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How to Treat Your
Lover
by Tami
Chapter 46
Chapter 46: Step 3 – Estrangement (Part 13)
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
The dawning light fought to penetrate the suite on the third floor of the hotel, but it was blocked by heavy drapes. The door of a cabinet stood ajar in the sitting room of the suite. The cabinet was minus a few bottles of cheap wine. Inside the adjoining bedroom, two empty wine bottles littered the floor. Angel lay clothed across the end of the bed, propped up with his arm on a pillow, clutching a bottle of wine while Spike reclined lengthways against the pillows, clothed except for his bare feet. There was a bottle of wine perched between his legs.
“You know, of all the things you’ve done over the years,” Spike slurred and stopped for a moment to think of how to say what he was on his mind. “And you’ve done some – really – shitty things to me over those years. Having me babysit a slayer has to be the worst. Noooooooo . . . wait . . .” he grabbed the bottle from between his legs and slammed it down on the mattress, sloshing the liquid inside the quarter-empty bottle. “Babysitting my dying grandsire. That has to be the worst. But then again, going against me nature not to kill an enemy?”
“I’m really sorry, Spike,” Angel drawled drunkenly.
He was long past the buzz-stage of drinking. It may have been cheap wine, but damn if it wasn’t a strong variety. It may have been magicked somehow. It had to be. They normally didn’t get drunk on cheap liquor. Or maybe it was because the topic of discussion wasn’t his favorite and he let the alcohol take effect.
“I made you do so many things you didn’t want to,” Angel slashed his bottle through the air. “And – and – and I don’t just mean the babysitting. I mean forcing you to become evil like Angelus; telling you that William wasn’t a good name. It’s a good name. It’s a strong name. Willlliammm, means ‘protector’. It fits you. You took care of Dru, and Darla and Buffy.” There was a moment of silence. “And Cordelia. And Fred.”
“That’s right. I’m always cleaning up after you. You tend to leave a string of women in your wake in various stages of brokenness,” Spike slurred. He slowly thought about it. “Is ‘brokenness’ a word?”
Angel shrugged. “You’re the poet. You tell me.”
“Broke-en-ness, Broke-ness?” Spike said repeatedly. “Now it doesn’t soddin’ sound right.”
“That didn’t either,” Angel laughed at his inebriated childe.
Spike scowled, then shrugged and went on. “What was I saying?”
“That I leave a lot of broken-hearted women in my wake for you to fix,” Angel offered.
“That’s right. You do. Darla and Buffy . . . by the way, you should never have those two in a room together,” Spike shook his head in agreement to his own words.
“That goes without saying,” Angel replied sardonically and took a swig of wine.
“And Dru! Couldn’t you have at least left a few more working brain cells in her head? It would have been helpful being that you were planning on turning her,” Spike said offhandedly. “And Fred . . . I swear, if I wasn’t mated to you and loved her like a baby sister, I’d be chasing her. Nab her up before Charlie-boy could get his mitts on her.”
That sobered Angel a bit. “Gunn and Fred? No way.” He shook his head at the idea. “There was that teasing before the ballet. But, no . . . she’s too good for him. She’s too good for you. She had a crush on me. I’m the ‘handsome man that saved her from the monsters.’”
“Keep it up, mate. We just got her weaned off hero-worshipping you. Do you want to get her back on that train? I never fancied myself sharing a bed with two other people – especially after that time in the East End,” Spike commented.
Angel glanced at the sitting room and saw a stream of daylight trying to peek through a crack in the drapes. They had been up all night trying to sort out their muddled relationship. ‘Trying’ is the operative word since they’ll be working things out in the next century or two. But for now, they had discussed enough over the last nine hours to let the matter rest.
“What do you say to: tossing the rest of this wine and go find some blood?” Angel suggested.
“Sounds good to me,” Spike replied.
Setting aside the bottles, they put their shoes on and Spike shrugged into a clean shirt. They grabbed all of the bottles and poured the remainder of the alcohol down the drain of the bathroom sink and took the empty bottles downstairs to pitch in the kitchen trash. Usually, they’d race each other to the kitchen, but after a night of drinking, the thought of running made Spike physically ill with motion sickness. The two flights of stairs alone caused vertigo.
They were passing the manager’s office when Angel happened to glance over and saw Wesley sitting at the desk. He stopped without alerting Spike and the blonde vampire collided with his broad back.
“Soddin’ ape, warn a bloke first before you decide to just quit walking,” Spike grumbled.
Wesley looked up from his work when he heard Spike cursing a blue streak at Angel. He got up and walked to the doorway. “Good morning to you too, Spike.”
“You’re the only one here?” Angel asked, looking around for Cordelia.
“So far,” Wesley replied. He looked down and saw the two wine bottles. “Have you two been on a drinking binge?”
“We had . . . things to discuss after what happened last night,” Angel replied.
“Get everything worked out then?”
“Not likely,” Spike spoke up from behind Angel’s shoulder as he took the bottles to the kitchen.
“Enough of enough,” Angel added. “Cordelia’s usually in by now, isn’t she?”
“It’s still early. I imagine that she and Groosalug were up late. They have a lot of catching up to do,” Wesley said with a skeptical look between the bottles and the two vampires. “Probably like you two had.”
“Doubt that, mate,” Spike grumbled as he came back.
“Right, ah, they,” Angel said quickly.
“They who?”
Angel and Spike spun around – Spike nearly stumbling over his feet in the process – to see Cordelia put her purse and coat down on the reception desk.
