’s so nice to talk to a guy that actually listens, you know?”
“Uhuh.”
He wondered how Liam was doing. It was his first day back after almost three weeks away and even if it was good for him to get out and back into routine Spike couldn’t help worrying that he wasn’t all there yet. No exercise, lots of beer and dulling his brain with first painkillers and then endless television had rendered Liam out of shape and unfocused, both of which he couldn’t afford on the job. And despite Spike or occasionally Gunn popping over to keep him company most evenings, being cooped up all day had a very bad effect on his temper, leaving him edgy and quick to anger.
“So I told him, ‘Riley, just because you’re a detective and I’m still on the street that doesn’t mean you’re any better than me. I could kick your ass any day.’ And he was all ‘Yeah, right’ and actually laughed so I just had to, you know.”
“Yeah, of course.” He glanced at her, trying to figure out what she was talking about.
“And then he has the nerve to call me aggressive! Me! Just because he can’t handle being tackled and held down by a girl. I mean, what does he think I am? A cheerleader? I’m a goddamn cop, this is what I do. Personally I think that desk job is making him soft.”
He grinned. Big Riley face down and straddled by this tiny little bit? He would have paid money to see that.
“So the next day I’m all ‘Hey, maybe we should spar. That could be fun. Yay!’ And he just looks at me with this scowl and says ‘No thanks’ and didn’t even want to have sex. What’s up with that?”
She gazed at him expectantly and he tried to look interested as he thought of a reply.
“Well… sounds to me like he has some self esteem issues. You need to keep him thinking he’s still the man in your relationship. It’s a guy thing. Something to do with being macho.”
“Huh.” She pursed her lips in thought. “What, like I should bat my eyes and wear an apron or something? Cook him dinner? All that ‘Honey, I’m home’ crap?” She rolled her eyes.
He chuckled. “The apron probably wouldn’t hurt. But I was thinking more in the lines of asking him to open a jar or something because you can’t, being the weak little woman.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “He usually asks me to open them for him.” She looked down in her lap, flexing her fingers. “I got really strong hands.”
“Well, then I don’t know, luv. You could admire his muscles or something. And remind him that he makes more money than you. Blokes like that.”
She sighed. “Like I said, men! They’re all wacky.”
“Tell me about it.”
He zoned out as she once again started up on the Fall Fashion.
What wouldn’t he do for a nice burglary right about now? Even a 7/11 hold up would be nice. Or save a kitten. Whatever.
So, so bored.
When his shift was finally over he was feeling wired, itchy. Too much energy built up from doing almost nothing but cruise in the car all day. Had to be the slowest day in LA history.
A shower and a cup of noodle soup later he was pacing the apartment. He hadn’t made any plans with Liam, any more than usual. It was a thing they did, Liam pretended like he didn’t really need Spike and Spike pretended he was the one who was bored and pathetic. Which, to tell the truth, wasn’t exactly a lie. He’d been quite content to spend his evenings reading or watching telly, maybe going out for the occasional drink. Not caring that he didn’t really know anyone or that apart from work he was very much alone. Until Liam. Now he felt restless and so very very bored and found himself staring at the phone, willing it to ring.
When it suddenly did he had to hold himself back from snatching the phone, letting it ring a couple of times before hitting the button.
“Yeah?”
“William Brent?”
He frowned. “Yes.”
“This is officer Moore of the LA police. Are you the owner of a black DeSoto ’59, licence plate HIA 873?”
What now? “Yeah. What’s this about?”
“When is the last time you saw your vehicle, sir?”
“Look, I’m a cop. Just tell me what’s up, alright?”
There was a small pause of silence and then the man on the other end cleared his throat. “Looks like someone set it on fire. Not much left of it. Sir.” The last word was said with a sneer but it hardly registered. Spike was already putting on his jacket and grabbing his keys from the small table by the door.
“Where?”
“Mid Wilshire. On the corner of West 4th and Crescent.”
“I’m on my way.”
