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How to Treat Your
Lover
by Tami
Chapter 21-A
Chapter 21-A: Step 2 – Understanding (Part
4)
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
The last couple of weeks were a nightmare to Angel. He still dreamt of Darla. She kept pulling him into memories of a shared past. For instance, there was the time they murdered an old woman after having sex on her living room floor and then the time she brought him the gypsy girl that was the reason for his curse.
That didn’t bother him as much as the fact that he had almost lost Spike to a telekinetic woman that Wolfram & Hart had thought to use an assassin until she mastered her abilities and left. But, not before turning the top floor of his hotel into a war zone with her powers.
In a state of fear, she made things fly around with her mind, Angel had dodged the items, but Cordelia had become injured with a nail in her arm and the girl had staked Spike’s left shoulder to the wall. Through the connection with his boy, he felt the pain in his left shoulder, dangerously close to his heart for Angel’s liking. He roared through the pain with Spike and then became angry with the girl’s outburst of violence, telling her to get over it.
A few days rest and Sire’s blood helped Spike heal considerably. At the moment, Angel was rejoicing in Spike’s newfound health. Books clattered to the floor when he slammed his childe against the side of a bookcase and attacked his mouth. The blonde’s legs were wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck as he ground against Spike’s pelvic bone.
Spike pushed against the wall beside him and they stumbled against a desk, moving it across the floor by three feet. Angel nearly lost his balance, but saved himself by grabbing at a sturdy bookcase that was beside the desk and slamming Spike against the wall next to it.
Spike pushed against the wall again, causing Angel to stumble backwards over the arm of the couch and landing on his back. Spike sat up and ground his aching cock against his Sire’s crotch. The minute Spike sat up; Angel went to work on getting his childe’s jeans off.
In his haste, Angel yanked at the fly and growled, “Why the hell do you have to wear tight fucking jeans all the time?”
“’Cause they make me irresistible,” Spike smirked. His waist jerked around as Angel tried to get the material off his hips.
“Fuck, get those off, Spike!”
Spike lay over Angel and kissed him. Angel took the opportunity to turn them on their sides with Spike’s back against the cushions as he worked the offensive clothing off his boy. Once they were removed, Angel sat up and maneuvered Spike over the back of the couch.
“Can’t wait,” Angel groaned as he released his erection and thrust into Spike’s dry passage, making the blonde cry out. He leaned over his childe’s back, hugging his body to his chest. “Sorry,” Angel whispered. “I could have lost you when that girl --”
“Shh, Angel, I’m still here. It’s going to take a lot more than that demented version of Carrie to dust me,” Spike reassured him.
Angel rested his forehead against Spike’s shoulder as he started to rock his hips slowly; groaning each time his childe’s body took him in. The skin on Spike’s neck was reddened from not being allowed enough time to heal between bites. The elder vampire’s teeth had worried the skin in the last week. Not to drink, just as a reassurance that Spike was still alive. The blonde’s body rocked with his Sire’s movements, following Angel’s pace until they both released: Angel inside him; Spike against the couch and his Sire’s fingers.
“God, Spike. Another inch or two and you would have dusted. Aren’t you even worried that your life was in peril?” Angel asked.
“Why should I be when you have enough anxiety over it for both of us?” Spike replied.
“I’m serious. Maybe I was wrong. The claims that tie you to me, I was wrong in completing them. I was possessive and selfish. I shouldn’t have done it. It’s a weakness for you,” Angel said sadly as he drew away from Spike, extricating himself from the blonde vampire and sitting back against the cushions.
“Angel, I can take care of myself. The claims have no bearing on my own physical strength and intuition. What’s-her-name was just another thing to deal with, that’s all. Besides, I thought you didn’t regret the claims?” Spike raised a scarred brow.
“I don’t regret what I did. I just think I was a bit hasty in doing it. I should have thought what it would do to you,” Angel replied.
“It hasn’t done anything dangerous to me. You are a right ponce, you know that? Would you stop worrying so much? You’ve been like this for a week. Surely, you’re not going to be like this every time I get injured. I’m here and alive, end of discussion,” Spike said. He looked at Angel’s creased brow and slapped him on the back of the head. “Bloody hell, quit brooding over it.”
“Ow!” Angel ducked his head away from Spike and rubbed the pain away. He glared at the blonde menace. Yes, he went from being referred to as a favored childe to a menace in seconds flat. Angel reached out, grabbed Spike around the waist and rolled him onto the floor. When he got up to tackle him, the blond grabbed his ankle, making him trip and fall over the smaller body. Angel kicked away, picked Spike up and threw him over his hip. He rolled over on top of him and pinned the younger vampire’s wrists to the floor with his hands.
“You should know better than to try and best me in a fight, boy. I’m the one that taught you the moves,” Angel growled.
Spike smirked and then twisted under his Sire, rolling the older vampire over his head and moved to his hands and knees. “I picked up a few things over the years.”
“Ahem,” said a voice at the door.
Angel and Spike looked over to see Cordelia in the doorway tapping her high heels. “Would you two stop horsing around like children, the plaster on the ceiling in the lobby is raining down on our heads.”
“Cordy, we’re two floors above you!” Angel commented.
“Well, you get the picture of how this is an old hotel and it won’t pay for itself, now get downstairs and go to work!”
Spike sat back on his heels and glanced at the windows. “It’s still sunny outside! Do you want us to smolder and dust?”
“Well, you have to find some way to earn your keep,” Cordelia answered.
“Hey! I earn my keep! Who rescued you from that vampire last month? And, the TV repairman who wanted more than his bill paid? If it wasn’t for me being there and menacing, you’d be paying for that bill on your back!” Spike exclaimed.