“You’re here,” Angel greeted.
“And . . . so is he,” Spike gestured towards the weapons cabinet where Groo was trying out one of the swords.
“Angel, your weapons are most impressive,” Groo commented.
“Thanks,” Angel squeaked and then cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He grabbed a hold of Cordelia’s arm, still watching as Groo checking out his weapons. “Can you, uh, ask him not to handle my weapons?”
Cordelia spared a glance at her pseudo-boyfriend and shrugged off Angel’s concern. “Oh, relax. If there’s anything Groo knows, it’s how to handle a weapon – poor guy. Looks like that’s about all he’s going to be handling. Besides, I don’t see why you’re all bent out of shape, it’s not like he’s handling Spike.”
“Hey! I do not need to be handled!” Spike protested.
“So you mean, ah, you two didn’t . . .?” Angel started to say.
“I got him home last night and we started . . . you know,” Cordelia hedged. “But then, I couldn’t go through with it.”
Angel’s brow rose at that. “You couldn’t?”
“Cold feet, luv? He can’t get it up? Not enough stamina? Is he impotent?” Spike asked with a smirk.
“No, Spike! Gawd! Only you would think that! I couldn’t do it after seeing that disgusting, spiny thing!”
Angel glanced at Groo still handling his weapons a moment before he and Spike followed Cordelia to the manager’s office. “Spiny?” he prompted.
Cordelia waved her hand in front of her eyes. “Right up in my face! That’s what the visions are like now. No pain, less artsy, sometimes floaty, though not lately, and very often stinky.”
That got Wesley’s attention. “You had a vision?”
“Yeah, big as life,” Cordelia showed them a sketch she had drawn of the latest Big Bad. “Last night while Groo and I were getting reacquainted, it killed the mood.”
You should have called one of us,” Wesley admonished.
“Oh please! Like I’m going to bother you guys in the middle of the night because I want sex and can’t have it.”
“I wouldn’t object. If you need a stand-in . . .” Spike offered.
“Actually, I meant the vision,” Wesley clarified.
Cordelia shrugged. “Oh. That. Well, it’s not rising up until sometime later today.”
“Oh,” Spike replied and moved on to the more important topic at hand. “So, why can’t you have sex?”
Angel’s brow furrowed at his mate’s over-eagerness to copulate with his secretary. Spike seemed all too happy to help Cordelia with her dry spell. A little too happy, if you asked him. They’d just found common ground with each other. The last thing he wanted to deal with was another woman coming between them, of which there had been a few over the years.
“I could lose my visionity,” Cordelia replied.
Wesley scoffed and went back to his work. “If you want to play it that way.”
Cordelia’s brows furrowed. “Vision-ity!” The visions. When that one hit me last night, it hit me. In Pylea the visions were supposed to pass to Groo if we ever did the royal com-shuck. How do I know that won’t happen here?”
Angel perked up at that. “Good point. You really don’t.”
“But your recent transformation to half-demon could have changed all that. It might be possible to . . .”
Angel didn’t feel like getting his assignments from Groosalug the Brave and whatever the hell he was in Pylea. For Wesley to suggest that Cordelia take that risk was more than he could take.
In annoyance, Angel kicked the side of Wesley’s desk as the former Watcher moved his chair. “Still, you know, better safe than sorry.” Addressing Cordelia, he said, “You’re doing the right thing.”
“Wait a minute,” Spike cut in. “How come no one told me that Cordelia became half demon?”
“I’m sorry, Spike. But it occurred while she was in coma. When she awoke, she was part demon and appeared to float in mid-air while having a vision,” Wesley replied.
“You float?” Spike asked Cordelia.
“Every now and then when I have a vision,” she smiled. “I even glow.” Everyone looked at her. “I discovered that the other night when I was looking for a shoe under the bed.” They continued to stare. “What? They were Pradas!”
“They’re just shoes!” Spike, Angel, and Wesley chorused.
“I know. I know,” Cordelia held up her hands in surrender. “Back to the dilemma at hand, I can’t risk losing my visions. It’s just that I’m so . . .” She glanced at Groo from the office doorway. He was swinging a sword. “And he’s such a . . . grrrr . . . .” She turned and smiled as the three men. “Don’t you think?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Angel said awkwardly.
“Certainly,” Wesley coughed.
“Bloody marvelous,” Spike grumbled.
“I mean, there’s gotta be other things we can do to relieve the tension!” Cordelia bemoaned.
“Jogging could be a thing,” Angel suggested.
“Or Yoga,” Spike added.
“Perhaps some form of paranormal prophylactic . . .” Wesley started to suggest but then trailed off when he caught glares from both vampires.
“I guess we could probably ‘com’ without actually ‘shucking’,” Cordelia mused as she watched Groo.
“I don’t know about that, pet,” Spike commented.
“That could be a slippery slope that once you’re on, that you could . . . slide,” Angel knew he was fighting a losing battle with her.
Cordelia shrugged. “At least I won’t be upsetting the average around here. Everyone in this office is pretty much celibate anymore.”
“Hey!” Spike and Angel cried.
“EUREKA!” Wesley shouted.
The shout startled everyone including Groo who jumped into fighting stance with sword at the ready.
“I’m sorry,” Wesley apologized. “I have to call Fred and Gunn in from breakfast. I found the demon!”
Fifteen minutes later, Fred and Gunn strolled into the hotel with strange smiles on their faces and took a seat on the round settee. Everyone but Groo and Wesley seemed to notice.
