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How to Treat Your
Lover
by Tami
Chapter 25
Chapter 25-A: Step 2 – Understanding (Part
8)
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Room
Angel sat in a wingback armchair. His head fell back against the chair and he sighed. As he closed his eyes, the memory crept into his mind of biting Kate Lockley to save her from the demons that were in on the heist to steal the Shroud of Rahmon. He could still feel the way his fangs slid so easily into her flesh. He could still taste the first explosion of warm, human blood bursting in his mouth and reflexively swallowing the liquid, taking her life into him.
It was all he could do to reel his demon in from drinking her dry, and inadvertently killing her. It was only supposed to incapacitate her for their audience. If any of the other demons on the heist knew she was alive, they’d kill her outright and it would be another death on his burdened conscience. That was something he couldn’t afford unnecessarily.
He sat there in the dark, the room only lit by track lighting in the ceiling. Although Angel reasoned that he had to bite Kate to save her, it didn’t reduce the effect of drinking her – a human – had on him. Human blood coursing through his veins again, so long after Buffy nearly gave her life to save him, left him open and raw. That’s why he sought refuge in his room, alone, in the dark. He had to stay away from Wesley and Cordelia until the bloodlust wore off.
It felt good to sink your teeth in, didn’t it? Angelus asked.
Angel couldn’t deny it.
You had that perfect moment of clarity the moment your teeth pierced her flesh like a knife through warm butter, Angelus taunted. Too bad Spike wasn’t here. We could have tied him to the bed and nailed him there.
Angel groaned at Angelus’ acerbic words and shifted in his chair to relieve the pressure on his groin. Spike, his boy. Angel closed his eyes and tried to feel the younger vampire.
He tugged on the claim, hoping that Spike would answer. There was nothing.
Spike must still be angry with him over . . . what? When Angel left Sunnydale, he knew his childe and mate wasn’t pleased with being abandoned to deal with Darla. It wasn’t as if Angel had a say in it.
He had come back to L.A. But, he came back to find Kate Lockley in his hotel room, searching for clues that lead to Darla’s whereabouts. Her only insurance wasn’t a warrant for the illegal search. It was a wooden cross with a point at the end. As soon as he was rid of her, that heist fell into his lap and now all he could think about was Spike, needing him.
Ah, great love, Angelus smirked.
What are you talking about? Angel asked.
Nearly a year and a half after all the claims are in place and it took you this long to develop an all-consuming, burning desire for the boy, Angelus teased.
What do you know about it? You never loved anyone in your life, not even yourself, Angel sneered.
I don’t have to feel it to see it. Love is sentimental. It gets in the way of what’s real, Angelus said casually.
What’s real? Angel asked curiously.
Life or something like it; disease, famine, war, the next apocalypse, sex that’s stripped to the bare, common necessity and labeled as mating or fucking. It’s a very real part of life. Feelings such as love and hate are just rose-tinting on the overall package. You don’t need love to have sex or start a war, just the guts to pull it off. Oops, pardon the pun there, I mean execute, uh, perform. Hell, never mind, you get what I’m saying, Angelus said with a hint of aggravation.
Is this another of your ‘without passion we’d be truly dead’ observations? Because, I have to say that bit of poetry was nothing like you, Angel said, bewildered.
Passion, obsession, it’s all the same thing, Angelus shrugged.
For those to matter, you have to have some feeling of love or hate, Angel countered.
Not the romantic love you’re so fond of getting yourself trapped in, Angelus sneered as if saying the word ‘romance’ was distasteful.
I’m not trapping myself. I’ve been single for 2 years, Angel scoffed.
Uh-huh, and you wouldn’t be professing your love to Buffy if she were to walk through that door? Angelus asked in disbelief. And, let’s not forget the childe we’re mated to. If it wasn’t for me, you’d have already told him you loved him during sex and ruined the tenuous relationship we’ve established.
The way Angelus made it sound, it was he and Spike in the relationship and Angel was the conduit, not the other way around.
I put the claims on Spike, not you. He’s mated to me. You’re just there to observe, and every so often I let you out to play, Angel said irritably.
Angelus chuckled. You two are a right pair. He’s as jealous over you as you are over him.
Angel only growled in response.
**************************
Sunnydale Memorial Hospital
Dr. Kriegel walked down the hall to the waiting room where Buffy, Dawn and their friends were waiting for word on their mother’s operation. Buffy stood up when she saw him.
As he got closer, he pulled down his surgical mask and said, “Okay, your mom’s in recovery.”
“What happened, is she all right?” Buffy asked anxiously.
Dr. Kriegel gave her a tentative nod. “It was possible to visualize the tumor completely, which means that I was able to get all of it. So, barring complications in recovery . . . I think your mother’s going to be fine.” When everyone let out a breath of relief, he continued, “Of course, we’re still going to have to watch your mother carefully, and, uh, have her back in here for some follow-up testing.” Buffy nodded vigorously in agreement. “Overall, I’d consider the procedure a complete success.”
Everyone smiled at the prognosis and hugged each other with the relief. The tension that loomed over them ever since they discovered Joyce’s illness was beginning to wane. Giles and Xander started to hug, but instead, settled for a handshake.
Buffy hugged Riley, but addressed the doctor when she said, “Oh my goodness, doctor, thank you. Thank you so much.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Dr. Kriegel said with a smile.