Angel’s eyes widened at that. They never told him the complete story of that incident. Cordelia clenched her fists at her sides and made a sound of frustration. “You are the crudest vampire I have ever met!”
“No one said the truth was pretty, princess,” Spike smirked.
“Uh, Cordy, we’ll be out in a little while,” Angel cut in on the conversation.
Cordelia tossed her hair and flounced out the door, shutting it behind her.
“Cordy nearly had to prostitute herself to pay for TV repair?” Angel asked with a furrowed brow.
“Bloody hell, don’t brood over it. It’s taken care of. Though, I would advise that you start charging more for your services,” Spike said as he stood up and went in search of clothes.
Angel rolled to his feet and followed his childe into the bedroom. “Spike, I don’t think I can up the price on saving lives.”
Spike turned to him as he shook out a black t-shirt and put it on. “So, then you’ll find a new place to live that’s next-to-nothing cheap and Cordelia and Wesley will live as paupers. Angel, you have more money than God. Yes, it was taken from victims, but it’s just sitting there in a bank. You’re not missing it, so what’s the harm in giving some to your friends. The people it belonged to are long dead as are their families.”
“It’s blood money, Spike! I can’t use that!” Angel stressed.
“So, do some good with it. I’m not saying hand over your whole fortune, ’cause I would never let you squander my inheritance that way. But, give Cordy, Wes and Gunn a raise,” Spike said as he tucked his shirt into his pants and put his boots.
“Hey, I have an idea! Since you aren’t so broken up about your own stash, why don’t you pay them?” Angel asked.
“They aren’t my employees,” Spike replied as he shrugged on a buttoned shirt and left it open. He kissed Angel and walked toward the door. “Get dressed and come downstairs.”
Angel stared at the closed door after Spike left. Why was he so bent over money anyway? It was Angelus’ ill-gotten wealth. He hadn’t touched the money since he got his soul. Even when he was evil in Sunnydale, he didn’t touch it. Angelus was pre-occupied with ending the world at the time and didn’t care to spend it.
Just the thought of the money sitting there, probably collecting a million dollars in interest by now, made his heart heavy. It was mostly jewels and currency he had taken from his victims.
Spike was the second person to tell him to do something good with it. How can paying for Cordelia’s clothes shopping and Spike’s spendthrift sense be good? His childe had his own stash somewhere, but if anyone looked at Spike, they’d think he shopped at a secondhand store or a flea market. Where did he get off telling his Sire how to use the money when he barely touched his own?
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Lobby
Wesley was behind the reception desk with a big, musty book in front of him, Cordelia looked through some papers and Spike was just coming out of the kitchen with a mug of blood when Angel decided to come downstairs and join them, flopping down on the sofa.
He looked around tiredly. He couldn’t necessarily blame Spike for his condition, since he was the one that initiated the sex in the last week. But, the thought that Spike was that close to dying, Angel could not keep from touching the blonde vampire. He felt driven to constantly grab Spike, caress him, fuck him; bury fangs and cock deep into his body. At least then he knew where his childe was.
“We made you some tea,” Wesley’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“Great,” Angel said neutrally.
“It’s on the table right there in front of you,” Cordelia offered helpfully.
Angel gave a long-suffering sigh. “The table seems far.”
“Ahh, you must be all worn out from wrestling with Spike the last three days,” Cordelia mused.
“It was a lot more than wrestling, princess,” Spike grinned.
“I prefer to think of it as wrestling because any other idea makes me shudder in revulsion,” Cordelia said with an exaggerated shudder. She looked inquisitive at Wesley. “It’s like living with the world’s oldest teenager. He can’t be having a growth spurt at 248, could he?”
Spike chuckled at that. When Angel corrected her, saying, “247,” Spike started an imitation of a hyena.
“I wouldn’t be laughing bleached boy, you’re 130!” Cordelia snapped.
“Hey! I’m only 127 I’ll have you know,” Spike said indignantly. “How old are you now anyway, Cordy, twenty-five?”
“Ohhhh! Angel! Spike’s being mean!” Cordelia whined. “I’m 20 thank you!”
“So, throw your high heels at him, it worked so well the last time,” Angel commented dryly.
Cordelia pointedly ignored the smirking vampire and turned to Wesley. “According to my calculations, if we are frugal and garner some paying clientele soon, we’re financially sound through last Wednesday.”
“What?” Wesley’s brow furrowed and he looked down at Cordelia’s notes. “Where’s it all going?”
“Well, there are the fix costs, the mortgage on the giant hotel, my salary. Then, there’s lots of other . . .” Cordelia rattled on.
“What about my salary? That’s fixed, too!” Wesley said grumpily as he twirled the notebook around to see for himself.
“Hey, how come I don’t get paid?” Spike asked.
“You don’t work!” Cordelia blurted out.
Spike’s brows furrowed in anger. “I’ll have you know I’ve been doing a lot! I have to help with the fighting here and then go back to Sunnyhell and play baby-sitter to a Slayer!”
“And, for that you get laid not paid!” Cordelia told him.
“Angel!” Spike whined.
“Whatever you do, don’t throw your lighter, I’m not searching for it again,” Angel said tiredly.
Cordelia turned to Wesley and suggested, “What if, every time you identified a demon in one of your big old books, we gave you ten bucks . . . or a chicken pot pie?”
“Oh wait, I have another idea,” Wesley said sarcastically. “Get a vision!”
“It’s not like you just hit me in the head and wham it happens,” Cordelia said flippantly.
Wesley picked up his book. “What if we test that theory with one of my big old books?”
Angel lay back on the couch. “Children, quit bickering. Something will turn up, something always does.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Spike said and reached over to tug on a lock of hair. Suddenly, Cordelia was hit was a vision. “See? That worked!”