“Told you something was going on with those two,” Spike whispered to Angel.
“I’ve identified the demon from Cordelia’s vision as a Senih’d,” Wesley said as he handed Gunn an open book. “We believe it will rise in the mid-city area sometime before nightfall.”
Gunn looked at the illustration and then handed the book to Fred who sat beside him. Wesley’s lips thinned when he noticed their shared smiles as their hands lingered during the hand-off.
Wesley cleared his throat and went on with the explanation as the book was passed around. “The Senih’d manifests in its physical form for one purpose only – to feed.”
“Seen it,” Cordelia said as she passed the book on to Groo standing beside her.
“Immediately upon rising, it will go to ground to search for a victim. We’ve got to make sure it doesn’t find one,” Wesley continued.
Spike took the book from Groo and Angel looked at the illustration over his shoulder. Angel glanced at Groo then lifted up on his toes for a moment before dropping down again.
“Angel and Spike will take the sewer tunnels. The rest of us will go by car to Sorensen Park. We’ll enter the underground from the water treatment plant there and from there, double back. Hopefully by the time we meet up again . . .”
“I know this creature. It resembles the Bleaucha, which nest in the scum pits of Ur. I’ve slain many,” Groo announced.
“Really?” Weskey asked, momentarily intrigued.
“Tracking it will be simple. Killing it, more difficult,” Groo conceded.
“Well, yeah,” Angel grumbled which earned him an elbow jab to the ribs from Spike.
“All right then. Groo, you go with Angel and Spike. Let’s move out,” Wesley said as he spun on his heel to lead the way.
Everyone stopped by the weapons cabinet to make their choice before leaving the hotel. Angel glanced up just in time to see Cordelia handing over a sword.
“Here’s a nice one,” Cordelia smiled as Groo accepted it.
“That’s my favorite broadsword!” Angel cried, nearly weeping at the sight of someone else handling his weapon.
“I don’t know why you’re acting this way, Angel. You’ll be fine,” Wesley assured him with a pat on his shoulder before walking away.
“Are you sure you’re going to be warm enough?” Cordelia asked as she blindly handed Angel a weapon. “The sewers are pretty damp.”
“I shall be fine,” Groo replied.
Spike chuckled, watching Angel’s bewildered expression as the dark vampire turned the ax in his hand. There was a small head on it. Angel glanced up to see Cordelia kissing Groo on the cheek, unmindful of him.
As Cordelia and Groo started to walk off together, Angel raised the blunt end of the axe, ready to strike one or both of them over the head. Spike’s quick reflexes stopped him in mid-swing with a hand on his forearm. The blonde pried the axe out of Angel’s hand and exchanged it for another weapon.
“Here, take this one,” Spike said as he held out the sword he had gotten Angel for Christmas.
“But, I didn’t want to use it unless I had to. I was saving it for a rainy day,” Angel pouted as he took the sword.
“Well, it seems to be pouring now,” Spike quipped as he chose a weapon for himself and followed Groo to the sewer access.
When the vampires caught up to him, Groo announced, “I shall present this beast’s head to my princess as a token.”
“Right,” Angel commented sardonically. “’Cause she’ll love that.”
**************************
“Do you sense anything?” Angel asked as the three of them walked along a tunnel.
“Just the foul stench of sewer,” Spike replied.
“I sense a deep sadness,” Groo said forlornly. The two vampires looked at him. “In my Princess,” he clarified. “She is unhappy. I fear I am the cause.”
“No. No, she’s not unhappy you’re here, Groo,” Angel replied.
“She’s bloody thrilled,” Spike added.
“Then what keeps her from me? There is a distance – as if her heart is not free,” Groo asked as he continued on through the tunnel.
“I-I think – that maybe she’s afraid to get too close. She’s, ah, scared if she does, she’ll lose something,” Angel said.
“But I would give myself to her,” Groo said adamantly.
Spike squeezed his eyes shut at that. “There’s an image I never wanted to see in my head.”
Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the tunnel. Angel grabbed Groo by the shoulder to stop him. Stepping forward, he crouched down and examined a drop of liquid on the ground.
“It is wounded. It bleeds,” Groo commented.
Angel glanced up at Spike. “It’s better than bread crumbs. Let’s go.”
They entered the sublevel of the water treatment plant Wesley had mentioned. The Senih’d dropped down behind them from the overhanging pipes. The trio spun around and attacked the demon. The Senih’d managed to disarm two of them easily enough, but they didn’t let that slow them down. While Spike continued to fight it with his sword, Angel and Groo jumped into the fray with their fists and Angel’s fangs. Angel looked worse for the wear, but held out against the monster until it let out an ear-piercing scream and broke through the wall to escape into the sunlit park outside.
Spike snatched Angel back out of the flood of sunlight as Groo picked up his sword and ran through the hole in the wall. Upon realizing that the two vampires didn’t follow him, he turned back and gestured for them to follow, but Angel just squinted at him as he shrank back from the harmful rays. A woman’s scream distracted Groo and he left the vampires to run after the Senih’d.
Angel pulled away from Spike and inched as close to the opening as he dared. From his vantage point, he watched as Groo rescued the young woman from the Senih’d. The demon tried to use the woman as a shield against Groo’s sword, but Groo managed to separate the demon from the woman.