Buffy let go of Riley and unexpectedly hugged the doctor a little too tight in her gratitude, which caused him to yell out in pain. She gasped and pulled back with a sheepish expression.
“Sorry. Sorry!” Buffy apologized profusely as the doctor put a hand on his aching back and gave her a strange look.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Cordelia and Wesley hovered around the closed door that led to the Hyperion’s basement.
“Don’t you think we should check on him?” she asked. “He’s been in that cellar a long time.”
Wesley agreed. “I keep hearing a ‘chucka-chuka’ sound. What’s he doing down there?”
“How should I know? He barely says ‘good morning’ and ‘get me a glass of blood’ anymore,” Cordelia said, irritated.
“I know. He’s just so distraught about . . .” Wesley started to say.
“Don’t say Darla! I’m sick and tired hearing about Darla. If I hear the name Darla one more time! And, he is not distraught, he is obsessed! And I thought you were going to be a man and talk to him about this!” Cordelia said angrily.
“I was a man! I said . . . things,” Wesley said defensively.
“Like what?” she asked incredulously.
“Like: Did he prefer milk or sugar in his tea.” When she gave him a skeptical look, he told her, “That’s how men talk about things in England! Besides, I wasn’t going to say Darla. I was going to say Spike!"
After they left Angel to brood last night over what happened with the police woman, Kate, they showed up to work to find Angel in a chipper mood and cleaning the lobby. According to the dark vampire, he had already cleaned his room and was bored. Now, said cheerful vampire was down in the basement doing something that made an odd noise echo up the stairwell. Then that noise stopped.
“Shh! Listen, it stopped,” Cordelia announced.
There was a faint sound of footfalls getting louder on the stairs. “He’s coming!” Wesley warned her.
Wesley and Cordelia ran away from the basement door and hurried to find anything that would make them look occupied. She hopped on barstool behind the reception counter and quickly made it seem like she was going over the books. Behind her, Wesley picked up a file and pretended to read it as the door opened. Angel walked into the lobby carrying an armful of . . . clothes?
“Hi, guys,” Angel greeted with a smile. “What’s up?”
Cordelia and Wesley gave him a suspicious look. Their boss had been acting strange all morning and it didn’t seem to be letting up. He was smiling and that was never good. The two co-workers looked at each other, puzzled. What had happened between the time Angel came back to the hotel from that heist and this morning when they came in to work?
“Nothing,” Cordelia said guiltily. Then she saw what he was doing and her jaw dropped. “So, you were . . . doing your laundry?”
Angel folded his clothes as he answered, “Yeah. There is an old washer and dryer in the cellar.” He held a dark, fluffy sweater up to his face and breathed in the fabric softener scent. “Hmm, don’t you just love it when they’re still warm from the dryer?” He shook the sweater out and looked at it with a critical eye. “Wrinkle free, right – after you iron it for about 15 minutes!”
“It’s good to see you taking a domestic tack,” Wesley said in astonishment.
“Yeah, you seem all calm and homey,” Cordelia agreed and then pointedly asked, “Are you on drugs?”
“I know I’ve caused you . . . and Spike . . . a lot of grief about this whole Darla situation, and I apologize.”
Angel sounded sincere in his apology. In his mind, he was more honest about what he did to Spike by putting her ahead of his mate than he did by driving Cordelia and Wesley crazy while dealing with her.
“Darla may never need my help. All I can do is be there for her if, and when, she decides to come around. But, I can’t do it for her and I know that now,” he admitted.
Wesley smiled at Cordelia and gloated, “We had tea.”
“In the mean time, there is nothing I can do but,” he continued as he shook out another sweater, “let go.”
Just then, Gunn burst into the hotel waving a file folder. “I found Darla!”
Angel dropped his clothes as if they burned his skin and walked over to look through the file as Gunn continued, “It wasn’t easy, but you said to keep looking and my wide ranging knowledge of L.A.’s low-rent hotels finally paid off.”
“You lied to us!” Cordelia said accusingly, pointing reprimanding finger at the dark vampire who wasn’t looking at her.
“I did. I know,” Angel confessed as he flipped through some pictures in the file.
“Why?” Wesley asked, hurt.
Angel glanced up. “I figured you’d nag,” he said and went back to the file as Cordelia and Wesley exchanged a defeated look. Angel read the name of the hotel in one picture. “The Royal Viking Motel?”
Gunn nodded. “It’s conveniently located mere steps from scenic skid row. I guess she’s not living off Wolfram and Hart no more.”
“They’ll be looking for her, too,” Angel said anxiously.
“What do you think they’ll do if they find her?” Gunn asked.
Angel shoved the folder back in Gunn’s hands and went to retrieve his coat. “Well, let’s get there first and not find out.”
Angel grabbed his coat and walked towards the door with Gunn following.
Cordelia and Wesley watched the whole scene play out as if they weren’t even there. As Angel was leaving, she called out, “Listen up, Mister! If you expect us to go with you on some wild goose chase, then guess again!” She watched them walk out the door. “We’re not going to enable you in your addiction!”
“Didn’t we learn anything from the tea?” Wesley asked but the only response he received was a banging sound as the door closed.
**************************
Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence
Spike started to label his babysitting duties as ‘civic servitude’. He crept into the Summers’ yard and climbed up into the V-section of the tree that was situated under Buffy’s window. Pulling out a fresh pack of cigarettes, he ripped the cellophane band off, shook a cigarette out and pinched it between his lips. As he lit the end, he noted in the back of his mind that he was smoking an awful lot these days.
