“Bloody hell, you tosser. It’s 3pm. How’s a bloke supposed to get his beauty sleep with you banging on the door?”
Despite the harsh words, Spike stood to one side allowing Angel past and into the apartment, closing the door behind him. The older vampire watched in appreciative silence as his shirtless, sleep tousled Childe hunted through his pockets eventually coming up with a battered packet of cigarettes and a lighter.
“I didn’t think you were smoking indoors anymore?”
“That was before some stupid sod woke me up.” After a long drag and a quick scrubbing of hands through his hair, Spike continued. “Actually the Watcher doesn’t mind if I have the odd one or two when he isn’t here.”
They stood in silence, the one waking up, the other trying to remember why he was there. A couple of awkward minutes passed then Angel spoke.
“So, umm. How are you?”
“Same as I was when we parted company this morning. Maybe a little more tired but then I was trying to get some sleep.”
“Good.” Silence again, this time longer than before. Angel was staring, he knew he was staring but somehow couldn’t bring himself to do what he had come here to do and…Did Spike just say something?
“Huh?”
“I said, are you gonna stand there all day just admiring the goods or are you gonna do something with them?”
This was it. This was his cue to tell Spike it was over. Just open your mouth and say it. It’s over. We can’t see each other any more. Then back to the hotel and into Cordy’s arms. Beautiful, beautiful Cordy. The woman he loved, his soul-mate, with her soft warmth and welcoming body.
Inside him the uncoiling continued and Angel suddenly recognised it for what it was. Angelus was disturbed. Unhappy at the idea of being kept from his boy, his Childe, the demon was starting to flex his mental muscles, and Angel’s mind which until now had been filled with Cordelia, was suddenly swamped with images of Spike/William, beaten, bleeding, bloody and begging. Maybe he should kiss Spike first, so it didn’t sound as harsh. Good idea Angel, kiss the boy you abandoned a hundred years ago then do it again.
Spike watched Angel closely as the expressions moved slowly across his face. There was obviously something going on and he was nervous about what that might be. The look on his Sire’s face when he’d entered the apartment had been eerily similar to the Buffy’s the day she’d come to his crypt to end their relationship. His relief when Angel suddenly looked up with a smirk plastered across his face was only slightly tempered by the gold flecks in the older vampire’s eyes. Guess the old man’s come round for another session, then.
He was moving before the words could be articulated and made it to the bed moments before Angel, managing to avoid the heavier weight of his Sire as he landed behind him. It was a temporary escape and Angel soon had him pinned to the pillows reclaiming the mouth he had left only hours before.
As tongues duelled for domination, Angel fought for control. He was willing to accede to Angelus’ demand for a farewell fuck but he wouldn’t let him escape completely, there was too much at stake. Not the least was Wesley’s bed and concealing their activities from the Watcher, it would be difficult to explain away ripped, bloodstained sheets. He battered Angelus back down, subconsciously making a deal with his demon that he could come along for the ride so long as he didn’t try to gain the upper hand. That dealt with, Angel felt free to continue and all thoughts of Cordelia rapidly vanished.
Spike was also fighting for control but of a different kind. Memories of Angelus’ brutal reclaiming were warring with those of their more recent encounters where he had been the dominant party. He hadn’t bottomed for Angel and that seemed to be what his Sire needed right now, and Spike wasn’t certain he could do it, wasn’t certain he was capable of giving up that much control. There were trust issues involved; primarily that he didn’t trust Angelus not to hurt him.
Using all the mental and physical strength he could muster he pushed Angel away and, having released his arms, caught Angel’s face in his hands staring deeply into his eyes.
“Angel?” They were pure brown, not a fleck of gold to be seen. Maybe it had been an illusion.
“He’s gone, Spike.”
The concerned look subsided with the words and Angel gave his demon a quick kick to illustrate the point. See he’s scared of you. Angelus tried for an outright attack, roaring his satisfaction at his Childe’s fear, but Angel was ready for him and turned him aside, reminding the demon of the deal. Yes, he’s yours but I won’t let you hurt him. In an effort to be reassuring, Angel rolled over and gave up control, mimicking his behaviour from the last time they’d shared a bed rather than an alley wall or the backseat of his car.