He disconnected, then called for a cab. Shit. Ordinary vandals or…? He contemplated calling Liam but realised he wouldn’t be off his shift for another hour. What would he ask Liam to do anyway? Hold his hand while he cried over his car? His car… God! He’d had her for so long, she was his baby, and now… He took a deep breath and ran down the stairs to await the cab. He could panic later.
The cab rounded the corner and it was like entering a war zone. Two police cars with blinking lights blocked the street, a fire truck was parked to the side, police men and firemen were hovering around what had been his beloved Dru. He threw the driver a twenty and got out of the cab, unable to take his eyes of the still smoking wreck.
“Fuck, Will. It’s yours, right?”
Spike turned his head, eyes slowly focusing on the man beside him. “Yeah. Do they know who…?” His eyes flickered over to the group of firemen now leaning against the fire truck, watching him. His heart leapt when he caught sight of Liam but before he managed to make eye contact Liam looked away and started talking to a thin gangly guy standing beside him. He quickly focused back on Lindsey who had followed his gaze and was frowning in Liam’s direction.
“Linds, they know who did this?”
This time when the blue eyes met his they were sparkling with anger. “No. Got a good guess though.”
He held out his hand, the side mirror held tight in his fist. The word ‘fag’ was written across the sooty surface with a black marker. Spike suddenly felt nauseous and if there hadn’t been so many watching him he might have sat down on the ground, giving in to his shaky legs. Instead he turned away and stared at Dru, trying to see a glimpse of her beauty beneath the ugly. Nothing.
“Fuck.”
“You can say that again. Fucking assholes, man. I swear, when we catch him I’ll shove that ugly helmet right up his ass.”
Spike whipped around, staring at Lindsey wide eyed. “You think Larry did this?”
Lindsey clenched his jaw and glanced over at the firemen. “Maybe. He was damned pissed. Strikes me as just the kind who would.”
“He’s a fireman. He wouldn’t…”
“Means he knows all the best way to do a thing like this and not get caught. I bet you they won’t find anything.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
Faith came stalking over, looking just as angry as her partners. “Hey, Will. Shitty thing to happen to your car.”
“Yeah.” He felt numb, his brain stuck on single syllable words. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Anything worth salvaging?”
She shook her head. “Not really. It burnt up pretty bad. Everything’s either burnt or melted except the frame and that’s looking fucking banged up.”
He nodded, unable to process. “Okay. Do I need to do anything? You want a report or…?”
“Just wondering when you saw it last.”
He tried to lift the fog enough to think. “Last night. But when I came home from work just now I didn’t even… Shit, I didn’t even notice she wasn’t there.”
Faith frowned. “She?”
“Dru.” At her confused look he gestured tiredly at the wreckage. “The car. Her name is… was… Fuck.”
“Okay. I don’t really have to ask you about enemies, I know about Larry firsthand. Unless there’s someone else…”
“You mean beside the whole LAPD and LAFD and all the other bigoted wankers inhabiting this city? No, can’t think of a single one.”
His voice sounded bitter and angry but he didn’t care. He looked over at Liam again and his anger was fuelled even further when he saw him just standing there, laughing with his friends. His eyes snatched back to Faith who was watching him warily. “Can I go now? I’ve got a killer headache.”
She nodded and patted his arm. “Sure. I’ll talk to you tomorrow for more details.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
He turned around only to realise the cab was long gone, he’d forgotten his cell phone and he had no car anymore. His shoulders slumped, the lump in his throat painful. Fuck. He really wanted to hit something.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
Lindsey patted his back and stalked to a truck parked by the sidewalk, giving Faith a wave. That’s when Spike first noticed neither of them were wearing their uniforms. Of course not, they’d gotten off their shift at the same time he did.
“What were you doing here?”
Lindsey shrugged and slammed the door behind him before turning the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life. “Moore the moron called me. Knew I knew you. Thought maybe you’d make a big gay drama queen scene. I was having a drink with Faith and she came with.”
Spike closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the seat. “Fuck.” He half-opened his eyes, glancing at the man beside him. “Thanks. For coming. And driving me home.”
