Acceptable Losses: Chapter 1 of ?
Title: Acceptable Losses
Author: fenderlove
Pairing: Spike/Angel
Rating: PG-13 for some saucy action and sassy language.
Summary: Spike and Angel are making a go of it after returning from Hell in Angel: After the Fall. Unfortunately, being a single vampire dad living with your pain-in-the-ass boyfriend and Journalism major son makes Hell seem almost preferable.
A/N: This was supposed to be my submission for xmas_n_july, but I didn't get it completed in time. This is also my first full-length Spike/Angel fanfic.



Acceptable Losses
Chapter One: Step-Monster.

The best way to spend a lazy Saturday afternoon was cuddling on the couch with your boyfriend, especially if your boyfriend is a big, brooding grump with a Cro-Magnon forehead that you can annoy to your unbeating heart’s content. Spike straddled Angel’s lap, nuzzling along his jaw, desperately trying to distract the older vampire from whatever raincloud was hanging over his enormous head.

“Come on,” Spike pleaded with more than a little whine in his tone, “You’ve got a lap covered with adorable me, and you’d still rather be mentally cataloging all your evil deeds? Can’t you just think of all the evil deeds you could be doing to me right now?” Spike gave a sexy little hip-wriggle as he tossed his black tank top to the floor.

Angel gave a very put-on sigh, placing his large hands on Spike’s waist, letting his thumbs rub circles over the smaller man’s prominent hipbones, “I am in a mood. I thought we agreed that if I was in a mood that you wouldn’t try to unnecessarily try to pull me out of it.”

“You proposed an agreement, which I never responded to,” Spike replied, insistently attempting to unbutton Angel’s shirt. "Well, unless you count me snogging your brains out as an affirmative response."

“Why are you acting like such a brat?” Angel admonished, smacking the blonde vampire’s hands away.

Spike’s lower lip jutted out in a very cute pout as he gave a little discontent bounce on Angel’s lap, “’Cause I’m a hot bit of pretty bed-full, and you’re not giving me the proper attention.”

Giving a sharp slap to Spike’s backside, Angel growled, “Is that the kind of attention you want?”

“What if it is?” Spike said teasingly, leaning closer and brushing his lips over Angel’s. They crashed into a kiss, complete with the rending of clothes, clawing at flesh, and gasps of ecstasy.

“Hey, dad, I got the new flyers- Oh, sick!” Connor stood in the doorway of the apartment with a look of disgust on his face, keys in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. “You guys promised you weren’t going to do that outside of your bedroom anymore!”

Angel embarrassedly shoved Spike off his lap and began to button up his shirt. With a little irritated huff through his nose, Spike went over to where his tank top lay on the floor and picked up, making no move to put it back on.

“You’re right, Connor. Sorry,” Angel rubbed his hand over his face, feeling a migraine coming on.

“You ought to be after what happened last time!” Connor groused, shrugging his backpack off his shoulder and kicking the front door closed.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, are you still pissed over that? Grow up!” Spike sauntered into the kitchen, his still-unbuttoned jeans barely hanging onto his hips.

A few weeks prior Connor had brought over a female friend who he had been interested in dating to the apartment for a study session. The first sight she saw upon entering the living room was Angel and Spike engaged in some very X-rated activities. Connor quickly escorted the young woman into the office and away from the two vampires struggling to get their clothes on. Needless to say that very little studying was accomplished as Connor was extremely uncomfortable and his friend seemed to be in a state of shock. As he was showing her home, a spark of hope flourished when she said she would like to come over to study again. That hope was quickly dashed when she asked if Connor’s “dads” would be home as well.

“Grow up?” Connor snapped, dropping the stack of papers on the coffee table. “You’re the ones who act like horny teenagers! It’s bad enough I have to listen to you both every night! At least keep it in the bedroom!”

Spike rolled his eyes as he opened the fridge and removed a beer, “Oh, please. We’re not that loud.”

Connor did a fair recitation of Spike’s accent and the noises he made during the throes of passion, "Oh, yeah, daddy! Just like that! Harder! Harder! Sonofa- OW! Not that hard, you ponce! That's m' arse, not a bleedin' pincushion!"

Colour rose into Spike’s face as Angel’s turned ashen. “I don’t sound anything like that!” Spike asserted. “Angel, tell him that I don’t sound like that.” When Angel made no move to rebuff Connor’s claims, Spike added, “You’re both jerks.”

“You’re a jerk!” Connor responded. It was childish, yes, but he had not slept properly since Spike had moved in the apartment, so he was not in the disposition to be mature.

Spike popped the cap off his beer and fired back with a smirk, “At least I’m not my own grandpa.”

“Asshole.”

“Hippie.”

“Bastard.”

“That would be you.”

“Cocksucker."

“The best,” Spike leered, tonguing the rim of the beer bottle.

“Hardly,” Angel said under his breath.

Suddenly, an apple sailed through the air with tremendous speed by way of the kitchen. It broke apart upon impact with Angel’s temple. The brunette vampire sat on the couch a bit stunned for a moment before shooting a glare at Spike. Spike took another apple from the fruit bowl in hand ready to lob it in Angel's direction.

Connor took the uneasy silence as a chance to stomp off to his room, slamming the door shut.

“You always have to bait him, don’t you?” Angel frowned, swiping chucks of apple out of his hair.

“I’m just teasing him. He knows I don’t mean it,” Spike replied, looking at the apple he was holding. He started to put it back in the bowl, but settled on taking a bite and then putting it back in the bowl instead. Grabbing another beer, he went to sit beside Angel on the couch. Offering him the extra beer, Spike leaned over to playfully kiss the spot where the apple had connected with Angel’s head.

“He’s lonely. I think that's why he's so edgy all the time,” Angel said, twisting the bottle cap off and tossing it on the coffee table.

Spike took his turn to sigh heavily, "Happens to the best of us, mate. Cheers."

Angel nodded, reaching down and picked up one of the flyers Connor had had printed. It read:

Plagued by pesky poltergeists?

Vexed by villainous vampires?

Discontented with devious demons?

Call: Angel Investigations

555-153-7475

“Vexed by villainous vampires?’” Spike mused. “And this is why you don’t let your English major son write your advertisements.”

“He’s majoring in Journalism,” Angel corrected.

As Angel looked at the flyer, familiar feelings of doubt crept over him. Was he really ready, after all that had happened, to start investigating the paranormal again? Angel had directly caused all of L.A. to be sucked into Hell for months, even though in reality it had only lasted for a millisecond of time. He had lost Connor again and had even died himself. How many times could he gain it all back before his luck ran out, before the Powers stopped caring?

Angel felt a sharp poke to the sore spot where he’d been struck by the apple.

“I’m not going to tell you to stop brooding again,” Spike said, sounding annoyed.

Angel grabbed the offending finger that was poking him and wrenched it back, not enough to break it but enough to be painful, “Let’s get one thing clear- you are not the top in this train wreck, baby.”

“Don’t try to sugar-coat it on my account, Angel,” Spike replied with a naughty little rumble in his voice.