He pocketed the lighter, leaned against the bark and blew out a haze of smoke as he watched her bedroom window. Buffy’s window was cracked open, which allowed him to hear her with that tin soldier of hers. Granted, he hadn’t had sex in a month or so, but the moaning sounds coming from her room were so pitiful, it made him cringe.
Spike was nearly asleep listening to the litany of soft moans and light gasps when he felt something brush his mind. He wiped the sleep away from his eyes and took a drag from the nearly burned out cigarette that was hanging loosely from his fingers.
Hey, Angelus. What’s up? Spike asked tiredly.
You sound enthused, baby boy. What are you doing? Angelus chuckled.
Listening to the God-awful porn track coming out of the Slayer’s bedroom, Spike answered.
You’re inside the house?
No, outside her bedroom window, watching out for her like Angel told me to, Spike said, irritated.
Angelus laughed. I don’t think soulboy meant for you to perch yourself on her doorstep.
There’s nothing on TV and ’m bored, Spike grumbled as he dropped the cigarette on the ground under him.
You know, sex would help with that, Angelus smirked.
Yeah, well, you aren’t here and he’s off chasing Darla’s tail, Spike said with a hint of anger.
That shouldn’t stop you from finding a temporary distraction, Angelus commented.
Unlike you, Angelus, I have standards, Spike told him. I don’t fuck everything I come into contact with.
I know you’re partial to the best, baby boy. But, I’m not available at the moment and Angel’s off trying to save the unsalvageable. The best I can give you is a good mind fuck, Angelus said. His tone could have been mistaken for sincerity.
That’s a shame, Spike said in a mocking tone.
So, who’s Angel’s little slayer getting it on with? Angel asked mildly interested.
Captain Cardboard, Spike scoffed.
Huh. I bet the only position he knows is missionary, Angelus said with a shudder of revulsion. What do you say that you forgive Angel his weakness and come down and we’ll take care of your boredom?
Like that’ll happen. Angel doesn’t want me down there.
Come on, Spike. Angel misses you. Hell, I miss you, Angelus pleaded.
He can miss me all he wants. If he wants me down there that bad, he knows where I am. As for you, you don’t miss me. You miss my ass, Spike said annoyed.
Well, there is that, Angelus conceded. We’re tied together, Spike. You can’t ignore the claim’s pull forever. You need us too much, Angelus pointed out.
Hold that thought. Soldier boy just came out of the house. I wonder what he’s up to, Spike wondered.
Spike jumped down from his perch in the tree and landed on his feet lightly. He watched with curiosity as Riley walked out of the house. It seemed that the boy didn’t notice Spike in the vicinity. He closed the door quietly and walked off. Spike let him get several feet ahead and followed Riley by scent.
Spike followed Riley through the demon district for several blocks and watched as he turned down a dark alley. Riley walked up to an old warehouse and trotted up some stairs to a door. Spike hung back and frowned as he watched Riley enter the building.
He went into a vampire whorehouse, Spike said knowing Angelus was still there.
What would he be doing there? Is he dusting them? Is there screaming? Angelus asked.
I told you a while back that he was hitting on vamp trulls. He must really be addicted to come here straight from fucking the slayer, Spike said.
Woo-hoo, the boy has brass balls? Lil’ Buff isn’t gonna like to hear about that, Angelus chuckled.
No one told me I had to help her with her love life, just keep her alive, Spike protested.
Yeah, but think of the enjoyment you’ll get from seeing the look on her face when she discovers what her boyfriend’s been up to, Angelus pointed out.
He’s been at this a month. I’m surprised she hasn’t caught on, Spike commented.
Love is blind? Angelus suggested.
What do you know about love? Spike asked.
Just what I see of it, Angelus replied. Too feel it with a slayer was . . . . He shuddered in disgust.
Fine, I’ll tell her, but it better be worth it, Spike growled and walked back in the direction he came from.
**************************
Los Angeles, Royal Viking Motel
Gunn searched Darla’s room for any clues about what she was up to while Angel stood in the open doorway. He didn’t feel Angelus’ immediate presence inside him and assumed that he had checked in on Spike. Angelus was doing that a lot lately too. He would get bored with trying to help Darla and his voice would disappear for a while. Now was one of those times. Angel missed Spike as well, but he couldn’t just up and leave on a whim as Angelus did on occasion.
“She ain't here, bro,” Gunn announced, pulling Angel out of his thoughts.
“No,” Angel agreed. “But she was, not long ago.” He sniffed at the air. “Her scent’s still fresh. There’s a lot of fear.”
Gunn scoffed and turned back to inspecting the room. “I don’t envy you that particular talent. Not based on what I’m getting with just my standard issue human smeller.”
As Gunn gave the room a cursory glance, Angel decided to do his own investigating and took a tentative step inside, passing through the doorway with no barrier to hold him back.
“Man, not even for free cable, you know what I’m sayin’?” Gunn complained.
“She chose this neighborhood for a reason,” Angel commented.
Hearing Angel’s voice directly behind him, Gunn turned and looked between Angel and the door with a surprised expression. “Bro how’d you . . .?”
Angel looked back at the door and shrugged. “Oh, motels are a public accommodation. She didn’t live here.”
“Yeah?” Gunn raised a brow and returned to his search. “I wouldn’t call it living, either.” He spotted a necklace on her mirrored dresser and stepped closer. “Hey looks like maybe she was expecting company.” He picked up the necklace with a cross on it and looked back at Angel. He held it out for the vampire to see. “In the form of you.”