“Don’t mention it.” Lindsey leaned back, one hand loosely on the steering wheel, the other stretched along the back of the seats. “That’s what friends are for. Speaking of which…” His fingers tapped the wheel. “What’s up with you and Liam?”
Spike’s eyes snatched open. “What?”
“Thought you two were buddies.”
Spike’s stomach twisted. “Not like we’re friends. We just had lunch.”
“Well, that’s enough in my book to be considered buddies. And still he just stood there, not looking bothered at all. Struck me as odd, that’s all.”
Spike looked away. “Yeah, well. Liam’s not really the “buddy” type. Not sure he likes any people at all.”
Lindsey glanced over. “No? Kind of a jerk?”
“Nah, he’s alright. Just… a loner, I think.”
“Huh.” Lindsey nodded. “So, you like him?”
“Sure.”
“No, I mean, do you like him?” Lindsey’s tone was even, his face blank. “You know.”
Spike stared at him. He could feel his cheeks heating up and his right hand did a small twitch. “No.” Fuck you, Liam, for making me do this.
“It’s alright. I get it.” Lindsey looked over and offered him a small grin. “He did save your ass after all. Nothing wrong with a little hero-worshipping. ‘Course, I’m feeling put out, not being worshipped myself.”
Spike snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll build you a bloody altar.”
“Hey! I did save you from that shithead Larry, you know. You oughta buy me a beer.” Lindsey stuck out his chin and flexed his muscles. “Being your hero and all.”
Spike gave him a tired smile, then knitted his brow in thought. He didn’t really want to go home and grieve over his beloved Dru, all alone. And he sure as hell didn’t want to see or even talk to Liam. “Ok, I’ll buy you a beer. Where you wanna go?”
“What, now?” Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “Thought you had a headache.”
“Nothing a pint and a few shots won’t clear. You’re off tomorrow too, right? Got any plans?”
“No, not really. Unless you count a six-pack and tonight’s game. You want in?”
He’d been thinking more of going to a bar but what the hell. “Not intruding on anything, am I?”
Lindsey shook his head. “Just me and my couch.”
“Sounds brilliant. I’ll pay for the pizza.”
“You’re on.” Lindsey flashed Spike a smile and he felt some of the darkness bleed away. “You wanna stop at your place or…?”
“Not really. Just want to get pissed, mate.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Lindsey took a right turn at the next lights and Spike leaned back again, closing his eyes.
Continued here.
So I thought I'd give you this. A little plot but not much else. Short one. Better than nothing though, right? Right? *sighs again* I feel like I'm losing people with this one. Or maybe the interest in Spangel is really just dwindling as everyone's saying. I don't know. Oh well, not much I can do about that except keep going.
Title: The Fire Within, chapter 9
Author: felisblanco
Pairing: Liam/Spike
Rating: NC-17
Author's note: Thank you to azure_k_mello and bethlehem2 for the LA info. I finally went with Mid-Wilshire. Not that iot really matters, not exactly writing Nobel prize material here. *g*
Previous chapters are here
The Fire Within, Chapter 9
“Like riding a bike. Right, Liam?” Harris grinned and punched Liam in the shoulder before pulling out his handkerchief to wipe most of the soot off his face.
“You guys act like I’ve been away for years, not a few weeks. Cut the crap, will ya.” But he was smiling, the weight of the jacket reassuring on his shoulders. His nostrils itched, his face was flushed from the heat and the skin around his scar was prickling from the exertion. It felt great.
“It’s just because we’ve missed you, old man. This place hasn’t been the same without you. I swear, it’s been absolutely brood free.” Gunn winked and Liam slapped him upside the head.
“Shut up. You just missed my awesome coffee. Jesse been poisoning you with his shit, hasn’t he?”
“Fuck, yes. Please, for the love of God, never leave us again!”
“Fuck you.” Jesse flipped them the finger before climbing into the truck and Liam laughed. He felt good. He felt great. Why the fuck he’d allowed himself to sink so low in depression, he had no idea.