“Spike!” Angel jumped off the couch and ran over just in time to catch her before she fell.
Spike looked bemused at a writhing Cordelia. “I didn’t pull that hard.”
Cordelia’s body convulsed when a blurry scene of a group of robed men fighting with fists and weapons and a green, slimy monster seemingly growing out of a wall hit her. When the vision ended, Cordelia wobbled on her feet. Angel released her when he was sure she wouldn’t fall over. After she described it, Wesley and Spike started looking through the books laid out on the desk, while she started to pace.
Angel hovered near her, concerned. “Are you all right? You’re sure you don’t need to sit down?”
Cordelia rubbed her forehead and replied, “If I sit I’ll throw up in my head.”
Wesley found a picture of what she might have scene and showed it to her. “Did it look like this?”
“No, it was more mushy and more moldy. It was growing right out of the wall!” Cordelia stressed.
Angel shrugged when he saw that his help was no long required. He sat on the arm of the couch. “Maybe I’ll just . . .”
The small group ignored him. “Mush-monster’s not going anywhere,” she told Wesley. “It’s the place we’ve got to find. Its disciples are human, they’re killing each other. I think the fight is over how to worship it.”
As Spike turned and pulled out a map of Los Angeles, Angel commented, “This is why, personally, I rarely go to church.” They still ignored him. He shrugged and muttered to himself, “I thought it was funny.”
“So did I,” Darla purred.
Angel blinked and suddenly Darla was sitting on his lap, nuzzling and kissing him. Wesley, Cordelia and Spike were immersed in research as if she wasn’t there.
“God, I miss you,” Darla moaned in his ear.
Angel snapped out of his daze just as Wesley asked, “Well, what did the place look like?” He jumped with a shout that made the trio look up at him strangely. Darla was nowhere to be found. “Ah. Didn’t doze off, here I am . . . where were we?” Angel asked to ease the embarrassment that he fell asleep.
“Trying to ascertain the location in Cordelia’s vision,” Wesley answered irritably.
Angel stood and paced the floor much as Cordelia had before. “Ascertaining, here we go.”
Spike watched Angel with a furrowed brow. His Sire had been acting peculiar in the last month or so. He hadn’t felt the pressing need to slip into Angel’s mind because he was starting to trust his feelings around the older vampire again. It felt nice not having to worry if this was just a passing phase.
He’d been in L.A. for nearly six months now and he felt comfortable. The hotel and the small group were like a second home to him. Things seemed to be working out between him and Angel lately. But, Angel’s behavior of late had crossed Spike’s mind more than he’d like to acknowledge. He tried to shrug the worry off. He wanted to believe this newfound relationship wasn’t a ruse.
“You’re so weird lately,” Cordelia commented. She turned back to Wesley. “It felt sacred – in a twisted, demonic kind of way. It’s underground, like in a tank or something . . . full of pillars.”
“Like a water tank?” Angel asked as he went behind the desk.
“Could be,” she replied.
Angel’s lips quirked up as he leaned against the desk. “Saint Bridget’s in Fremont. A convent, built on native burial grounds. The land’s cursed; they had eight murders in two years before the whole place burned to the ground. Which was nothing compared to what happened at Our Lady of Lochenbee . . .” he started to say on a tirade.
All three of them gave him a strange look.
“I have a thing for convents,” he sheepishly explained. “Anyway, the state bought Saint Bridget’s and dug a water tank there.” Spike followed him to the weapons cabinet and Angel handed him a machete. “We’re going to need some muscle. Wes, call Gunn, he’s on the payroll now.”
“Right,” Wesley said. He reached for the phone, but before he picked it up he added, “But, not in a fixed way like me. He’s more an outside contactor. Do you think we can really afford . . .”
“Wesley,” Angel growled.
The former watcher immediately picked up the phone; “Calling Gunn.”
While the others were getting ready, Spike took the opportunity to talk to Angel.
“Are you okay?” Spike asked concerned.
“I’m fine,” Angel replied distractedly as he got a few more weapons.
“I know you Angel. Something’s bothering you, has been for the last month. What’s going on?”
Angel stood up from the chest at the bottom of the cabinet. “I’m fine, Spike, stop worrying. Weren’t you the one that said I brooded too much?”
Spike shut the door to the cabinet louder than he intended, causing an echo in the cavernous hotel. Cordelia and Wesley glanced over at them, but didn’t say anything. Spike watched them until they went back to their task and then glared at Angel.
“Something’s going on with you,” he hissed. “I haven’t figured it out yet. But, if you’re unhappy over something, just get it out already.”
“Nothing’s wrong with me!” Angel hissed back furiously and then walked around Spike to leave the hotel.
Spike turned and watched his Sire stalk out of the hotel. He grabbed his jacket and weapons, then followed Cordelia and Wesley. Something was wrong with Angel. He couldn’t pinpoint it yet and with Angel’s mood now, if he did try to slip into his Sire’s mind, he would get booted right back out.
**************************
Angel, Spike, Gunn, Cordelia and Wesley ran down a long stairway into a huge chamber full of tall pillars. At the bottom of the stairs, they stopped when they saw the people fighting in front of the slimy thing from Cordelia’s vision, spanning the area between two pillars.
Gunn took in the sight and commented, “You are not paying me enough for this. My Uncle Theo said never buy a dull plow and never get in the middle of a religious war.”
Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “Do you really have an Uncle Theo?”
“No, but it’s still good advice,” Gunn replied.
Angel inclined his head toward Wesley. “So, what do you think a thrall demon?”
“Yeah,” Wesley said as he watched the infighting.
“So, we kill the Big Ugly, it un-thralls the groupies and they stop killing each other,” Angel observed.