Angel looked at the necklace for a moment, not particularly phased by it and then glanced at the room. “No blood. Nothing new anyway,” he said dismissively.
“Do you smell that too?” Gunn mocked.
“This room’s seen a lot of it,” Angel commented.
“No doubt. Big step down from her last digs, that's for sure,” Gunn said.
“When you’re desperate, you do what you have to do,” Angel responded.
**************************
Sunnydale, Summers’ Residence
Spike tried the back door and found it unlocked. The slayer wasn’t all that careful if she left her doors open to just anyone. He walked into the kitchen, shutting it quietly. Then he walked down the hallway to the stairs and crept up to the second floor. Buffy’s room was easy enough to find, considering the ‘BUFFY’ sign on her door that she must have made in high school.
That thought made Spike flashback to when he first met her. She was barely 17 and then there was her ill-fated birthday when she was so great in bed that she brought Angelus back crazier than ever. Come to think of it, shouldn’t he, William the Bloody, get seniority points or something for knowing her longer than the cardboard cutout she called a boyfriend?
Angel told him to watch out for her and that’s all he was doing here. Though, helping a human girl out with her love life wasn’t his thing. Chalk it up to boredom and, as Angelus pointed out, wanting to see the look on her face when Spike showed her what Riley had been up to for the last month or so.
Spike carefully opened the door and stepped into the bedroom to find Buffy asleep and alone. When he closed the door, she stirred awake.
“Riley?” Buffy called out drowsily.
Spike stood by the door and leaned against the closet wall.
“It’s me, Buffy,” Spike replied.
That voice woke her up. She bolted upright and snatched the sheet up to cover her breasts. What the hell was Spike doing in her room?
“Every time you show up like this, you risk all of your parts, you know that?” she asked in annoyance.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have a good reason! Angel told me to look after you and that’s what I’m doing. You can’t be a very effective slayer if your boyfriend keeps stepping out on you behind you back, now can you?” Spike said angrily. “I’d just as soon let you die or kill you myself. But, as usual these days, I’m here to help you. Now, get your skinny ass out of that bed. I’ve got something to show you.”
“I’ve got a better idea: Get out!” Buffy ordered.
“No, I’m serious,” Spike insisted.
“I’m naked, get out!” Buffy demanded.
“Do you think I really care what state of undress you’re in? I’ve been around for 127 years and I’ve seen women in every state of undress. Seeing a slayer naked isn’t going to do anything for me. Now, get up and get dressed!” Spike growled.
“Get out or I will drop you out head-first,” Buffy threatened.
“Yeah? Well, if I go out that window, I’m taking you with me whether you have clothes on or not. Captain Cardboard couldn’t have been that good in bed anyway. Get up, I’m going to show you something, even if I have to tie you up and drag you there,” Spike promised.
Buffy sighed in annoyance. “What do you want to show me?”
“Something you need to see.” Spike ground his teeth in frustration. Oh, no, Spike, you can’t kill her. Well, fuck you, Angel. You aren’t here, Spike thought sarcastically. “We need to move if we’re going to make it in time.”
Buffy raised her eyebrows, indicating that she wasn’t going to get dressed in front of him. Spike rolled his eyes and stomped closer to the bed. He snatched her sweatpants and a shirt off the floor. Grabbing the sheet from her body and ignoring her cry of outrage, Spike pulled the shirt over her head, pulling down until her head popped through the neckline. In his aggravated state, he didn’t even notice when his fingers brushed against her bare nipples.
“Spike! I can dress myself!” Buffy protested, glaring at the vampire.
“You’re taking too long arguing with me, you stupid bint,” Spike replied as he grabbed the sweatpants.
Yanking the covers all the way down to the end of the bed in anger, he grabbed her ankle and proceeded to put the pants on her. Buffy tried to growl her displeasure at the vampire who was manhandling her all over the bed. When Spike started to yank her pants up past her thighs, she tried to squirm away from him.
“Spike! I can do it myself, you bleached brained vampire!” Buffy cried.
“Quit yapping, you’re giving me a headache and hold still!” Spike growled as he raised her legs like a parent would a baby, smacked her hard on her bare ass and pulled the sweatpants up to her waist.
Buffy screamed in humiliated anger and glared at him. “I hate you!”
“I have no love for you either, Slayer. So, we’re even,” Spike replied as he jerked her slip-on shoes onto her feet.
Before she could squirm away, Spike hauled her up over his shoulder and carried her out of the room, down the stairs while she beat on his back with her fists.
“Put me down, you overgrown parasite!” Buffy protested as he carried her out of the house and down the sidewalk.
Spike hauled a squirming Buffy the whole three blocks to the demon district. When he made it that far, he was tempted to open up one of the BFI garbage bins and toss her in it for all the trouble she was making.
Finally standing in front of the warehouse, Spike put her down on her feet in front of the doors. When it looked like she was going to fire an angry barrage of insults at him, Spike grabbed her shoulder, spun her around and pushed her inside the building.
Inside, a handful of humans were lounging around the derelict room with vampires sucking on various places of their bodies. Random trash, old bathtubs, and other broken down furniture littered the room. Buffy stared at the scene in dismay.
Spike nudged her toward the stairs. “Don’t stop, Slayer. This isn’t what we’re here for.”