“You’re in a good mood,” Gunn grinned, wiping the sweat off his bald head before buckling up. “Been enjoying some R&R?”
The smile faltered and he shot Gunn a glare. “Getting away from you guys obviously has that effect. I’m sure to be back to my old sour self in no time.”
Gunn’s grin stiffened. “Looks to me like you’re back already. Look, I’m just happy you’re happy. No need to bite my head off.”
Liam held his glare but then his face fell and he looked away. “Sorry. I’m just… It’s good to be back.”
He offered a smile and after a while Gunn returned the grin and slapped his arm. “So how about that coffee when we get in?”
“You’re such a shithead, Chuck.”
“And that’s why you love me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Bitch.” Liam leaned back and closed his eyes, smiling. Life was definitely good.
---------------
Fuck, his day was crap. It started out badly and had only gotten worse. First he overslept and didn’t have time for neither a shower nor a cup of coffee. Then Kate was sick and he got paired up with the Summers girl. Not that she was bad, actually she was a pretty good cop, but she just… Wouldn’t. Shut. Up. Going on and on about shoes and makeup and detective Riley that she’d just started seeing and…
“God! Like… men! So clueless, sometimes, you know?”
Made him wonder if she thought him being gay meant he was a woman and would 1) actually be interested in shoes and 2) not take offence for his gender. However there didn’t seem to be much point arguing, mostly because he hardly ever got a word in, so he just nodded and grunted and rolled his eyes or smiled at the appropriate moments.
“It’s so nice to talk to a guy that actually listens, you know?”
“Uhuh.”
He wondered how Liam was doing. It was his first day back after almost three weeks away and even if it was good for him to get out and back into routine Spike couldn’t help worrying that he wasn’t all there yet. No exercise, lots of beer and dulling his brain with first painkillers and then endless television had rendered Liam out of shape and unfocused, both of which he couldn’t afford on the job. And despite Spike or occasionally Gunn popping over to keep him company most evenings, being cooped up all day had a very bad effect on his temper, leaving him edgy and quick to anger.
“So I told him, ‘Riley, just because you’re a detective and I’m still on the street that doesn’t mean you’re any better than me. I could kick your ass any day.’ And he was all ‘Yeah, right’ and actually laughed so I just had to, you know.”
“Yeah, of course.” He glanced at her, trying to figure out what she was talking about.
“And then he has the nerve to call me aggressive! Me! Just because he can’t handle being tackled and held down by a girl. I mean, what does he think I am? A cheerleader? I’m a goddamn cop, this is what I do. Personally I think that desk job is making him soft.”
He grinned. Big Riley face down and straddled by this tiny little bit? He would have paid money to see that.
“So the next day I’m all ‘Hey, maybe we should spar. That could be fun. Yay!’ And he just looks at me with this scowl and says ‘No thanks’ and didn’t even want to have sex. What’s up with that?”
She gazed at him expectantly and he tried to look interested as he thought of a reply.
“Well… sounds to me like he has some self esteem issues. You need to keep him thinking he’s still the man in your relationship. It’s a guy thing. Something to do with being macho.”
“Huh.” She pursed her lips in thought. “What, like I should bat my eyes and wear an apron or something? Cook him dinner? All that ‘Honey, I’m home’ crap?” She rolled her eyes.
He chuckled. “The apron probably wouldn’t hurt. But I was thinking more in the lines of asking him to open a jar or something because you can’t, being the weak little woman.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “He usually asks me to open them for him.” She looked down in her lap, flexing her fingers. “I got really strong hands.”
“Well, then I don’t know, luv. You could admire his muscles or something. And remind him that he makes more money than you. Blokes like that.”
She sighed. “Like I said, men! They’re all wacky.”
“Tell me about it.”
He zoned out as she once again started up on the Fall Fashion.
What wouldn’t he do for a nice burglary right about now? Even a 7/11 hold up would be nice. Or save a kitten. Whatever.
So, so bored.