He put his hands above his head, clasping them together and gave a wry smile. “I’m all yours, Will.”
Swallowing the last of his nervousness - was this how Buffy had felt after he’d attacked her? Spike turned to more pleasurable thoughts, like undressing the sumptuous feast laid out before him. Shoes first then. He shifted down the bed and grabbed one foot, easily divesting it of its coverings, leaving him with a satisfactorily naked appendage, which just had to be kissed, licked and generally consumed.
By the time he was ready to move on to the next one, Angel was already whimpering slightly and had his eyes squeezed shut. He presented such an endearing picture that Spike’s patience went out of the window, he wanted this big hunk of demon naked, right now. The other shoe and sock flew across the room, narrowly avoiding a picture hung on the wall and he prowled back up the bed until he was straddling Angel’s thighs, the perfect position to continue unwrapping his pressie.
A few quick movements made short work of the buttons on Angel’s shirt and Spike slid his hands under the soft cloth exposing softer skin beneath. He was so glad he’d persuaded Angel to stop wearing so many layers when they were together, it just got annoying. Running his hands slowly over Angel’s chest he swooped down capturing one nipple between his teeth, gently nibbling then laving it firmly with his tongue.
When Angel started to indicate that his attentions to a single nipple were becoming too much, Spike moved on to the other, again continuing until it pebbled to a hard nub in his mouth, and Angel was making his opinions known by insistently pushing his confined erection into his stomach. Raising up on his knees so that Angel could no longer rub against him, Spike dotted wet open mouthed kisses across his Sire’s chest and on up his neck, sucking in an earlobe just as his fingers found and unzipped Angel’s trousers. It was enough to break Angel’s resolve; he wrapped his arms round Spike’s back and yanked him close for a deep kiss, which was returned with boundless enthusiasm.
Pressing tightly together they plundered each other’s mouths and bodies, allowing the waves of pleasure to rush through them as they ground their cocks together through denim and cotton, their actions becoming increasingly urgent as the minutes sped past. Angel hardly noticed when Spike pulled out of the kiss, panting and cursing under his breath as his orgasm started to build, he simply reached down and clamped his Childe’s jean clad buttocks tightly to him, thrusting up and getting lost in the sensations he was causing. When Spike shuddered against him, his climax wrenched from him by his Sire’s actions, Angel rolled them over desperately shoving their clothing out of the way as he fought to gain access to his Childe’s body. Gentleness forgotten in the heat of the moment, Angel used the cool semen as a perfunctory lubricant before pushing Spike’s knees up to his chest and sinking deeply into his body with a loud groan.
And in that moment of weakness Angelus took control, showing Angel how much better he could love his boy, with his infinitely greater knowledge and experience. The demon’s persuasive tongue was impossible to resist, like he said, Angel had never been in this position with his Childe, and couldn’t possibly understand what Spike needed. Within moments it was Angel’s turn to be along for the ride, unable to sustain anything but the most tenuous of contact with his body.
Angelus had learned enough from being a backseat passenger not to completely fuck up this intense reunion. His occupation of Angel’s consciousness was temporary and he desperately wanted it to happen again, so he accessed Angel’s memories for facial expressions and actions that would convince William that it was his soul-ed lover inside him.
Spike felt Angel’s body tense fractionally and, when he looked up into Angel’s familiar smile and dark eyes, put it down to his Sire needing to prevent his impending orgasm. He grinned back, grabbed Angel’s hand and placed a kiss onto the palm, seeking to encourage without intimidating; it was as much Angel’s first time as his. That slightly awkward moment overcome, Spike gasped and arched up when Angel’s initial deep thrust hit his prostate bang on; maybe he didn’t need any tips after all.
“Jesus, Angel, again. Just there…fuck.”
“That was the general idea.”