Buffy scanned the room. Her brows furrowed in anger when she saw two large vampires that looked like they were overseeing the action. One of them was putting a fistful of cash into his vest pocket. Buffy’s frown deepened as she looked around. Her eyesight fell on Spike in disapproval. It was just like him to bring her here for kicks. Why did he bring her here in the first place and then tell her that she couldn’t dust any of the vampires? He only nodded towards the stairs, indicating that she should go up first. Infuriating vampire! Angel must have lost his mind when he came up with the great idea to have Spike help her.
Buffy glared at him before she ascended the stairs with Spike following. One of the vampires supervising the action caught the two strangers. He grabbed the blonde vampire and spun him around.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
“Just having a little look, mate,” Spike replied. “Keep it down.” He turned away to follow the Slayer up the stairs, but the vampire grabbed him again.
“You can’t go up there!”
Spike grabbed the vamp by the throat and shoved him to the floor and growled, “I said keep it down.”
Buffy watched the confrontation between her nemesis and the vampire from halfway up the stairs. Spike turned, adjusted his jacket, and motioned for her to proceed.
The second level was just as bad as the first. Spike led Buffy through the mess, following Riley’s scent to a slightly open door. She looked suspiciously at him and then went through the door. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Riley sitting bare-chested on a mattress on the floor, with a female vamp on his lap, drinking from his arm.
Riley didn’t notice her standing a few feet away when he ordered, “Harder.”
The vampire continued sucking.
Buffy gasped in shock at the sight and his words. It had sunk in that he was in the warehouse getting his blood sucked by a vampire, willingly! Riley looked up at the soft sound and saw her look of horror. The vampire continued to suck on his arm, even though he tensed up at the realization that his secret was out.
Riley gulped. “Buffy?”
Buffy stared at him, stunned. She backed away until she came up against Spike’s chest. When she turned and saw Spike’s smirk, Buffy pushed him away from her and ran away.
“Buffy!” Riley called out.
Spike turned his smirk on Riley and with mocking sincerity, said, “We only came here because we care about you, friend.” As Riley shoved his companion aside and got to his feet, Spike sneered. “You need help.” With that, Spike left Riley to straighten himself out and followed in Buffy’s wake.
Buffy hurried down the stairs where the two chief vampires were discussing business. As she got to the bottom, one of them moved to intercept her. The second vampire stepped in front of her, but she shoved him away and he went flying backwards into a wall as she ran out of the building. A few seconds later, Spike ran down the stairs in an attempt to catch up with her. The vampire still standing, growled at Spike as he passed him.
Buffy exited the warehouse, pausing at the bottom of the stairs, a shell-shocked expression still etched on her face. Spike burst out the door, ran passed her in his excited state and turned back.
“Angelu-,” he stopped himself before he said Angelus’ name. She wouldn’t understand the link Spike shared with Angel and Angelus now. Instead, he told her, “I thought you should know. He’s been at this for a month, Slayer. While you’re taking care of your mum, brat sister and slaying, he’s doing this.”
Buffy lifted her head and gave Spike a look so fierce that he stepped back. She ran past him and down the alley. Spike looked disappointed for all of a minute. Then he shrugged and went the opposite direction toward any bar that served blood and liquor in large quantities.
Spike walked to a lesser known, seedier bar than normally he normally went to. He wanted to be anywhere that hadn’t been tarnished by the Slayer or Riley Finn. Both of whom left a bad taste in his mouth nowadays. This babysitting shit was for the birds. He did not sign on to be Buffy’s keeper. So what if her love life is in shambles and that boy toy of hers was whoring himself out to vampires? It’s not his concern.
Spike swaggered into The Inner Level of Hell Bar & Pool Hall and threw a few bills on the table. He had broken down and bought his own liquor along with the cable TV. Leaning against the bar, he called for a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of blood, anything to drown the memories from tonight.
The Inner Level of Hell was the seedy, demon equivalent of a Playboy Club. The waitresses were dressed in a strapless, one-piece, corseted leotard with fake devil horns. One of said waitresses, with dark hair, walked passed him with a long tail swishing back and forth. That accessory was real.
Spike took the bottles that the bartender handed over and went to a booth in a dark corner. He had taken a couple of swigs when the dark-haired beauty stood across from him. The girl reminded him of Drusilla when she wanted to be playful and kittenish. The waitress silently offered her company with a flirtatious smile.
“No thanks, luv. I’ve got all the female company I need for one night,” Spike said as he lifted a bottle for emphasis.
The girl harrumphed angrily and stalked off, her long, pointed tail snapping furiously behind her. Spike’s scarred brow quirked up when he saw it and mildly wondered what that tail would do if she was really pissed. Then again, what could she do with it if she was frisky?
He shook his head. Damn women. Try to do something nice for ’em and what ’appens? You get shafted like a scarecrow on a stick in a corn field is what. Tried to please Dru and got left for a Chaos Demon of all things. Try to help Buffy by alerting her to Paint-By-Numbers doings while she’s been busy with her sick mum, and she nearly staked me with a death glare. I’m through with helping women!
You and me both, Angelus commented.
Jesus! What did I tell you about signaling before you speak? Spike asked irritably.
I’m bored. All Angel’s doing is trying to find Darla. It’s becoming tiresome, Angelus said in a lackluster tone.