“That’s my general theory. Thrall demons can be tricky,” Wesley said.
“Well, at least they’re killing each other and not . . .” Cordelia started to say.
The slimy demon spotted and shouted a warning, “Intruders!” Both groups stopped fighting each other when they spotted Angel and his team.
“. . . Us,” Cordelia gulped nervously.
The worshippers charged Angel’s team, screaming. One of them jumped at Spike, taking the blonde vampire to the ground. Another one knocked Angel down from behind. He rolled back up and started punching the guy with a series of furious blows, oblivious to everything else.
Spike was fighting two zealots now that the first one that jumped him had a buddy. The rest of the gang each had adversaries to deal with. The fight was overwhelming the humans, every time they fought off one, another replaced him.
Gunn glanced over his shoulder and called out, “Angel, I’ll try to get Fat Head, watch my back.” When Angel didn’t acknowledge him, he knocked his current foe down and looked to see the dark vampire still beating up the first guy that attacked him. Gunn sighed. “Or just keep beating on that big guy.”
Cordelia ran up with her ax raised to attack the demon, but was hauled back by one of the disciples. Wesley hit the guy over the head, freeing her. Gunn made his way through the fight and sank his homemade ax into the demon’s head. The fighting stopped – except for Angel who was still beating on the guy who attacked him.
Spike went over to his Sire and tugged on his shoulder. “Angel, it’s over.” When the dark vampire didn’t follow through, Spike hauled him up. “Stop!” Angel looked down at his victim as he wiped a hand across his forehead, as if he were sweating. Spike looked at him suspiciously. Without a word, his Sire walked away.
The now peaceful disciples followed the small group out of the chamber. Gunn called out from behind Angel, “So, this whole teamwork deal, that’s a thing of the past now?”
“The job got done,” Angel said tiredly. He tossed his keys to Spike. “Take the car, I need to . . .” he trailed off as he walked off, leaving his team behind.
“He’s just – he hasn’t been sleeping well lately,” Wesley excused.
“Between that and shagging Spike on an hourly basis, he’s off his game,” Cordelia added.
“Since when is it a game?” Gunn asked and walked ahead of them.
“Spike, what the hell is going on with him?” Cordelia asked.
“Why are you asking me?” Spike snapped.
“Well, you’re sleeping with him. You’re connected to him,” Cordelia said.
“Just because I’m here to make sure he doesn’t brood constantly, doesn’t mean I’m his bloody keeper,” Spike said angrily and followed Gunn.
**************************
Los Angeles, Promenade
Angel walked down the promenade, past venders and entertainers: a juggler, clowns making balloon animals, street merchants, musicians and other pedestrians. He ignored them all. He was thinking about his daydream of Darla. Why had he been dreaming of her lately? She was a constant topic for the last couple of months. Angelus said it wasn’t him who had conjured the images up, so why had Angel?
Then, there was Spike. He still hadn’t mentioned the dreams to his childe, his mate. He was keeping the visions of Darla a secret from the one person who was connected to him and had a right to know his deepest, darkest thoughts and desires. He hadn’t felt Spike try to penetrate his mind at all since they moved to the hotel. The blonde vampire had kept a respectful distance and not unduly intruded. So, why hadn’t he told Spike about the dreams? The only answer, Angel could come up with was his knowledge of how Spike and Darla felt about each other in the past.
Angel glanced up to see a blonde woman in a striking red dress. Flashes of his most resent dream ran through his mind like a movie projector. He stopped cold when he recognized her as Darla. Why is she here? I thought she was dead. I clearly remember staking her a few years back. God, she’s still beautiful. No! Bad thought! I have Spike. I’m mated to Spike. Darla means nothing. Angel watched her from across the walkway as flashes of the dreams from his past with her went through his mind.
When he shook his head to clear it, Darla had already walked between two clowns and a guy dressed in a giant hot dog costume. Angel tried to catch up to her, but the crowd of people blocked his view of her for a moment. After they passed, Darla was nowhere to be seen, no matter how hard Angel searched for her in the throng.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Spike had conveniently disappeared the second the trio got back to the hotel. Currently, a new client, Harold Jeakins sat on the couch across from Cordelia and Wesley, nervously fiddling with one of Angel’s business cards.
“I really need some help. They say he handles things – you know unusual things. I’d like to see him right away.”
Wesley and Cordelia didn’t know where Angel had gone off to after they left the disciples. Cordelia put on a false smile and lied, “He wants to see you, too – just as soon as he returns from an important case. Why don’t I take a preliminary report and give you a list of convenient payment plans.”
She eyed Wesley and jerked her head toward the client. It took a moment for the former watcher to catch on, and then he went to her desk, grabbed the sheet and handed it to Jeakins.
Accepting the paper, Harold went on to explain, “Well, it’s my wife, Claire, she’s really a lovely . . .”
When the man got choked up, Wesley prodded, “Go on, it’s all right.”
Harold sniffed. “She gets abducted by aliens, on a regular basis.”
“Aliens?” Wesley asked surprised.
“From outer space?” Cordelia clarified just as dumbfounded.
Harold nodded. “It’s more common than people realize. One minute, she’s there and the next . . . She always comes back in a day or so.”
Wesley cleared his throat. “What is it you’d like us to do, Mr. Jeakins?”
Harold inhaled a shuddering breath. “I-I trust Claire. But, I found this receipt from the Franklin Hotel,” he said, handing Cordelia a small slip of paper, “The weekend before last when she was supposed to be in – the Trifid Nebula!”
Cordelia took the receipt and looked skeptically at Wesley. This man couldn’t be so dense as to believe his wife was abducted by aliens. She was clearly cheating on the poor man and while he still very much loved his wife, he believed anything she told him. At least, that was Cordelia’s way of thinking.