Yes, Angelus could do this. He liked control and he’d seen that there were ways of asserting it that went beyond pain. If he fucked his boy the way Angel did the human girl, with consideration and skill, then Spike would be as much his as from a well-placed punch or bite and he wanted his Childe back. He pulled out until only the head of his cock was contained then plunged back in to the hilt, setting a relentless pace that quickly had Spike thrashing and incoherent under him.
The best of both worlds, it was like Angelus, only better, without the fear that everything would be taken away at the last moment. With Angel, Spike could give over entirely to the pleasure and become unguarded in his enjoyment. Under his Sire’s skilful assault he was soon desperate to come again, and didn’t hesitate in grabbing and working himself in time with Angel’s thrusts. When another hand joined his own then superseded it, he threw his head back into the pillow and bucked up matching him movement for movement, using his hands and heels to encourage his lover deeper and harder. The fingers clamping round the base of his cock were a surprise, but Angel hadn’t been averse to games before and he rode it out, focussing on bringing Angel off as quickly as possible.
To that end he bore down, using his powerful internal muscles to try and push Angel out, and succeeded on allowing him further in, eliciting a strangled growl from his Sire. On the downside, Angel was now completely missing his prostate but, Spike thought somewhat haphazardly, his insides were being very pleasurably rearranged. That and the lack of friction on his erection had the effect of centring every sensation on his ass, educing an entirely different experience to what he was used to. His anus burned from the friction, and a delicious ache started way inside as if his bowels were contracting. As the feeling grew Spike found he could no longer move, his legs felt like numb weights attached to his hips, his shoulders and back simply appendages to his ass, his arms and hands limp against the bed. His complete being was the feel of Angel inside him, constantly moving, driving, pounding until with a scream, Spike arched off the bed, the waves of climax crashing through him as his anus clamped down. Angel immediately released his tight grip on his Childe’s cock, allowing the internal orgasm to realise through the most powerful ejaculation Spike had ever experienced.
Angelus handed control back to Angel just as he came, foregoing the gratification in favour of a repeat performance, and pointing out that Angel had never managed to make Spike pass out. The tears on Angel’s cheeks as he looked down at his lover’s still body were as much from regret as fear. How could he deny Angelus again when the demon had the ability to bring such pleasure?
He withdrew carefully and lay on his back, listening as Spike started to breathe again, then suddenly groaned. Angel leaned on one elbow and gazed down until somewhat glazed blue eyes opened and stared back.
“You okay?”
“Fuck.”
“Coherent then.” Unable to resist Angel reached out and ran one finger down Spike’s chest, eliciting a deep shudder and whimper, then his hand was batted away.
“Too much?”
“Ahah.”
“Cigarette?”
“Yeah.” Language was starting to come back to him but a fag would help no end. When Angel handed it over, thankfully already lit, Spike took it in slightly shaky hands and proceeded to smoke it in silence, glaring at the ceiling.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“No thoughts. Lights on, no one home, mate.”
“That good?”
“That good.”
Angel’s heart fell again. Angelus had reduced Spike to silence, something he had never managed to achieve. His fragile self esteem crumbled, amply aided by Angelus’ self satisfied crowing, and he sat up looking around for his clothes, aiming to leave and find somewhere quiet to lick his wounds. When he moved Spike grabbed his arm to prevent him getting up.
“Much as that was fun…fucking brilliant actually. It wasn’t what you came for. You gonna tell me or do I have to seduce you again.”
It was an impossible situation. How could he end this thing with Spike now? But he had to say something; Spike wouldn’t let him ago until his curiosity at Angel’s sudden appearance was assuaged.
“There was a double murder last night. The man we were supposed to be watching and his mistress.”
Spike immediately sat up, his face reflecting concern for what had happened. “How? I mean, I know we were busy, but I would swear that no one went in or out of the door all night.”
“Their necks were broken. The bodies were found this morning when the maid let herself in. The police called Cordy when Mrs. Arita told them we were watching her husband. I’ll have to go give a statement.”
With a frown Spike reached out again and clasped Angel’s hand. “Do you want me to come too? I know we can’t tell Cordelia but…”
“No. I don’t want you involved at all. I still have enough contacts in the department and there won’t be any evidence in the room that points to me, so there’s no reason to think I’ll be a suspect.”