Spike’s face shifted to his demon at the sound of Darla’s name. I’m really getting sick of the Darla updates from you. I don’t care one fig about that bloody bitch. They’re all useless if you ask me. Spike scoffed in disgust. Take Buffy for instance. I tried to do her favor and even showed her what was going on. Did I get a ‘thank you, Spike, for showing me what my pathetic excuse for a limp-dick boyfriend was up to. I’m grateful.’ No! I get the glare of dusting and her anger over literally dragging her out of bed to show her.
Women! The way Angelus said it sounded like a curse.
Spike’s face had shifted to his demon during that last statement and he growled before taking a swig of his beer. Once the beer was gone, he’d start on the blood.
**************************
Los Angeles, some rundown bar
Darla sat at a table in a real dive of a bar. Across from her was a vampire displaying his demon and growling at her.
“That’s great,” she said with a false smile, “really, very threatening.”
The vampire laughed around a mouth full of fangs. “It’s getting to you, isn’t it? You know, when I was a-a human, I didn’t have much luck with the women.”
“That’s hard to believe,” Darla said sardonically.
“I had kind of a skin condition,” the vampire confided. “But now, it’s something about the teeth I guess.” He bared his fangs to demonstrate. “Chicks go crazy for it.”
Darla leaned closer to him and commented flirtatiously, “You’ve got girlfriends everywhere I imagine.”
The vampire shrugged. “Well, mostly I just kill ’em and dump the bodies.”
She frowned in false compassion. “That must be very lonely for you.”
The vampire smirked. “We're a lonely sort, we creatures of the night; doomed to walk the earth, that kind of deal.”
“Ah,” she said, sounding intrigued. “How long have you been . . .?”
“Oh, an eternal child of the darkness?” he finished for her. “Since, ah, ’92.”
Darla’s brows shot up in disbelief. “19 . . . 92?”
She couldn’t believe her luck. She’d been trying all day to get herself turned. Ever since Lindsey forcefully dragged her back to Wolfram & Hart to announce that she was dying of the same syphilitic heart condition that had threatened to kill her when she was originally human.
She tried to get Angel to turn her before, but he refused. That damn soul of his was in the way of everything. He was the only one she knew in L.A. that she trusted to do it. With the expedited death sentence on her very short human life, she was forced to seek the dregs of vampires to turn her. It was revolting. And now, she’s found the one lug head who wasn’t even two decades old, let alone two centuries.
The vampire chuckled. “I know. It’s hard to believe it's already the last century.”
Not even close buster. On the outside, Darla tried to keep her irritation at bay. “And in all this . . . time you’ve never considered making yourself a mate?”
The vampire was brought up short by that. “How do you mean?”
She wanted to throttle this vampire. He was completely useless. She was a vampire for 388 years! This idiot wasn’t fit to shine her shoes. Back when she was still of the undead, this vampire would have been a minion that was quickly dusted.
“Well, isn't it true that some vampires choose a mortal, someone they can sire, someone who, too, can walk those lonely nights, hunting with them, feeding with them,” recoiling inside, she put her hand over his, “joining with them?”
The vampire looked down at her hand covering his and laughed hysterically. “No! That’d just be weird.”
“Weird?” Darla asked, shocked. “It’s mythic!”
The vampire shook his finger at her. “No, you’ve been reading too much Anne Rice lately! You’ve got no idea how this thing works!”
Darla ground her teeth in anger. I was a vampire a hell of a lot longer than you were. How the hell would you know? “Then teach me.”
“Oh, what, you want me to make you?” the vampire asked sarcastically.
“Why the hell do you think I came into this bar, for the snacks?” Darla shot back.
“Sweetheart, in this bar, you are the snacks,” the vampire sneered.
She put on a false smile. “I live nearby. We can go back to my place, you can do it there.”
“Y-you’re serious about this,” he said and saw her nod slightly. He was unsure about what she was asking. “So what? I make you and then you’d be like my immortal babe?”
“Yes,” she replied exasperated.
“Ah, well, that sounds like commitment to me.”
"Then use me for as long as you like, anyway you like, then discard me. No strings,” she said. After I get turned back, I’ll hunt you down and kill you on principle.
He thought about it for a moment and the jabbed a thumb behind him. “There is an alley out back.”
Darla immediately got to her feet, grabbed a hold of his wrist and dragged him out the door. She didn’t even notice Angel watching the whole scene and missed him when she passed him on the way to the exit door. Darla dragged the vampire down to the end of the cul-de-sac in the alley. Angel followed some distance behind.
“How do you know I won’t just kill you here, drain you and leave your body?” the vampire asked.
Darla put her purse down on the hood of a car and gave him a hard kiss, then stepped back. The vampire’s eyes had popped open wide at her boldness.
“I’ll take my chances,” she replied.
Angel grimaced when he saw the kiss. What the hell was she doing?
“I-I-I should probably mention that I . . . I’m not real clear on how this thing works,” the vampire said hesitantly.
“What?” she asked distractedly.
“Well, ah, I never actually did it, ah, to anybody before. I was kind of out when it happened to me,” the vampire stammered.
Darla took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll walk you through it.” She stepped closer and exposed her neck. “Drink, when you feel my heart start to slow, stop.”
The vampire leaned in while Darla closed her eyes. She couldn’t stomach watching this half-witted vampire turn her. She closed her eyes tightly and prayed that she didn’t remember who turned her when she woke up with regained senses. She’d surely kill him. The vampire was just about to sink his fangs into her neck when he suddenly dissolved into a cloud of dust revealing Angel behind him.