She gave him a false smile and hoped the man took it as sincere. “I’m sure we can get to the bottom of this.”
Behind them, Angel entered the hotel from the basement. He looked ragged as if he’d been walking around all night. Without looking up, he went toward his office. He had to find out why Darla would be back. Then, there was Spike. He had to find a way to tell Spike. He cringed when he thought of how his boy might react to the news. Somehow, telling him that his formerly-dusted grandsire was now among the living and haunting his dreams didn’t seem like the best idea right now. He had to think of something though.
“I mean if it’s not aliens . . .” Harold was saying when he spotted Angel. “Is that . . .?”
Wesley nodded and Cordelia perked up. “Mr. Jeakins, say hello to your new best friend.”
Harold stood up to greet the vampire. “Do you think my wife’s cheating on me?”
Angel kept walking toward his office. “Probably. Where’s Spike?”
“Upstairs I think,” Wesley answered Angel’s retreating form.
“Oh, he-he really likes you, he’s jumping right in,” Cordelia chirped.
“He’s taking the . . .?” Harold asked confused and looked at the duo skeptically. “He didn’t seem that . . .”
As Cordelia followed Angel, Wesley grabbed Harold’s arm and spun him toward the door, walking with him. “Oh, he’s eccentric,” Wesley explained. “All the great ones are. Sherlock Holmes, Phillip Marlowe . . .”
“But, those are fictional characters,” Harold commented.
Wesley patted the man on the back. “Right you are; which gives Angel a leg up when you think about it.”
Spike came downstairs just as Wesley shut the door. He’d spent most of his time upstairs overcoming his anger at Angel’s behavior earlier by breaking a few things and then cleaning up after his outburst. Both men went to Cordelia’s workstation as she sat down to enter Harold’s information into the computer.
“That was a terrific way to treat our customers,” she called out to Angel. “Especially, since we have so many of them.”
Angel moved up behind her. He scented the air around her and his smoldering eyes met Spike’s. He was relieved to see that his childe was physically fine. Spike licked his lips when he saw the look in his Sire’s eyes. Wesley cleared his throat as a distraction from the sexual and emotional tension that erupted when the vampires were in such close proximity to each other.
“See his file?” Cordelia pointed out, oblivious to the exchange. Angel leaned closer as if to get a better look at the screen and started scenting her hair. She smelled like lilacs and lavender. He glanced up at Spike to see his childe’s curious gaze.
“He has Visa, MasterCard and a problem. He’s our target audience! But, if you want to be rude, I guess it’s your shop.” When he didn’t acknowledge her she inquired, “Angel?” He started to touch her hair and bury his nose in it. “What are you . . .? What . . .? Personal bubble, personal bubble!” She jumped out of her chair and ran behind Spike as if he would save her.
Spike glanced back at her and chuckled softly. He never thought he’d see the day when Cordelia Chase would want his protection. He smirked at Angel. “Stand back you monster. I’ll protect the lady with my dying breath!”
“You have no breath,” Angel commented dryly.
Rolling up his sleeves, Wesley stepped in and said, “I need to speak to you, man to man. Cordelia, you may not want to be here for this.” After all the bravado waned, Wesley asked meekly, “Was it something I did?”
Cordelia pointed at Angel from behind Spike. “He was feeling my hair.”
“What?” Wesley asked surprised.
Spike turned and put his arm around her shoulders, twirling a lock around his fingers. “Well, it is quite soft and silky, princess. I wonder what it’s like to tug on it during – Ow!” Before he could finish his statement, Cordelia jammed her heel into his instep.
“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to,” Angel stammered. “I-I’ve been so out of it – lately, because of her. I saw her – here in town last night.”
“Her who?” Spike asked. He had noted Angel’s strange moods of late. But, he hadn’t seen any particular woman catch his interest lately. However, he had notice a darker side of his Sire come out during sex, but he had thought that was due to Angelus.
Cordelia shook her head adamantly. “Oh, no, not that again. Look, I like Buffy as much as the next . . .”
“Since when have you ever – oof!” Spike was asking when she elbowed him in the ribs.
“Not Buffy, Darla,” Angel admitted.
“Darla, the vampire? Your Sire?” Wesley asked with a raised brow.
Angel paced the room, avoiding Spike’s watchful gaze. He didn’t want to see the hurt and disappointment in his childe’s eyes after what he was about to confess to Spike, to all of them. He wasn’t completely unaware of his own mood swings. Dreaming of Darla had confused him, turned him inside-out: all the shared memories, the teasing, and then turning his arousal from it on Spike. As much as the blonde vampire liked to play dumb, his childe, William, was smart. He would see past any contrived excuse for his recent behavior. God, this was hard.
Taking a breath, Angel explained as he paced. “I’ve been dreaming about her like crazy. The dreams have been so . . . I thought I was losing my,” he chuckled hysterically, “my mind. But, she’s back, she’s alive.”
Wesley furrowed his brow trying to understand Angel’s rambling. “What you’re saying is impossible. You staked her to dust three and a half years ago.”
“I know that,” Angel growled. “I also know it was her!”
Wesley shook his head. His boss must be hallucinating. “Vampires don’t come back from the dead.”
“I did and I saw her! I’m not crazy!” Angel said obstinately.
“Where?” Wesley asked.
“Right between the clowns and the big, talking hot dog,” Angel replied. They looked at him strangely. “Walking on the promenade,” he clarified.
“You said yourself you’ve been having dreams. Maybe it’s guilt over killing your Sire . . .” Wesley surmised.
“Right, guilt. Who loves guilt like you love guilt?” Cordelia agreed. “You know what you need? You need to go back to work. We jut got an exciting new case: could be aliens, could be adultery. It’s a corker!”