Then Angel saw Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn and Fred run over a rise in the park, just in time to see Groo catch the woman in one arm while he knocked the Senih’d down and stabbed it in the back of the neck. The demon dissolved into a black, oily puddle that seeped away into the pavement. The dark vampire watched the rescued woman hug Groo for saving her.
“Well done,” he heard Wesley say to the warrior. He watched as Cordelia hugged Groo and the others pat him on the back. He heard Wesley compliment Groo again, “I must say: excellent work.”
The people in the park gathered around the small group and applauded, thinking it was a performance. After congratulating Groo again, Wesley glanced at the hole in the side of the building and saw Angel standing just inside the shadows, watching them. After a moment, Angel hung his hand and Spike’s arm came into view as he took his mate under arm and they disappeared.
“You can’t get them every time,” Spike was saying as they headed back to the hotel. Angel was silent, trudging beside him. When he received no answer, Spike went on, “So what if the guy can hunt demons, and go out in the light and kill them? He doesn’t have excellent night vision, or super speed, or preternatural senses, eternal life, sexual prowess that surpasses Caligula, and . . . he can’t fuck our Cordelia without her losing the visions.”
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Manager’s Office
“You think you know someone. You think your place is secure and that there’s a future there.”
Angel sat behind the desk, across from a dark-haired woman, Ms. Frakes, and watched Groo as he re-enacted his fight with the demon for Cordelia, Gunn and Fred.
“And then something happens,” she was saying. “No strike that! Someone happens! They insinuate themselves, pushing you out, taking your place.”
Angel watched Groo drop down beside Cordelia, catching her in a hug. He wasn’t upset that Cordelia finally had a boyfriend. What was gnawing at him was that his team – his friends – was so accepting of the man. It was like Angel didn’t exist anymore. He was the Dark Avenger, damn it and they all acted like Groo was the original Avenger. Maybe he needed a vacation? He could go somewhere with Spike and leave Groo to take care of the business.
Angel turned his attention back to Ms. Frakes who it seemed was waiting for him to acknowledge her plight. Clearing his throat his asked, “And what makes you think this other woman is a witch, Ms. – Frakes?”
“Why else would Jerry cheat on me? We’ve been engaged for eight years! She had to have put some kind of spell on him,” Ms. Frakes insisted.
“Eight years? Are you sure it wasn’t that he just gave up and found a new girl?” Spike asked from his perch on the edge of the desk. He received a scowl for his remark.
Angel leaned back in his chair, considering the situation. “If you can give me the woman’s name, I’ll have someone check her out. See if we can find out if she’s a . . . witch.”
“HotBlond37159,” Ms. Frakes said all-too-quickly as she handed over a sheaf of papers. “I got these off the emails that I took from Jerry’s computer.”
“It’s, ah, gonna . . .” Angel looked up as Wesley walked into the office. “Uh, it’s gonna be pretty difficult to find her based solely on this.”
“Well, just follow Jerry! I’m sure he’ll lead you right to her,” Ms. Frakes said.
Angel handed the emails to Wesley. “Ms. Frakes here wants us to stake out her fiancé. I was trying to explain to her that . . .”
“I think we can spare someone to keep an eye on Ms. Frakes’ fiancé. Gunn!” Wesley cut in, taking the papers. “Gunn! If witchcraft is involved, we should probably look into it.” Spike and Angel gave Wesley surprised looks that he was actually taking the case.
“What’s up?” Gunn asked as he walked in.
“Ah, Gunn, Ms. Frakes here needs some surveillance work. I thought that if you were free . . .”
Gunn nodded. “Yeah, not a problem.”
“Good,” Wesley said as he handed the emails over. “She’ll give you the details. I’ll leave it in your hands.”
“Sure thing.”
Fred smiled at Wesley as she came into the office. “We won’t let you down.”
When they were out of sight, Spike scoffed. “Great going with trying separate those two, Percy. They’re as thick as thieves now.”
“I-I am quite certain that I have no clue what you’re talking about Spike,” Wesley said uneasily. “I need to go to the book store.”
“I’ll come with you,” Angel offered. He ignored the shocked expressions of his mate and Wesley as he clapped Spike on the shoulder in passing, “Make sure Groo doesn’t steal anything.”
“By that you mean Cordy or your swords?” Spike smirked. He was rewarded with a glare.
**************************
An Occult Book Shop in Los Angeles
Wesley browsed through the selection while Angel stood around, bored out of his mind. But seeing that his alternative was being in a hotel with Groo retelling how he bested the latest Big Bad, a musty book shop was the lesser of two evils. Thinking of which . . .
“I don’t know,” Angel said distracted as he aimlessly flipped through a book and replaced it on the shelf. “Maybe they should just do it, you know? Get it over with.”
“I’m sorry?” Wesley inquired. They who, Cordy and Spike? Fred and Gunn?
“Cordy and Groo,” Angel clarified, causing Wesley to breathe a sigh of relief as the dark vampire continued, “She’s being all noble for the good of the team. She should just make it with the com-shuck. That’s what she wants.”
“Oh,” Wesley replied, hoping he sounded interested and thoughtful on the subject.
“May I help you?” the clerk asked.
Thankful for the distraction, Wesley replied, “Yes. I phoned earlier about Grammaticus Third Century Greek Commentaries.”
The clerk nodded. “Of course. The G.T.C.G.C. I’ll be just one moment.”
“Thank you.”
Angel was still lost in his diatribe. “I mean, why not? Life is short. Okay, so not mine or Spike’s, but most people. And if Groo does it for her, she should go for it.” He selected another book and flipped through it blindly as he grumbled, “Make him happy. Make her happy. Spike would even give her tips on technique I’m sure. It’ll make everybody happy.”