Darla’s eyes snapped open when she could no longer smell the vampire rancid odor. She glared at Angel when she saw him holding a stake. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Saving you,” he replied angrily.
“I wasn't in any danger, Angelus. Believe me, I picked a stupid one. I always pick the stupid ones, didn’t you know that?” she retorted. “I can take care of myself.”
“I didn’t mean from him. I was saving you from yourself,” Angel countered.
“Who asked you to?” Darla asked angrily.
“This isn’t the answer,” Angel said calmly.
“You don’t even know what the question is,” Darla said derisively. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”
Darla turned to walk past him, but Angel grabbed her upper arm and yanked her against him. When he was close to her face, he growled. “You do this thing and I won’t be able to leave you alone. Don’t you get that? I’ll never be able to leave you alone. We’re bound by blood. If you somehow manage to succeed,” he held up the stake and continued, “Next time it’ll be you on the end of this stake. I’m sorry, but I don’t want that, not again. I won’t choose between you and Spike either.”
“Don’t worry,” Darla said scornfully. “I wouldn’t let that,” she indicated the stake, “happen twice.” She pulled away from him and stomped away. When it sunk in concerning what he said about Spike, she spun around to face him. “Why not Angelus? You would choose me. You will always choose me, ’cause you know that only I can give you what you crave.”
“No, Darla, I would never choose you, not now. You always thought you were what I want, and you were always lacking. You have never been what I want, and I will stake you again if you try anything like this, if you become a vampire again," Angel replied.
“Angel . . . lover, you know it was you and me for an eternity, soul mates, whatever you needed. I am the one who can give it to you. The darkness you crave is in my playground,” Darla said seductively as she swayed her hips and walked back to him.
Angel growled as he grabbed her waist and pulled her roughly against him. Darla smiled at the reaction. She had finally reached him. Maybe he would do it after all.
“Never, Darla, from the moment you turned me until the moment your actions gave me this cursed soul. You have never been all that I want. You have never satisfied me.” With that, he threw her away from him like a rag doll and scowled at her. “In you, all I found was ash and dust. That is all you have to offer, all you’ve been able to offer me,” Angel spat out.
Darla nearly tripped on a crack in the cement beneath her and grabbed the door of the car for balance. She whirled around and glared at him through the fringe of her hair.
“And what does that worthless childe of yours offer you?” She straightened her posture and tried to present herself in a ladylike manner. “Dru could never offer anything. What the hell is so special about Spike?”
“Spike offers me more than I can express. He can relate to me. He makes living with Angelus bearable on occasion. He makes me feel like I don’t have to spend an eternity in guilt. He makes me feel like I can take a break from the overwhelming remorse that the soul gives me for the deeds I have done as Angelus. He gives me hope.”
“Well, isn’t that just wonderful. I made you, stayed with you for a century. Spike comes along and gives you hope? Hope for what? You’re a vampire with a guilt-ridden soul, no better than that lackey you just dusted,” Darla said angrily.
“You’re the reason I have this soul!” Angel yelled at her. “Spike’s given me a way to handle it better, even just a little. What did you do? You banned me from the family, from seeing my childer and you have the gall to say I need you? I haven’t needed you for a long time, Darla.”
Darla scoffed, harrumphed and walked away from him.
“Where are you going?” Angel called after her.
“Not back in there, everyone saw me leave with the mullet. I’ll try something on the west side, I guess,” she surmised.
“Another dive, another loser?” Angel asked.
Darla turned to face him and threw up her hands and angrily asked, “What do you care?”
“This isn’t you, Darla. You’re not desperate,” he pointed out, stepping closer to her.
Darla jabbed her finger at him. “You know; just because we had a thing for 150 years, don’t dare presume you know me!”
“So, you really want to be made by some creep in some filthy alley?” Angel asked her as if he were giving her a choice.
“I wanted you to do it,” Darla snapped.
“That’ll never happen,” Angel told her.
“I could go to Sunnydale and ask Spike to do it,” she suggested.
Angel laughed hysterically. “Do you really think Spike would want to turn you? After all the shit you’ve done to him over the years, not to mention what you’ve done recently by invading my dreams? That’s funny really.” He sobered up and became serious. “Spike can barely stand you and I know for damn sure that you can barely tolerate him.”
“I don’t want to be best pals with the spawn of hell, I just want to use him,” Darla said.
“I don’t think so,” Angel growled, ending that argument.
Darla turned to leave. “So, I do what I have to do. Anyway, you were made in an alley if I recall.”
She was several steps away before Angel called out, “That’s not the point.”
Darla angrily whirled around to face him. “What is the point, Angelus?”
Angel ground his teeth at the use of his full name. He stalked towards her purposefully. “The point is: You were undead for nearly 400 years, you’ve only been human again for a few months. Why not give it some time?”
“I don’t have time,” Darla stressed.
“Yes, you do. You’ve been given a second chance. Don’t throw that away before you have the opportunity to --” Angel started to say.
Darla closed her eyes as she cut in, “I’m dying.”
She couldn’t look at him while she said the words that sounded like a nail in her coffin. Angel stared at her in shock. Darla’s whole body was still. Though, he could hear her heartbeat flutter as if she were frightened.
“What?” Angel asked. His voice didn’t sound like his. The word, question, and intent just came out. A gunshot couldn’t have had a deeper impact.