“You sure?”
Biting back a surge of irritation, Angel snapped, “Spike, if you come with me then it will get back to Cordy. I don’t know how but it will and I have too much to lose for that to happen.” He was too caught up in his own worries to see the pain that skated across Spike’s face at the words and carried on collecting his clothes and dressing.
“I just came by to let you know that I can’t take you with me on those sorts of jobs again. It’s not fair. The clients pay us and expect our complete concentration and I can’t do that when you’re with me.”
It was the consolation prize really but it was enough to put a patch over the hole Angel had just poked in his heart. Spike summoned up a cheeky grin and answered. “I reckon I’ll be having problems concentrating after that little performance, love.”
Angel turned away not wanting his Childe to see the tears that were threatening to fall. “I’ll call you, okay?”
“Sure. I…I miss you, Angel.”
“Yeah, I know.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
December 18th 2002
Fred guiltily stuffed the brochure under the telephone when she saw Cordy start back down the stairs into the lobby. Gunn was convinced and in less than a week, while they were taking their much-needed Christmas vacation in Texas, she’d talk him in to staying there, her father was already sorting out a job, something that paid better and more regularly than Angel Investigations currently did. But the rest of the gang still didn’t know and she didn’t think this was a good time to share.
“What did he say?”
Cordy slumped onto a stool, concern for her lover showing on her face. “He says nothing’s wrong but he’s a big liar. It’s like he’s depressed or something, which I can totally understand, what with the murders and the total lack of work, but if he won’t talk about it I don’t see what we can do.”
“We gonna get fired again? ‘Cos I seem to remember that’s what happened last time he went off the deep end.” Gunn had joined them and he grabbed Fred’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as he sat down.
“That was obsession. This is depression, like brooding only,” Cordy paused searching for a way to explain, “more so.” She finished brightly.
The vampire hunter grumbled out his reply. “Yeah, well, whatever it is I wish he’d get the stick out of his ass and start talking. I’m starting to get a bad feeling and this time I ain’t hanging around to see if he does fire us, Fred and me have got plans and they don’t include some dumb ass vampire. ”
“Plans?” There were times when it was easy to forget that Cordy was completely human again, her eyes burned into the couple as they exchanged a shifty glance.
“My parents have asked us to go stay with them for a couple of weeks over Christmas. I’ve not seen them in like forever and there’s not much work, and so I thought this would be a real good time to go. If you don’t mind, I mean we can always stay if you need us and…”
Cordy patted her hand, interrupting the confused babbling mid-flow. “Fred, if you and Gunn want to get away for a while that’s fine. We can manage; between Angel, Wesley, and I there’s not a lot we can’t handle. You two go and have a great time.”
“I’m going out.”
They looked round just in time to watch Angel’s retreating back as he left the hotel without another word.
“You sure about that, girl?”
With a sad sigh, Cordy dragged her eyes away from the empty space that used to contain her lover. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
January 10th 2003
“How many now?”
Wesley looked up from the notes he was jotting down on a pad next to the telephone to meet Angel’s dark steady gaze.
“Five. One divorce case, two protection against a stalker, and a kid whose mother suspected of dealing drugs.”
“All the same M.O.?”
“Interestingly no. One shot, two stabbed, a bread knife and a Bowie knife, so no connection there, the couple who had their necks broken and the kid who was thrown off a building. I mean, they were all our clients and you were the one watching them when it happened, but apart from that they’re about as different as you can get.”
The expression on Angel’s face froze at Wesley’s words, his eyes going flat and cold and, as the Watcher reached out to hand him the notes, the vampire flinched away, pain flickering through him.
“Angel, please tell me what’s wrong? I know things are difficult but you need to talk about it. Hiding away didn’t help last time, did it?”
“No, it didn’t. Neither did it help when you failed to tell me about the prophecy and stole my son.”