Angel ignored them. “Maybe I’m dreaming about her because she’s here . . .”
“And, maybe you think she’s here because you’re dreaming about her,” Wesley countered.
“Maybe your dreams have bled into your life when you’re awake?” Spike said. “That’s why you’ve been fucking me nonstop for the past month. You’ve been getting it in your dreams from the Queen Bitch and when you snap out of it, I’m there to fill in for her.”
“Huh?” Angel was confused.
“That’s why you’ve kept me around, right?” Spike asked angrily. “You didn’t want me here because you needed me. You wanted me here so I can fill a gap. You’re dreaming of fucking Darla and then fucking me when you’re awake ’cause she’s not here.” Spike walked up to his Sire until they stood toe to toe. “You know, when you started the claims and completed them, I thought . . . maybe . . . after a century, it would be different. That you had changed. Isn’t that what you told me when we met up again, that you’d changed? Well, newsflash, Angel! Under all that soul, you’re still a self-centered, holier-than-thou, drunken, Irish bastard. It’s always about your needs and your pleasures, fuck the other guy.”
“Why didn’t you use the link between us to find out about Darla?” Angel challenged.
“’Cause, I made the foolish mistake of trusting you and I didn’t think I needed to pry, bloody pillock!” Spike replied, getting angrier. “I never was good enough for you in the old days and I’m sure as hell not good enough you now, am I? All these months I was with you ’cause I thought the claims meant something to you, that you needed me. Boy, was I deluding myself, poncy William just following his Master around, right?” Spike glanced at Cordelia and Wesley and then back at Angel. “Now, we all know that I’m only good enough when you’re awake to take the edge off your fucking dreams of Darla!”
Spike turned away in anger and stomped over to the staircase. When he got to the top of the small landing, he turned and glared at his Sire. “You know, I can understand dreaming about Buffy; hell, even Dru . . . but, Darla?”
As Spike stormed up the stairs, Angel looked dazedly at the empty space. What the hell just happened? He thought he was prepared for Spike’s anger. He was even prepared for a physical fight. But, his childe had merely said his piece and walked off in anger. He looked at his friends’ equally shocked faces and knew he had to talk to Spike before the blonde vampire did anything.
“Excuse me,” Angel said curtly and ran up the stairs, Cordelia and Wesley staring behind him.
Angel made it to the third floor just in time to see Spike slam the door to their room. Our room! Meaning it belongs to both of us. Angel tried to open the door but found it locked. He gripped the doorjamb and rested his forehead against the panel, calling through the door. “Spike, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you about the dreams.” When he received no answer he tried again. “Come on, Spike, what are you doing?”
“’m leaving. I know when I’m not wanted. I’m not a complete idiot!” Spike answered.
“What? Where are you going?” Angel asked with a hint of pleading in his voice.
“Anywhere but here,” Spike replied through the door. “I know I’m love’s bitch, but that doesn’t mean I’m gullible enough to be railroaded by Darla . . . again!”
“Spike! We’re mated, you can’t leave!” Angel yelled through the door.
A moment later, the panel gave out under Angel’s forehead and he nearly fell into the room when Spike wrested the door open. The dark vampire blinked and stared into the beautiful, crystal blue eyes that were so full of anger and pain that it made his heart constrict in his chest. He dared to look down and saw Spike holding his duffel bag.
Spike had heard Angel’s words about being mated and got even angrier. Like that meant anything to the
soddin' bastard. As far as he was concerned in his present state, Spike knew he had been used as a rebound for a wet dream. He was right when he told Angel: demons don’t change. The arrogant bastard would never change. Everything and everyone came before Spike in Angel’s book. He was just here for sexual release. Well, no more!
“Mated? That’s a laugh. Tell you what mate, when you figure out what that means, you let me know!” Spike said furiously. He pushed past Angel and walked down the hall. “Until then, I’ll be in Sunnyhell!”
“Spike, wait!” Angel called after him as he followed him.
When he caught up with his childe, Spike was kissing Cordelia on the cheek and shaking hands – actually shaking hands – with Wesley, telling him to “Give Charlie-boy my best.”
“Spike, you don’t have to leave!” Angel said.
Spike turned sorrowful eyes to his Sire. “You don’t want me. When you figure out what you do want, you know where to find me.” With that, his childe walked out of the hotel through the basement entrance.
“Oh, God, ohgodohgodohgodohgod, A Ghrá mo Chroí,” Angel said mournfully as he fell to knees in the lobby of his hotel.
Spike was gone. The only trace of him was the lingering scent of smoke and leather. Angel looked around the cavernous room, completely lost. When he heard a car engine rev by the hotel, unnoticed tears slid down his cheeks. He took comfort in the knowledge that he was still tied to his childe. The claims were forever in place. It was his only consolation.
**************************
Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart
Darla’s lips were curled into a smug smile. She had done it again. She couldn’t break the claims, but she managed to drive a wedge between Angel and Spike. Even after a century the two vampires were so easy to rile. She felt Lindsey’s eyes on her. “He’s falling apart,” she commented.
“That’s wonderful,” Lindsey replied enthusiastically. “Unhinging a man with all his strengths and weaknesses takes a lot of work.”
Darla sighed. The mortal still didn’t get it. She may have let them use her to get to Angel, but while she was still had control over Angel’s dreams, she had her own games to play with the shadow of her favored childe. Even if she was successful in sparking Angel’s arousal in his dreams, he still turned to Spike for release. That irked her more than anything. Angel still turned to Spike for his needs.
“I created a lot of those strengths and weaknesses,” she stated flatly. “I think I have a pretty good handle on them.”