When his shift was finally over he was feeling wired, itchy. Too much energy built up from doing almost nothing but cruise in the car all day. Had to be the slowest day in LA history.
A shower and a cup of noodle soup later he was pacing the apartment. He hadn’t made any plans with Liam, any more than usual. It was a thing they did, Liam pretended like he didn’t really need Spike and Spike pretended he was the one who was bored and pathetic. Which, to tell the truth, wasn’t exactly a lie. He’d been quite content to spend his evenings reading or watching telly, maybe going out for the occasional drink. Not caring that he didn’t really know anyone or that apart from work he was very much alone. Until Liam. Now he felt restless and so very very bored and found himself staring at the phone, willing it to ring.
When it suddenly did he had to hold himself back from snatching the phone, letting it ring a couple of times before hitting the button.
“Yeah?”
“William Brent?”
He frowned. “Yes.”
“This is officer Moore of the LA police. Are you the owner of a black DeSoto ’59, licence plate HIA 873?”
What now? “Yeah. What’s this about?”
“When is the last time you saw your vehicle, sir?”
“Look, I’m a cop. Just tell me what’s up, alright?”
There was a small pause of silence and then the man on the other end cleared his throat. “Looks like someone set it on fire. Not much left of it. Sir.” The last word was said with a sneer but it hardly registered. Spike was already putting on his jacket and grabbing his keys from the small table by the door.
“Where?”
“Mid Wilshire. On the corner of West 4th and Crescent.”
“I’m on my way.”
He disconnected, then called for a cab. Shit. Ordinary vandals or…? He contemplated calling Liam but realised he wouldn’t be off his shift for another hour. What would he ask Liam to do anyway? Hold his hand while he cried over his car? His car… God! He’d had her for so long, she was his baby, and now… He took a deep breath and ran down the stairs to await the cab. He could panic later.
The cab rounded the corner and it was like entering a war zone. Two police cars with blinking lights blocked the street, a fire truck was parked to the side, police men and firemen were hovering around what had been his beloved Dru. He threw the driver a twenty and got out of the cab, unable to take his eyes of the still smoking wreck.
“Fuck, Will. It’s yours, right?”
Spike turned his head, eyes slowly focusing on the man beside him. “Yeah. Do they know who…?” His eyes flickered over to the group of firemen now leaning against the fire truck, watching him. His heart leapt when he caught sight of Liam but before he managed to make eye contact Liam looked away and started talking to a thin gangly guy standing beside him. He quickly focused back on Lindsey who had followed his gaze and was frowning in Liam’s direction.
“Linds, they know who did this?”
This time when the blue eyes met his they were sparkling with anger. “No. Got a good guess though.”
He held out his hand, the side mirror held tight in his fist. The word ‘fag’ was written across the sooty surface with a black marker. Spike suddenly felt nauseous and if there hadn’t been so many watching him he might have sat down on the ground, giving in to his shaky legs. Instead he turned away and stared at Dru, trying to see a glimpse of her beauty beneath the ugly. Nothing.
“Fuck.”
“You can say that again. Fucking assholes, man. I swear, when we catch him I’ll shove that ugly helmet right up his ass.”
Spike whipped around, staring at Lindsey wide eyed. “You think Larry did this?”
Lindsey clenched his jaw and glanced over at the firemen. “Maybe. He was damned pissed. Strikes me as just the kind who would.”
“He’s a fireman. He wouldn’t…”
“Means he knows all the best way to do a thing like this and not get caught. I bet you they won’t find anything.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
Faith came stalking over, looking just as angry as her partners. “Hey, Will. Shitty thing to happen to your car.”
“Yeah.” He felt numb, his brain stuck on single syllable words. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Anything worth salvaging?”
She shook her head. “Not really. It burnt up pretty bad. Everything’s either burnt or melted except the frame and that’s looking fucking banged up.”
He nodded, unable to process. “Okay. Do I need to do anything? You want a report or…?”
“Just wondering when you saw it last.”