“But still – office romance – complicates things. What if they should have a row, or break up?” Wesley asked.
“Spike and I do that on a regular basis already,” Angel said. “Hell, we all fight with each other at some point. I don’t see it changing things much.”
“She did say it herself: it could risk the visions,” Wesley pointed out.
“Okay, so the visions pass to Groo. He gets them instead of her. I don’t see the big deal,” Angel replied.
Wesley studied Angel for a moment. “Are you suggesting that the Groosalug could replace Cordelia?”
Angel continued to browse, mumbling, “Maybe not Cordelia.”
“Ah. You think he could replace you.”
Angel heaved a sigh. “Seems to me, here’s a guy who can do everything I can . . . and a few things I can’t.”
“That’s not true,” Wesley countered.
“You saw what happened this afternoon. If Groo hadn’t been there . . .”
“Then the rest of us would have,” Wesley cut in. “Angel, you’re the reason we’ve all come together. It’s your mission that animates us. We each contribute, it’s true, but you – you’re unique. You’re like one of these rare volumes. A one of a kind.”
Angel gave him a slight smile and then frowned when the clerk showed up with a stack of books saying, “I’ve got three of them.”
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel
Wesley walked in with Angel, his prized tomes under his arm. “I’ll get started translating this material right away.”
“Well, ah, Wesley – thanks – for what you said before. You put things into perspective for me,” Angel said.
“Glad I could,” Wesley acknowledged. “While I do believe having another warrior for good may be an asset in the coming days. Truth is: you and the Groosalug are two totally different people.” He trailed off as he looked up to see Groo, his hair cut short, dressed in a set of Angel’s clothes. “. . . Who look exactly alike.”
“Ah, hello,” Groo said in greeting.
Angel gave a pitiful growl under his breath. “He’s wearing my clothes.”
“And they are a good fit,” Wesley commented.
Groo smiled up at them. Angel returned it with a tight smile of his own as he stormed through the lobby to the manager’s office. “Where’s Cordelia?”
Cordelia stood up as Angel walked into the office, his face looked as if it would break under the strain of the forced smile.
“You’re back!” Cordelia said cheerily.
“He’s wearing my clothes!” Angel screeched.
“What? Oh yeah,” Cordelia shrugged. “I-I didn’t think you’d mind. He couldn’t fit any of Spike’s clothes, but it turns out that you two are about the same size. He looks great doesn’t he?”
“He’s wearing my clothes!” Angel repeated.
Cordelia waved him off. “You said that already. Look, I need your help to have sex with him.”
“You want me to what?” Angel asked perplexed.
“I know it’s a personal favor . . .” Cordelia started to say.
“You don’t say?” Angel gestured wildly at Groo through the office window. “He’s wearing my clothes! I’d say that was personal.”
“I realized something today. It’s not the threat of losing the visions that’s been keeping me from being close. It’s me. The visions are just an excuse. I mean, there’s always some excuse,” Cordelia said.
“Right . . .” Angel prompted.
“And you have Spike. I’m tired of being lonely,” Cordelia whined.
“Yeah . . .” Angel nodded in agreement.
“So, I worked it out,” Cordelia continued.
“You did?”
“Yes! It was something Wesley said – a paranormal prophylactic. And that got me to thinking . . .”
“Of course it would.”
“It got me to thinking that I couldn’t be the only woman on earth with some supernatural gift that could be lost through physical intimacy,” Cordelia said.
“Uh huh, I still don’t see where this involves me,” Angel commented dryly.
“I started researching and I’m right. There’s a potion, a protective potion. I take it and bang! I can . . . you know . . . with him.”
“A potion?” Angel raised a brow.
“Yeah, anyway, this woman’s name is Anita, and she’s kind of in the business. She makes love potions, elixirs, things like that. She says she’s got just the thing at this address,” Cordelia said as she scribbled the address on a Post-It note and handed it over.
“What do you want me to do with it?” Angel asked, sounding even less pleased than before he arrived.
“I went to my ATM, got cash,” Cordelia handed him a wad of bills. “It nearly cleaned me out, but I think it’s worth it.”
“So you and Groo can . . .” Angel made strange hand gestures.
“Com-shuck like bunnies. You betcha,” Cordelia replied all-too-quickly.
“Why can’t you just send him?” Angel asked.
“I am sending him. He kind of insisted on it, but that’s why I need you.”
“Huh?” Angel asked quizzically.
“He doesn’t know this world. I can’t just send him into a demon brothel all by himself! I mean, I trust him, but I’m not crazy.”
“A brothel? Why not send Spike then?” Angel asked as he glanced at the address.
“Can you imagine Spike in a demon brothel? On the other hand, you’d be safe there. No woman can tempt you, right?” Cordelia said matter-of-factly.
Angel scoffed. “Right, I’m a vampire of steel fortitude.”
Groo walked into the office and asked expectantly, “Are we ready?”
“I think so,” Cordelia grinned.
“We’re most grateful for your help, Angel,” Groo said as he slung an arm around Angel’s shoulder and hugged him. “You’ve been a true friend to us both.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” Angel said irritated.
They walked out of the hotel, Groo’s arm still around Angel’s stiff shoulders. A few minutes later, Spike came out of the kitchen with a newly heated glass of blood.
“Who was that?”
“Angel just left with Groo,” Cordelia replied.