Darla opened her eyes and glared at him, nodding slightly. “Yeah, and not some time. Not later. Now. Right now. They showed me the medical files; all the tests said the same thing: I have about two months left, three at the most. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m in sort of a hurry.”
She turned on her heel and hurried away, leaving Angel to stare after her. When her words finally sunk in, he ran after her. He rounded the corner of the bar and nearly collided with her. Angel grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him.
“What?! What do you want now? Do you want to stand here until I finally die while you decide what’s morally right so that your penitent soul won’t suffer anymore than it has to? I don’t have time for it, Angelus!” Darla yelled at him. She tried to shrug out of his hold. “Let go of me!”
“I want to help you,” Angel said quietly.
“You want to help me? Then turn me!” She demanded.
“I can’t do that, Darla. I can’t make another vampire,” Angel denied.
“You mean you won’t help me, so I need to find someone who will,” Darla said and turned away from him.
“Darla, wait. At least, let me try to see what I can do,” Angel proposed.
She just looked him. He took her silence as an agreement and escorted her back to her hotel to collect her things.
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Cordelia was behind the reception desk when they heard someone open the doors. She turned to Wesley who was reading a newspaper in Angel’s office.
“Angel’s back,” she said in a loud whisper. Wesley glanced up in mild interest. “And he has Darla with him!” The former watcher immediately got up as Cordelia walked around the counter to confront them.
“Hi!” she said in false greeting. Then she saw the overnight bag in Darla’s hand. “You’re . . . planning on sleeping over?”
Darla dropped the bag in annoyance. “I’m dying.”
Cordelia nodded in disbelief as she glanced over at Angel with disapproval. “So, just for the one night, then.”
Wesley walked around the reception desk and looked Darla over. “Dying?” She didn’t look to be dying from where he was standing.
Darla nodded toward the dark vampire. “He doesn’t believe it.”
“Angel, what's going on?” Wesley asked, confused.
“Wolfram & Hart showed her some medical files supposedly proving that she’s only got a few months left to live,” Angel replied.
“So, maybe more than the one night,” Cordelia amended.
“And you believe it's some kind of trick?” Wesley asked.
“We’re talking about Wolfram & Hart! Of course it’s a trick. They’re trying to play some kind of mind game,” Angel said angrily.
“To what end?” Wesley asked, still confused as he tried to assess the situation in his watcher-trained mind.
“I don’t know, but we’re not gonna take the bait,” Angel growled. That damn law firm was getting on his last nerve. The idea of handing that weasel Lindsey over to Spike, followed by Lilah, was starting to look really good right now.
“No, you just don’t want to believe it, that’s all,” Darla countered.
“I don’t want to believe anything from them,” Angel shot back.
“It’s true. They can’t really be trusted,” Wesley confirmed.
Darla sighed in irritation. “I don’t trust them, but I know a thing or two about mind games.” She glanced at Angel. “So do you. We played them together for over a century.”
“Yes, but you were just soulless bloodsucking demons, they’re lawyers,” Cordelia chimed in.
“She’s right. We were amateurs,” Angel told Darla.
“And if you’re wrong?” she challenged.
Angel thought it over for a minute. “I’m not. And I’m going to prove it to you.” He went down the steps to the lobby and pulled Wesley and Cordelia aside. “Can you guys just watch over her for a while? I’ll be back soon.”
“Of course,” Wesley readily agreed.
“Don’t worry about a thing,” Cordelia said all-too-cheerfully.
Angel looked at them strangely and then turned to leave. “Thanks.” I think.
“You can’t force me to stay here,” Darla said as he passed her.
“You’re not a prisoner.” Angel was starting to get tired of her arguing all the time.
“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” she commented sadly.
“Just give me a chance. Okay?” His voice sounded strained.
Angel and Darla shared a look and then he was gone. As she slowly turned around, Darla found herself face-to-face with Angel’s pet humans.
“So,” Cordelia said ominously. “First up: You’re a prisoner.”
“I’d have to concur with that, yes,” Wesley agreed.
“See, you’ve got our friend . . . all . . . in knots,” Cordelia continued.
“Can’t say we like you much,” Wesley added as the two of them advanced on her.
“So, sorry about the dying, but if you try to escape, we will hit you,” Cordelia told her.
“On the head,” Wesley added.
“With very large and heavy objects. Okay?” Cordelia finished with a false smile.
**************************
Sunnydale, Crawford Street Mansion
Spike was lounging on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, flipping through channels. As a creature of the night, he should be out prowling through town, but after what happened with Buffy, he didn’t think it would be safe for his non-dusty welfare.
Angelus kept him company, telling Spike stories of Angel’s souled years wandering the world. Every now and then he would slip out and come back with a status report. First, Angel and Darla were arguing. Now, Angel was tormenting that lawyer, Lindsey, again. Why did that not surprise him? His whole family was confrontational. There was never peace, even during the good times.
Come on Spike. You have come down. Who knows what kind of mayhem Angel has brewing. Angelus cleared his throat. Well, I do . . . but – Baby boy, why don’t you call a truce and come down to L.A.? Please?
Spike scoffed. Angelus was reduced to begging! His Sire wanted him to just forgive Angel for the elder vampire’s actions with Darla and go down there to make up. Nearly two centuries and Angelus was still trying to appease him where that whoring bitch was concerned. No thanks.
Damn it, Spike, grow up and start acting like the 127-year-old vampire you are. You can’t hold a grudge forever.
I held it pretty well for 125 years, what are 125 more? Spike inquired. |