As he spoke them Angel knew the words would cut Wesley to the bone, but he was hurting too much to be rational. The murders were crippling them, each time the agency’s details were appearing in the newspaper alongside the victims’ and new jobs were becoming scarce; no one wanted to be connected to a detective agency whose clients regularly got murdered. Fred and Gunn had returned from their break in Texas, but Gunn had immediately taken him to one side saying that they may leave again if things didn’t pick up soon. AI was hardly making enough money to cover the bills let alone support four humans and two vampires.
“The first one. Tell me again.” He didn’t really need the details, the night was inscribed on his brain as was the following day, and Angel was seriously starting to believe that the Powers were trying to tell him something. Specifically that he was allowing his relationship with Spike to get in the way of his work, why else would the first murder have happened when he was busy with his Childe. Maybe if he explained to Cordy now and then told Spike it was over, things would get better. Cutting Wesley off mid sentence he grabbed the notepad and set off up the stairs to face the music…Only to find himself down in the sewers halfway to Wesley’s house, again.
In the foulest of tempers - Cordy was what he needed not Spike - Angel set about cleaning the place up on his way back. Several vampires fell to his stake on the walk through the sewers but it did nothing to lift his mood. He needed to stop this thing with his Childe before it got out of hand, before Cordelia found out. And was that the only reason? As he scented the air and turned into a side tunnel to exterminate another of his fellow night-stalkers, Angel examined his conscience. Was it only Cordy finding out that really made him want to stop? What about his redemption, the human trappings in his life which the agency provided?
The vampire exploded into dust and as it dispersed Angel felt a familiar uncurling inside him, then Angelus purred slightly, suggesting that what Angel really needed, much more than Cordelia and her weak womanly charms, was his Childe. He needed to let go and relax, and the only one who could do that for him was Spike. ‘Or me’.
‘You? How?’
‘You need to rest. Take a time out. I can make you feel better, I promise. Let me in, give me control and you will feel so much better.’
‘No. I can’t trust you.’
‘Let me in, Angel. I didn’t hurt anyone last time, did I?’ The demon flooded Angel’s mind with a blow by blow replay of his, albeit limited, excursion; silky, seductive images that spoke of comfort and release from the day to day struggles that were plaguing his existence.
Maybe if Angel could have spoken to Cordelia and somehow got her to understand his relationship with Spike, or spoken to Fred, or Gunn, or even Faith about what was happening in his life, then Angelus’ words would have meant nothing. It was also possible that if Angel could have been honest with himself it would have helped. But the crucial factor was that after a hundred years of silence Angel had forgotten just how persuasive Angelus could be. It would be so easy to let go for a while, to stop feeling that deep-rooted despair, so similar to what he had felt when Darla had returned.
Family was everything to a vampire and yet the humans always conspired to keep him from them. It was so unfair. He wasn’t human, and even Cordy couldn’t understand that, despite her attempts. She couldn’t understand about blood calling to blood.
The faint sound of a human heartbeat came from further down the tunnel and Angel followed it.
*~*~*~*~*~*
January 13th 2003
He waited for two hours before finally accepting that Angel wasn’t going to show. Left at a loose end for the third night running Spike considered his options. Returning to Wesley’s place wasn’t on, the Watcher would be spark out and would only get annoyed if music or the television woke him. The Hotel certainly offered nothing in the way of entertainment unless he wanted to sit and listen to Angel and Cordy shagging all night. That left the bars, like he had visited last night and the one before when Angel had left him high and dry.
As he sorted through the loose change in his pocket trying to work out whether he had enough for another night of solitary drinking, Spike wondered whether it was finally over between them. If it was he wished Angel had had the courtesy to call and let him know.
*~*~*~*~*~*
January 20th 2003
Fred hesitated outside the suite, clutching the file to her chest. There was no one around except her and Angel and he wasn’t speaking to anyone, even Cordy but this was important, it needed to be dealt with and it couldn’t wait.
“Angel?”
Silence answered her, so she tried the door. It was unlocked so she pushed it open slightly and slipped in through the small gap. The room was in total darkness, not even a glimpse of light filtered through the curtains from the street lights outside which was unusual, Angel often opened the curtains and the windows at night flooding the room with yellow neon and traffic fumes. He’d claim it freshened the air for Cordelia, but Fred privately thought he would be better off buying a new conditioning unit.