“So, how’d the old Sire like Groo’s new makeover?” Spike asked behind his drink.
“I don’t think he was happy in the least. Why didn’t you tell me that Angel wouldn’t approve of Groo wearing his clothes?” Cordelia admonished.
“Princess, no man is happy with another man wearing his clothes. I know all you bloody women probably grew up sharing each other’s clothes, but for men it’s personal. Like someone else sleeping with your wife, personal.” Spike shrugged. “Besides, it’s good to get Angel going every now and then. It lets him know that he’s not always the center of the universe.”
**************************
Los Angeles, Demon Brothel
A businessman walked down the hallway of the well-lit mansion with a lady-demoness on his arm. They crossed paths with another lady as she came around the corner, followed by Angel and Groo.
“I love your outfits,” the woman commented with a hint of amusement.
“Well, I wouldn’t call them outfits,” Angel contradicted.
“But you are together,” Anita asked.
Groo squeezed Angel’s shoulder, “Yes! Two champions here together.”
Angel shrugged away from Groo’s hand. “Not ‘together’ together, just ‘get the potion’ together.”
“Yes, so I may com-shuck with my princess,” Groo said enthusiastically.
“Just to reiterate,” Angel said, pointing to himself, “not the princess.” He turned towards the sound of laughter to see a couple romping on the bed of a reddish room.
Noticing Angel’s sudden silence, Anita followed his line of sight through the doorway. “The room is enchanted. Everything that happens in there, every touch, every emotion, every desire is extended for maximum pleasure. I check the schedule if there is someone special you would like to bring.” With a knowing smile, she took Groo by the arm and led him down the corridor. After a moment, Angel started to follow.
Angel got as far as the next room before he was distracted once more. He turned at the sound of tinkling laughter and looked through the doorway to see five, exotically beautiful demonesses petting each other. The voyeur in him took over and he leaned against the doorjamb to watch.
Feeling eyes on them, the five demonesses turned towards the door and their golden eyes locked on Angel. Two of them broke from the group and sashayed over to him. Each one grabbed a lapel and pulled his jacket off as they guided him into the room. Then his button shirt disappeared and he was pushed down into an overstuffed chair. Next thing he knew, he was surrounded by five sultry beauties, with long dark hair and ample breasts rubbing against him.
Angel had to remind himself that he was mated to another. Spike would probably get a kick out of his current situation, if for nothing else than to use it as fodder against him later.
“Um, ladies, as much as this is – hey, watch the hands! – This is very flattering, and believe me, it is. I can’t stay. I have – oh, God, that feels good – I have champion things to do,” Angel tried to protest as their hands worked his body over in the best massage he’d ever experienced.
Angel resisted their insistent tugging to gain his feet and not step on anyone as he made his way to his shirt and jacket. The five demonesses followed him with their eyes. Three of them crawled after him to grab for him only to snatch his shirt away. Miraculously, he managed to save his jacket. The demonesses were scenting his shirt in turns.
He backed out of the room, watching them warily. “That’s fine. Keep the shirt. Don’t really need it anyway. Everyone seems to be enamored with my clothes today.”
Angel stumbled out of the room and hit the wall adjacent to the door. He hurriedly walked down the hall to the room that Groo and the hostess were in.
The woman turned towards him as he walked in. “You brought cash?”
“Uh yeah,” Angel pulled out the money Cordelia had given him and handed the wad to the hostess.
The woman took the cash and lifted one hand up into the air. A second later, a blue light enveloped her hand. She pulled it down and revealed a deep blue glass vial.
She smiled at Groo. “Make sure to tell your princess to drink it all at once.”
Groo took the bottle and the hostess looked coyly at Angel. “Did you find anything to your liking?”
Angel was surprised by the question and stared at her, ignoring the ringing of his cell phone.
Groo leaned closer and said, “Angel, your coat is singing.”
Angel cleared his throat and made a motion for her to hold on as he answered the phone. “Hello? What? Gunn?” He turned away from Groo and the hostess. “I can barely hear you. Where are you? Under Plummer Park? What are you . . . have you called Wesley yet? I don’t understand. Bother him? Why would you bother him? Oh. Uh huh. Ah-huh.” Angel turned and held the phone out to Groo with a tight smile. “Uhm, it’s for you.”
**************************
Los Angeles, Hyperion Hotel, Later
Fred and Gunn walked in holding Groo up until they could sit him down on the round settee. Cordelia ran around the reception desk as soon as she saw her boyfriend. She didn’t even see Angel trudge in and lean heavily against the desk. As Fred and Gunn went into the manager’s office to report to Wesley, Spike came out of the kitchen with a glass of blood he had just warmed up for himself. Without thinking, Angel took it from him and drank nearly the whole glass before handing it back.
Spike stared at him and then at the three-quarters empty glass, annoyed. “Hey! Damn it, you can bloody well get your own!” He sighed and set the glass on the counter then saw his mate’s appearance. “What the hell happened to you? Where’d your shirt go?”
“Long story,” Angel grumbled. He winced when Cordelia ripped Groo’s borrowed shirt open, scattering buttons on the floor.
“Sorry,” Cordelia apologized more to Groo than Angel.
Thinking she was talking to him, Angel replied, “That’s okay. It, ah, was already ruined.”
As she saw to Groo’s wounds, Cordelia replied absently, “If it’s any consolation, I planned to rip it off him later anyway.” Her head whipped around and glared at Angel. “You did get the potion, didn’t you?”
