Subject: [SpikesSalvation] New Fic: Phoenix Tears (1/?)
Date: Fri, 26 Dec 2003 12:09:32 -0800 (PST)
From: Jerusha Hancock <enigmaticblue@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com
To: SpikesSalvation@yahoogroups.com


Title: Phoenix Tears

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: BtVS "Chosen" Sequel to Phoenix Dreams

Summary: A new prophecy threatens the gang at W&H as they deal with their 
grown-up lives. (Long series)

Archive: The Sandlot and the Crypt. Anywhere else, just ask.

A/N: You might want to read Phoenix Dreams first, since this story pretty much 
assumes you know what's been going on up to this point. Also, this is an actual 
WIP. I haven't finished it yet. So updates will be made as quickly as possible, 
but not with my usual regularity.


Chapter 1: Defining a Life

Spike resolutely kept his eyes on the paperwork in front of him, refusing to 
look up. "Please, Will."

"Emmie—" he warned. 'Don't look up,' he told himself silently. 'Beware the 
eyes.' He was a tough guy, and he still retained most of the characteristics of 
the Big Bad. There wasn't much on the planet that phased him; he'd already died 
after all. But as Dawn had often accused him, he was a softie when it came to 
certain people, and he would do anything for any one of "his" girls.

"Please." The naked pain in her tone had him looking up to meet her big brown 
eyes, and he was lost. Spike sighed. The puppy-dog eyes had won again.

"Look, pet," he said patiently. "I can't always step in when you and Angel have 
a disagreement. It's not healthy."

Emmie knew she'd won. He was definitely caving. "It's not so much a 
disagreement as much as it is that he just won't talk to me. Angel's been 
brooding non-stop for the last two weeks, and he's driving everyone, including 
me, crazy." She plopped down in the chair across from him. "I just don't know 
what to do," she confessed. "I could threaten to leave, but..."

"But you don't want to have to carry out the threat," Spike finished for her. 
He had definitely been there. And Emmie was right, Angel had been brooding for 
the last two weeks, which meant he was functional, but not much fun to be 
around. To be fair, she wasn't the first person who had asked him to have a 
word with the boss. Gunn had been in earlier that morning, and he was fully 
expecting Wesley to come by later in the afternoon. Even Ty had said yesterday 
that someone needed to pull his uncle's head out of his arse. Spike had 
disciplined him for his language, but had to agree with his son. He just didn't 
see why he had to be the one to do it.

As though she'd read his mind, Emmie continued. "It's just that you and Angel 
are close, Will. Maybe not like best friends or anything, but you understand 
him better than the rest of us can. And you're the only one with a prayer of 
beating some sense into that thick head of his."

"I think Buffy would argue with that," Spike disagreed mildly. "I'll talk to 
him, Emmie. But I'm serious. I can't step in every time you two have a hard 
time communicating. You're going to have to learn how to talk to each other."

"We do talk," she protested. "But we're coming up on our two year anniversary, 
and I'm just worried—"

"He's not thinkin' of leavin' you, luv," Spike said instantly. "Peaches is 
still head over heels, trust me. I'll figure it out, or at least get him to 
talk to you."

"Thanks," the young Slayer said gratefully. "I'll owe you one."

"You'll owe me several," he called after her as she dashed out of the room. He 
sighed again. He'd never liked confronting the great poof when he was being 
especially poofish. Getting Angel out of a bad mood typically involved pain on 
someone's part, but he hated to see Emmie miserable. And much like his own 
Slayer, she was particularly vulnerable when it came to relationships, having 
had so few good ones in the past.

"Hey." Spike looked up to see Buffy standing in the doorway, smiling at him.

"'ey, yourself, luv," he said, coming from around his desk to greet her with a 
thorough kiss.

When she finally pulled back from him, there was a slightly glazed look to her 
eyes. "Mmm. I should leave more often."

"Absolutely not," he said, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. "Miss you too 
much."