“What do you want, Fred?” There was a shifting in the gloom and Fred eased the door open again just enough so that she could see the figure sat with its back to her in the chair.
“It’s happened again.” She paused, waiting for a response that never came. “You remember Ernie Madriaga? Wanted us to watch his manager ‘cos he thought he was stealing from the company. Nice man, one of Cordy’s paying clients…”
“How many?” Fred clutched the file tighter and closed her eyes, willing herself not to be scared. This was Angel, not Angelus. It couldn’t be Angelus; he was gone, forever. But those words had been growled not spoken.
“Umm…s-seven in two months.” All paying clients, all murdered by persons unknown just after they had signed up with the agency. It could have been coincidence but none of them really believed that any more, it was just that the alternative, that someone was deliberately trying to ruin Angel Investigations, was even less appealing and if it was true, the tactic was starting to work. New business enquiries were dwindling rapidly and although Fred was no expert, she was aware that they were in severe financial difficulties. They may be the champions for the Powers but, as Cordelia said, it was the divorce cases that paid them all and kept a roof over their heads
“How did he die?” It was no longer a growl but there was a purring quality to the voice which screeched across her nerves almost as badly.
“He…something tore…tell ya what, I’ll get Cordy to fill you in when she gets back.” She shot out of the door and slammed it shut behind her before running back downstairs just in time to greet Gunn as he entered the lobby.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
January 24th 2003
“You know I’d never had a human woman before Buffy, not like that anyway.” He chose not to mention his numerous rape victims certain that Wesley wouldn’t want those sorts of details.
They were sat, as they customarily did of an evening before Spike left to do whatever it was he did all night, in the Watcher’s apartment sharing whatever bottle Wesley had picked up on the way home, but unlike other evenings, this one had particular purpose. It was just over three months since Angelus had been banished for good and Spike’s new role as Seer for the LA gang had been revealed, and during that time Wesley had deliberately avoided digging through his houseguest’s psyche for the details of vampiric existence he was desperate to know.
As a Watcher, Wesley had been privy to more information than most civilians regarding vampires and their behaviours, but he regularly found himself frustrated at not knowing more. Out of necessity the Council focussed on things which would aid them in their campaign to annihilate the demons, so their insights into ‘Soul-ed vampires; their care and upkeep in your home’ were somewhat limited.
But now circumstance determined that he was better informed. He was worried about Angel, who was retreating further and further into himself again, brooding in darkened rooms and refusing to speak to people, even Cordelia didn’t know what was wrong. Everyone suspected it had something to do with the murders and their increasing money worries, but with Angel refusing to communicate it left the rest of them at something of a loose end. They continued to deal with whatever the visions threw up but there was precious little other work to be done, to the extent that Faith had decided to try her luck elsewhere and had moved down to San Diego. Fred and Gunn were still there but had started to put their affairs in order preparatory to leaving for a better job in Texas.
And there were still Spike’s nightmares to contend with. They had improved remarkably for a couple of months before returning full force, to such an extent that Wesley was now splitting his time between the office and home so he could keep an eye on Spike while he slept. It was a far from pleasant task which had the human’s hair standing on end as he listened to the keening wails that arose on an almost daily basis from his bed where the vampire slept while he studied in the living room.
If all that wasn’t disconcerting enough, Fred was continuously letting drop snippets of information about how Spike blamed himself, rather than his demon, for some of his atrocities and she was quite voluble in adding that maybe Angel was the same and that was what was wrong with him now. She’d even gone so far as to suggest it could be Angel himself committing the murders. Having no idea what either vampire had been like before he was turned, and not fancying the idea of sharing his home or workspace with a serial killer in remission, Wesley had asked about Buffy. A subject both vampires had in common and something close enough to the problem to form a jumping off point for a difficult conversation.
“Go on,” he encouraged when the vampire fell silent obviously consumed momentarily by memories. “You said you’d never slept with a human woman before Buffy.”