Lindsey smirked as he moved closer to her. “We’re counting on that. You’ve given us more information on Angel than we had when he first got here. Nobody knows him,” he dropped a manila envelope on his desk, “better than you do. Especially, the side we’re interested in.”
Darla took a step closer to the lawyer. “So, what is the plan exactly? I tease him to death?”
“We don’t want him dead. We want him dark. And, there’s no better way to a man’s dark side than to awaken his . . . nastier urges, is there?” Lindsey asked.
Darla ignored him and looked down at his artificial hand. “He did that to you. What’s it feel like?”
“It doesn’t feel like anything,” Lindsey replied with no emotion.
Darla moved to touch it. “Can I?” Without waiting for an answer, she reached out and stroked the prosthetic appendage. “It’s very smooth,” she commented as she looked at him. “You don’t feel anything?”
Lindsey swallowed the lump in his throat. “Not in my hand.” She smiled and took a step back. “How is it, seeing him again?” he asked.
Darla flustered for a second and turned away from the lawyer. “It’s strange.”
“He betrayed you,” Lindsey pointed out.
Darla chuckled coldly and played with the scales on a statue of Lady Justice. “Everyone betrays you. That’s not what eats at you in the long winter’s night.”
“Yeah? What does?” Lindsey asked as he watched her.
She looked at the statue intently, refusing to let the mortal see her distress over Angel. In truth, she knew Angel was lost to her when she felt his tie to Spike, but that hadn’t stopped her from wreaking havoc on their new relationship. “Missed opportunities. He got a soul and it sickened me. All that power was wasted on a whiny, mopey do-gooder.” She pulled her hand away from the statue angrily, making the scales sway. “God, I could eat his eyeballs.”
“Our plans for Angel are a little more long term than that. But, if you can’t help yourself, then, by all means, be my guest,” Lindsey said sardonically.
Darla whipped around and smirked at him. “You’re fun for a human.”
Lindsey took the compliment with pride and arrogance. “I have a particular interest in this guy – a lot of people do.”
**************************
Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion
Spike walked into the house and slammed the door. As he carried his duffel bag to the bedroom he fumed over what happened in L.A. The further he drove from his Sire the more painful it was. They hadn’t been separated in nearly six months and it was agonizing.
He tried to bury the pain under anger as he unpacked his bag, but Angel’s wounded expression kept flickering through his mind. Why should the ponce be wounded, he was the one having the dreams of Darla. Spike scoffed at the idea that it was Darla of all people.
Throwing the empty back in the closet, he went into the kitchen and looked for something to eat. Opening the empty fridge, he made a note to stock up on blood later and headed back to the bedroom where he stripped down to nothing and crawled into the empty bed.
He hadn’t slept in an empty bed in months. The loneliness was a shock to the system after having been around people all this time. He missed bickering with Cordelia and trading English anecdotes with Wesley. The former Watcher was wary of him in the beginning, but over the last few months, they’d come to respect one another. He even missed Gunn, though he’d only fought with the young hunter a few times and Gunn had tried to kill him when they first met.
He would never admit it out loud, but he missed Angel terribly. That still didn’t give his Sire a pass on using him to sate his dream-induced lust. But, he hadn’t been away from Angel since he’d been called down to L.A. to help with Cordelia. Recent memories of living with the seer, antagonizing her resident ghost, his punishment at Madam Dorion’s for using Angel’s credit card, visiting Faith, the hotel, haunted him. He tried to shake the thoughts away and prayed for sleep.
**************************
Los Angeles, Franklin Hotel
It had taken Cordelia and Wesley a while to get Angel up off the floor and back to work. A champion’s job waited for no personal crisis. Now, he was just angry, angry at himself for driving Spike away, and at Darla, if she indeed was still alive and not just invading his dreams.
They were working surveillance on Harold Jeakins’ wife in the Franklin Hotel. Cordelia was undercover as a waitress, wearing a skimpy yellow uniform and Wesley was trying to pose as a guest just reading the paper in the lobby as he took pictures of the subject and her liaison.
Cordelia picked up some empty glasses and walked past a blonde woman and a guy wearing a repairman’s uniform. While the couple was caught up in each other, she slid a pile of napkins with a tiny microphone hidden between them across the countertop so it would pick up their conversation that Angel was listening in on from a distance.
As she set the microphone in place, Cordelia overheard the man say, “Are you sure about this, right in the middle of the day?”
Claire giggled and leaned into the man. “Marty, the aliens abduct me when the mood hits and the mood hit pretty hard this morning right about the time Harold left for work.”
“No kidding, yeah?” Marty chuckled.
Angel was hidden behind a planter as he listened to Clair giggle into his earpiece. “Of course if you’re not in the mood . . .”
“No, no,” Marty denied. “I’m in the mood.”
Wesley sat reading the newspaper and lifted a tiny camera to his eye and snapped a picture of the couple.
Marty slid his hand up Claire’s skirt and said, “I’m deep in the mood. I’m going to abduct you right now and conduct my own probe.” Claire giggled at that. The man turned serious. “It’s just I still got a lot of repairs . . .”
Angel glowered at the small tape recorder in his hand.
“Well, I hope nothing important is broken,” Claire teased.
“No, no. It all works,” Marty laughed.
Claire stood up. “So let’s go upstairs.”
Angel shook his head. The woman was definitely cheating on her husband and rather than tell the poor man, she would rather lie and tell him that she was abducted by aliens on a regular basis. Contrary to his own dreams, he hadn’t cheated on Spike since he started the claims. Granted, he wasn’t a saint where faithfulness was involved, but he couldn’t listen to this anymore.
Angel came out from behind the planter and went to intercept the couple. As he passed Wesley, who was still snapping pictures, he pulled the camera out of the watcher’s hand. Then, he trailed the couple.