Angel pulled out the slightly dented flask and held it up. “We got it.”
“Well, this isn’t so bad. You heal almost as fast as he does,” Cordelia commented, continuing to play doctor.
“Princess, I – I have a confession to make,” Groo said gravely.
“Groo,” Angel said in a loud whisper. When Groo glanced at him, Angel shook his head at him.
Cordelia pulled Groo’s face back to look at her. “A confession? What – what confession? Did something happen at the brothel?” She glared at Angel. “You were supposed to look after him!”
“I wouldn’t say Groo was the one that needed to be watched,” Spike commented to himself. It seemed that Angel had a go around with a few demons, if the pheromones were anything to go by.
Angel quickly glanced at his mate. He should have known Spike would smell the five demonesses that had waylaid him in the brothel. He’d have to defend his actions to Spike later, for now he had Cordelia to contend with. “Nothing happened! Except your – boyfriend here was very brave, and . . . saved the day.” Why did it have to sound like he choked on that last line?
Cordelia smiled in awe at Groo. “You did?” She slapped his shoulder. “You big hero!”
Groo shook his head erratically. “No! I was reckless! I put everyone in grave peril! Angel is the true champion. He saved us all.”
“Did you hear that?” Cordelia asked no one in particular.
“Yeah, but . . .” Angel started to say, casually brushing off the coming praise.
“How many guys would just give away the credit like that? That is just so noble.” Suddenly her hand shot out. “The potion . . . now!”
When Angel held it out, Cordelia snatched it then grabbed Groo by his ruined shirt and yanked him up off the settee.
“Let’s get out of here! See ya!” Cordelia threw over her shoulder as she rushed to leave the hotel with Groo.
“Cordelia?” Angel called after her.
His voice stopped Cordelia in her tracks. She turned and looked back at him. When he only stood there, Cordelia pulled away from Groo and walked back to him.
“What is it?” Cordelia asked quietly.
Angel took one of her hands and put a roll of dollar bills in her palm.
“What is this?”
“It’s some money I had saved up,” he replied.
“I don’t understand,” Cordelia said as she glanced between him and the money.
“I did something for you tonight. Now I want you to do something for me. Don’t come in tomorrow. In fact, don’t come in for a couple of weeks. Take Groo some place . . . nice. Somewhere where there is sun. He’d like that.”
“Angel . . .”
“Promise me,” Angel insisted.
Cordelia started to shake her head at the idea, looking down at the money. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I am.”
She turned to leave but then pivoted again. She reached out and touched the hole in Angel’s t-shirt where the tree-demon’s tentacle went into his heart.
“Are you sure you don’t need patching up yourself?” she asked.
Angel looked down at her hand over his chest. “No, I’m good. It didn’t hurt a bit.”
Cordelia looked skeptical for a moment, then turned and walked out of the hotel with Groo. As soon as the door closed, Wesley stepped out of his office. Angel looked at him, and then tugged on Spike’s sleeve before heading up the stairs. Spike drank the rest of the blood, set the glass down on the counter and followed his Sire up the stairs.
**************************
Hyperion Hotel, Angel’s Suite
Angel groaned as he walked into his bedroom and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Spike shut the door behind him and kicked off his shoes before he crouched down to tug Angel’s shoes off. The dark vampire fell back on the bed with another groan of pain, allowing Spike to remove his shoes and socks.
That accomplished, Spike climbed up on the bed and pulled Angel back up to a sitting position while he removed the coat and tossed it aside. Angel fell back on the bed again as Spike went to work on opening his jeans and pulling his torn shirt up.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened tonight?” Spike asked as he inspected the slowly healing wound.
“Went to the brothel to get Cordelia’s potion,” Angel said.
“Uh-huh, and . . .?” Spike prompted.
“Got sidetracked by five demonesses,” Angel said tiredly. “They were pretty. Long dark hair . . . golden eyes . . . killer bodies. They stole my shirt. I’m lucky I got out of there with my jacket and my pants on.”
“Sounds like a real hardship, mate. Was it like hedonism?” Spike asked.
“They were massaging me. It felt really, really, really good,” Angel replied.
Spike leaned over him and whispered near his ear, “So, what I’m getting from you is that you were seduced by a massage that was really, really, really good.”
Angel slapped Spike’s ass half-heartedly for the mocking tone.
“What? You’re the one that said it,” Spike teased as he returned to his task. “Go on.”
“Anyway, Gunn called me to say he’d found that woman’s fiancé under Plummer Park,” Angel started to explain.
Spike raised a brow. “Under it?”
“Yeah, it was some kind of tree-demon that lured men through online personal ads and sucked them down. It used them like a battery. So, Gunn calls up and says that he and Fred were trapped under the Park by this thing and that they needed Groo to come and rescue them. Groo! Can you believe that? ‘M supposed to be the champion, Dark Avenger. They’re asking for him! We get down there and he goes charging in half-cocked. The demon let go of the woman’s fiancé and tapped into Groo. Idiot! And to make matters worse, the damn demon thought he was magnificent! Magnificently stupid is more like it. There he was with this beer tap in his chest and I’m walking around, you know?”
Spike nodded empathetically as he leaned down and licked the blood away from the edges of the wound.
“I’m getting really tired of the Groosalug worship around here. Everyone makes such a big deal about him. He’s emotionally available, can walk around in daylight. But you know what? I’ve lived to be two-hundred and forty-eight years old. I’m smarter, I’m stronger and I can pick out my own clothes!”