Eyes snapping back into focus, Spike continued. “Umm, yeah, Buffy. It was amazing, she was so…” He paused before adding defensively, “Bloody hell, what sort of stuff do you want to know here, Watcher? ‘Cos I’m not the sort to kiss and tell.”
“Just what you want to share. I don’t want to intrude.” He did. He wanted to strip Spike naked and spread him out so he could consume him meticulously piece by piece, psychologically of course. When the vampire continued the intensity in his eyes and voice took Wesley by surprise, although he’d always known Spike was obsessed with the Slayer, he hadn’t realised how deep that passion ran.
“Yeah, well, it was good. She’s such a powerful little thing, could knock seven bells out of me without raising a sweat most days and she did. Then she’d be all over me, all hot and tight with muscles like you’d never believe. All that strength and burning and she ended up as far inside me as I did in her, if you know what I mean. She consumed me from the inside out till there was nothing left except her, and me wanting her, craving her more than blood.”
“You told me you never tasted her blood?”
“Never even went game face on her, mate. Didn’t want her dusting me in a fit of pique. I might have been the best fuck-toy she’d ever had but she’s still the Slayer and a flash of fang at the wrong time and it would have all over for yours truly.”
Now maybe they were getting closer to the area Wesley wanted to explore, something Spike had touched on once before during one of his maudlin rambles. “Was that the only reason?”
Spike’s head shot up and he pierced Wesley with an interrogative glare. “You been talking about me behind my back? Exchanging nice little theories about the crazy vampire with Fred and Cordy.”
Immediately on the defensive, Wesley stuttered into an explanation. “No, it’s just, Fred has said some things, about how you are dangerous even with your soul and…Well, frankly if you’re going to continue living here with me I think I have the right to know.”
His words elicited a frown from the vampire as they were considered, and then he got more than the brush-off he’d been expecting.
“Maybe you’re right. No, I never bit her and it wasn’t just because she might have dusted me. Though that was a consideration. It was because half of me, my demon half I suppose, spent the entire time I was shagging her telling me to stop. It didn’t, still doesn’t, like the idea that I wanted her like that instead of killing her. So I kept him tucked away, under wraps.”
“You differentiated between yourself and your demon even before you got your soul?” Wesley could understand Angel discriminating between himself and Angelus, after all the soul and the demon had had over a hundred years in the same body, but the idea that a un-souled vampire could make the same distinction surprised him.
“Yeah. Look, I know what you Watchers are taught, that when the human dies the demon moves in and there’s nothing of the original person left excepting a few memories and a bit of personality, but it wasn’t like that, not for me any how.”
Making attentive noises Wesley refilled his own glass and offered the bottle to his companion. “ No, ta. If I’m going to talk about this, I’d better do it vaguely sober.”
The vampire settled back and put his feet up on the table pondering where to start. “How much do you know about me, about what I was like before I was turned?”
“Very little. It was always assumed you were some sort of street criminal. In fact for many years there was some doubt as to when exactly you were turned. Some theories had you dated as far back as late eighteenth century but that was of course…”
“Penn.” Spike interrupted then laughed. “Street criminal? Christ you don’t know anything do you. Doesn’t Angel ever say anything?”
“Surprisingly enough, Spike, you and your history were not a subject for general discussion during the everyday activities of Angel Investigations.”
“Still, I would have thought…Not much of a one for sharing then.”
“Angel rarely speaks of his past unless it is relevant to a specific case. In fact on many occasions I wish he had told us more, it would certainly have helped when Darla appeared on the scene.” And it would most definitely help now.
Spike muttered something that sounded distinctly like ‘Bitch’ into his drink before commenting slightly louder. “Bloody good shag though. Her roots in the oldest profession certainly never went to waste.”
“Yes, I knew she was a prostitute before the Master turned her but I don’t see how that is relevant.”
“That’s the whole point. She was pretty much the same after she was turned as she was before.”
Starting to feel distinctly uncomfortable Wesley had to ask, “So you were a psychopathic killer before you were turned?”
“No mate. I was a trainee Watcher.”