“Claire, hold on,” Angel called out.
Claire stopped in her tracks, startled when Angel blocked her path. “Do I . . . know you?”
Cordelia and Wesley watched in disbelief as Angel said, “I’ve been listening. I was over there behind some plant with this machine.” He took the earphone out of her ear. “Recording you two while my associates here,” he gestured towards his companions. Cordelia gave them a wave as Wesley retreated behind his newspaper. Angel went on, “Have been tailing you around all day taking pictures. I don’t like doing this. It’s crass. Your husband knows. Go home. Tell him the truth. Work it out or . . . leave. I don’t care. But this . . .?” Angel tossed the camera at the couple and Marty caught it. After a brief look at each other, he and Claire parted ways. Angel went in the other direction as Cordelia and Wesley fell into step with him.
“What was that?” Cordelia asked incredulously. “We had a paying client.”
“Not everything is worth getting paid for,” Angel growled.
“That’s easy to say when you don’t need food to survive,” Cordelia shot back.
Angel angrily slapped his recording equipment against Wesley’s chest, making the watcher grunt. Just then, he spotted Darla getting up from a chair across the lobby of the hotel.
“That’s her,” he growled. He walked faster until he caught up with Darla and blocked her path as she walked out while going through her purse and bumped into him.
“Oh, I’m sorry . . .” she politely apologized.
Angel sized her up with yellow eyes as he growled, “I guess you didn’t take that who dust to dust thing to heart, huh?” He snatched her wallet and flipped it open to search through it. “What are you trying to do . . . pass as human?”
“Excuse me,” Darla said sarcastically as she snatched her wallet back and stuffed it in her purse.
“I know your voice.” Angel’s own voice was deadly calm. He leaned closer and scented her. “I can smell you.”
“Uh oh,” Cordelia said fearfully as she took in the scene.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Darla stammered. “Now, just leave me alone.”
She tried to pass him, but Angel grabbed her shoulders and jerked her back. His fingers were flexing into her shoulders as he tried to reign in his anger. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play, but you’re not going to win.”
“Angel, I really think . . .” Wesley tried to intercede, but the vampire ignored him.
A security guard saw the confrontation and stepped up. “Is everything all right?”
“N-no. This man, he’s trying to,” Darla stumbled over her tongue. “My name is D’Etta Kramer. My husband is outside right now getting our car. I don’t know anyone named Darla.”
“I know it’s you,” Angel growled. “I know you’re not going out into that sun anytime soon.”
The security guard tried to pull Angel away, but the vampire shrugged him off as if he were a fly. Darla’s eyes widened at the show of strength and ran from him, screaming for her husband.
Angel was set to follow her when Wesley grabbed his arm and held him back from the sunlight. He shook off the watcher’s hand. The whole time he was being restrained, he tracked Darla as she ran towards a beam of sunlight shining through the front doors. A well-dressed man caught her in his arms. “Are you okay?”
Darla nodded and looked back towards Angel. He stared back in shock as she was seemingly fine standing in the sun. He didn’t know how the hell that was possible. The last he knew, Darla had been a vampire.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
The car ride home was eventful in the fact that Angel grumbled the whole way. He was resolute in his belief that that was indeed Darla and not the woman she claimed to be. He should know, she had haunted his dreams often enough over the last month or so. She was the reason Spike had left him. She was the reason for his fucking curse. Once he finally dealt with her, he was going to get Spike back, even if he had to tie his boy up, drag him back, shackle him down and force Spike to listen to him.
Angel, Cordelia and Wesley entered the lobby. Well, Angel stomped in purposefully, Wesley walked in haggard, and Cordelia limped due to a broke heel on one of her shoes.
“That was really fun,” Cordelia said sarcastically. “The
humiliation. Running from the hotel security guys, and the nifty
little outfit seemed to tell so many conventioneers, 'Pet me, I’m a whore'.”
Angel ignored Cordelia’s tirade and moved around behind the reception desk to search for the phone book. Grabbing it, he flipped through the pages.
Wesley leaned up against the desk with a satisfied expression. “It wasn’t pleasant but at least, there’s a silver lining.”
Cordelia looked at Wesley as if he’d gone daft. “What silver lining?”
“Well, the woman walked into direct sunlight. Obviously, she’s not a vampire. Obviously, Angel made a mistake,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You think?” Cordelia inquired.
Wesley was complacent when he said, “We’ll just put our heads together and help him come to grips with this thing.” He turned to Angel, who up until now was still ignoring them in favor of finding Darla. “You’re among friends; we’re not going to condemn you.”
“Right,” Cordelia agreed. Then, she turned on Angel with, “You’re crazy, you need professional help!”
“It was Darla,” Angel persisted. “She’s back . . . and she’s human now. But, I know her scent.”
Wesley scoffed at the very notion that someone can know another that way. “Angel, you can’t just . . . sniff a person and know . . .”
Angel cut Wesley off when he leaned closer and scented him. “You had sex last night, with a bleached blonde.”
The former watcher was taken aback. “Good Lord, how’d you . . .?”
Cordelia looked at them funny. “That’s unbelievable. I didn’t think you ever had sex.”
Angel slammed the phone book shut. “She’s not in here.”
“Who, Darla?” Cordelia asked.
“D’Etta Kramer,” Angel corrected, “The person she’s pretending to be.” He turned to Wesley. “Run a title deed search. See if you can find an address for a D’Etta and Stephen Kramer. I’m going to try some other avenues.”
“Okay,” Cordelia answered.
Satisfied, Angel walked away and then turned back. “Wesley, you got any money? I’ll need a few bucks for the cover charge.”
Wesley’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Cover charge? You’re going to . . .”
“Do whatever it takes to get Spike back,” Angel finished. |