He tried to lift the fog enough to think. “Last night. But when I came home from work just now I didn’t even… Shit, I didn’t even notice she wasn’t there.”
Faith frowned. “She?”
“Dru.” At her confused look he gestured tiredly at the wreckage. “The car. Her name is… was… Fuck.”
“Okay. I don’t really have to ask you about enemies, I know about Larry firsthand. Unless there’s someone else…”
“You mean beside the whole LAPD and LAFD and all the other bigoted wankers inhabiting this city? No, can’t think of a single one.”
His voice sounded bitter and angry but he didn’t care. He looked over at Liam again and his anger was fuelled even further when he saw him just standing there, laughing with his friends. His eyes snatched back to Faith who was watching him warily. “Can I go now? I’ve got a killer headache.”
She nodded and patted his arm. “Sure. I’ll talk to you tomorrow for more details.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
He turned around only to realise the cab was long gone, he’d forgotten his cell phone and he had no car anymore. His shoulders slumped, the lump in his throat painful. Fuck. He really wanted to hit something.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
Lindsey patted his back and stalked to a truck parked by the sidewalk, giving Faith a wave. That’s when Spike first noticed neither of them were wearing their uniforms. Of course not, they’d gotten off their shift at the same time he did.
“What were you doing here?”
Lindsey shrugged and slammed the door behind him before turning the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life. “Moore the moron called me. Knew I knew you. Thought maybe you’d make a big gay drama queen scene. I was having a drink with Faith and she came with.”
Spike closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the seat. “Fuck.” He half-opened his eyes, glancing at the man beside him. “Thanks. For coming. And driving me home.”
“Don’t mention it.” Lindsey leaned back, one hand loosely on the steering wheel, the other stretched along the back of the seats. “That’s what friends are for. Speaking of which…” His fingers tapped the wheel. “What’s up with you and Liam?”
Spike’s eyes snatched open. “What?”
“Thought you two were buddies.”
Spike’s stomach twisted. “Not like we’re friends. We just had lunch.”
“Well, that’s enough in my book to be considered buddies. And still he just stood there, not looking bothered at all. Struck me as odd, that’s all.”
Spike looked away. “Yeah, well. Liam’s not really the “buddy” type. Not sure he likes any people at all.”
Lindsey glanced over. “No? Kind of a jerk?”
“Nah, he’s alright. Just… a loner, I think.”
“Huh.” Lindsey nodded. “So, you like him?”
“Sure.”
“No, I mean, do you like him?” Lindsey’s tone was even, his face blank. “You know.”
Spike stared at him. He could feel his cheeks heating up and his right hand did a small twitch. “No.” Fuck you, Liam, for making me do this.
“It’s alright. I get it.” Lindsey looked over and offered him a small grin. “He did save your ass after all. Nothing wrong with a little hero-worshipping. ‘Course, I’m feeling put out, not being worshipped myself.”
Spike snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll build you a bloody altar.”
“Hey! I did save you from that shithead Larry, you know. You oughta buy me a beer.” Lindsey stuck out his chin and flexed his muscles. “Being your hero and all.”
Spike gave him a tired smile, then knitted his brow in thought. He didn’t really want to go home and grieve over his beloved Dru, all alone. And he sure as hell didn’t want to see or even talk to Liam. “Ok, I’ll buy you a beer. Where you wanna go?”
“What, now?” Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “Thought you had a headache.”
“Nothing a pint and a few shots won’t clear. You’re off tomorrow too, right? Got any plans?”
“No, not really. Unless you count a six-pack and tonight’s game. You want in?”
He’d been thinking more of going to a bar but what the hell. “Not intruding on anything, am I?”
Lindsey shook his head. “Just me and my couch.”
“Sounds brilliant. I’ll pay for the pizza.”
“You’re on.” Lindsey flashed Spike a smile and he felt some of the darkness bleed away. “You wanna stop at your place or…?”
“Not really. Just want to get pissed, mate.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Lindsey took a right turn at the next lights and Spike leaned back again, closing his eyes.
Continued here.