“I don’t know about that pet,” Spike murmured against Angel’s skin.
He moved lower and swirled his tongue around Angel’s nipple until it pebbled under his ministrations. There was a low rumble of a moan when Spike moved to lick and bite the other nipple until it hardened. As he teased the nipple, Spike slid his hand down to Angel’s hip and then slipped inside the open jeans to wrap around Angel’s cock. Angel groaned and rocked up into Spike’s fist.
“You know what you need, Angel,” Spike mumbled as he moved down Angel’s body. “You need a vacation.”
“Mmm,” Angel moaned as his body slowly arched against Spike’s mouth.
Spike kissed down Angel’s stomach, his navel and then wrapped his lips around the crown of Angel’s dick. The dark vampire let out a low growl when Spike’s tongue rubbed over the underside of the crown. Angel sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to thrust his shaft down Spike’s throat. He released a hissing breath when the mouth was suddenly gone.
“What do you say about it, Angel? Tomorrow night after you’ve healed a bit, we go rent a lodge in the woods and take a vacation. We can even take Gunn, Fred and Wesley, if they want to come with us.”
“Is now the best time to discuss this?” Angel asked in irritation. He wanted to return to the relaxed state brought on by what his mate was doing. “And, for future reference, never say ‘if they want to come with us’ again while I’m on my way to achieving what promised to be a very pleasant orgasm.”
Spike chuckled. He pulled Angel’s jeans down further, smirking when Angel sucked in a breath at the air hitting his sacs. He wrapped his fingers around the engorged length and resumed teasing the crown and underside with his tongue until he was sure that Angel was in a euphoric state. When he was sure Angel was lost to the sensation, Spike gently worked his fingers inside the pliant body. Angel shuddered when Spike’s fingers hit his pleasure point.
Spike slowly sucked down the length as he moved his fingers in and out, purposefully rubbing against the prostate. Angel languidly rocked his hips between Spike’s fingers and mouth, groaning his consent to his mate’s actions. He wasn’t oblivious to what Spike was initiating. Angel remembered what had occurred in the ballerina’s dressing room, most of it anyway. He remembered the pleasure of it even though the spirits had taken over his body. What Spike was doing now with his fingers didn’t feel threatening.
Angel made sure not to jar his injured side as he reached down with his good hand and laced his fingers in Spike’s hair to gently, but firmly, direct his boy’s movements. He made a mental note to repay the favor when he was healed.
It never mattered that they were on the outs when it came to this. They could be holding a grudge that extended for years and not talk to each other, but they were always drawn to each other and this. Nothing got in the way of this need for each other. Years and miles could separate them, but there was always a deep bond between them that went further than mere Sire/Childe, teacher/student. It was a bond that made him take the Sire-claim from Drusilla when Spike was a fledgling. It was the bond that made him renew it three years ago. No matter where they went, together or alone, they’d always be a part of each other. It was something beyond what he had with Buffy. And yet, he still managed to keep his soul intact with Spike.
Angel gasped when Spike’s throat started to swallow and the movement teased the tip of his erection. He tried to thrust deeper for the full sensation, but Spike’s hand around the base of his cock stopped him. It was contradictory to the fingers pressing on his prostate causing the need to shove his dick down Spike’s throat.
“Fuck, Spike,” Angel growled. He let out a cry of disappointment when the motion stopped and Spike’s head came up.
“So, about that vacation, are you up for it?” The amusement in Spike’s voice could be heard through the roar in Angel’s ears.
Angel slammed his fists against the mattress and growled in frustration at having his orgasm thwarted again for another question. Spike wasn’t going to give up on this vacation idea. He was holding Angel’s ever-elusive orgasm hostage for it. The way it was going he’d never get to cum.
“Fine, we’ll go! Now finish me off, please,” Angel stressed as he thrust his hips in the air towards Spike’s grinning face.
“Well, since you begged so nicely,” Spike smirked.
“I don’t beg,” Angel said gruffly.
Spike shrugged and resumed teasing Angel’s prostate while he sucked around the head until Angel let out a deep, rumbling growl with his release. Spike tried to swallow as much as he could while Angel was still bucking with the force of his orgasm.
When it was finally over, Spike pulled away. “Been a while since you had a decent orgasm, pet?”
“Just wait ’til I’m healed,” Angel threatened without conviction.
**************************
Hyperion Hotel, an hour later
Wesley sat at the desk in the manager’s office translating his new book when Angel came down to get a mug of blood to help in the healing process. Angel had left Spike upstairs flipping through TV channels. On his way back from the kitchen with mug in hand, Angel stopped in the doorway.
“You’re still here?”
Wesley’s head shot up at the voice. “Oh, Angel, you startled me. Yes, I’m just finishing this translation before I call it a night. Was there something you wanted?”
“No, not really,” Angel replied as he took a drink. “Spike suggested we take a vacation. Maybe take Gunn and Fred with us. Would you like to go?”
“Uh, I don’t know. With Cordelia gone and you apparently, someone has to be here to watch out for Wolfram & Hart. And I have all this translation left to do on two other books . . .” Wesley trailed off.
“Yeah, okay. Well, I guess it’ll just be me and Spike and Gunn and Fred if they want to go,” Angel shrugged.
“Yes, I suppose it will,” Wesley said.
“Night, Wes.”
“Night.”
When Angel left the room, Wesley looked down at the notebook and the words he’d translated so far:
‘The champion will fall from grace.’
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