"Well, that goes for me too," she replied, wrapping her arms around his waist 
and resting her head on his shoulder. "Unfortunately, duty sometimes calls me 
away. I think you should come with me next time, though. Think about how much 
fun we could have in Europe."

"And all the things I could teach the Council," he teased.

Buffy smirked. "I'd love to see the looks on their faces. Some of them would 
flip to meet the former William the Bloody."

"What do you mean, 'former?'" he said in mock protest. "'m still the scourge of 
L.A., you know."

"That's right. You're so scary you couldn't tell Emmie that you weren't going 
to get involved," Buffy replied in amusement.

Spike sighed. "You heard that, did you?"

"Ran into her in the hall," the Slayer admitted. "Spike, I thought we talked 
about the whole non-involvement thing. Healthy relationships, etc."

He shook his head. "Emmie wasn't the only one up here today, pet," he stated. 
"Gunn's been after me to talk to him too, and even Ty's noticed his mood. To be 
honest, 'm about that close to bangin' his head into the wall till he gets some 
sense knocked into him."

Buffy frowned. "He hasn't gotten any better in the last week?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Worse, actually."

She paused for a minute and then conceded. "You'd probably better talk to him 
then," she admitted. "It's not just a lover's quarrel at this point."

"Why me?" he demanded.

"Because it's your duty as his second-in-command. And he's family."

It was logical. Spike hated logical. "Bugger family," he muttered.

Wesley stuck his head inside Spike's door. "Do you have a minute, William?"

"Sure, come on in," the former vampire said, resigning himself to the fact that 
he wasn't going to have any peace at all until he talked with their boss.

"I've been wanting to ask if you would talk to Angel," Wes said without 
preamble, sitting down across from him. "I tried talking to him myself the 
other day and got nowhere."

Spike grimaced. "Was plannin' on talkin' to him tonight, maybe askin' him to go 
out hunting or something." He glared at his friend. "You do understand the 
sacrifice this is, don't you? Buffy just got back today."

Wesley winced. "Quite. It's just that—"

"Say no more," Spike said. "You're the third person who's asked me to say 
something to him today."

"Do you think it's something I've done?" Wesley asked quietly.

Spike looked surprised. Wesley was almost always the most self-assured one of 
the bunch anymore, though he'd heard stories of a time when that hadn't been 
the case. "What on earth would that have been?"

"It's just that the beginning of his depression coincides with our—mine and 
Fred's—announcement. It seems a little too much of a coincidence." Wesley 
looked worried, and Spike sat back in his chair thoughtfully. The other man was 
right, now that he thought about it, and it was a better explanation than the 
others he'd considered.

"Angel's happy for the both of you," Spike assured him. "An' the rest of us are 
all lookin' forward to havin' another little one runnin' around the place. But—"

"But it may have reminded Angel of what he can't have," Wes said heavily, 
pulling off his glasses and running a hand over his face. "Lord knows I never 
thought to be a father, and this was a surprise to both of us, but I never 
wanted to hurt him."

"Wesley," Spike said firmly. "This isn't about Angel. This is about you an' 
Fred bein' happy and havin' a baby. There's nothin' wrong with that. I'll talk 
to him. If that's what's bothering him, he'll just have to get over it."

~~~~~

They perched on the rooftop, looking down into the alley, a well-known haunt of 
the worst kind of bloodsuckers. "Quiet tonight," Spike commented.

Angel grunted a reply.

"Not much goin' on."

"Why are we here, Spike? And don't tell me Ty had a vision." Angel didn't even 
bother looking over at him, and the smaller man grimaced. It was going to be 
one of those nights.

"He didn't." He looked over at his grand-sire and wished once again that he 
could have shoved this duty off on someone else. Angel was the only one of the 
old crowd who called him Spike, and it wasn't really an affectionate term. 
Things had gotten pretty strained between the two of them after he'd gotten his 
memories back and Angel had anchored his soul. It didn't make much sense, 
really. There should have been enough happiness to go around. But Spike had 
never completely worked through his resentment of Angelus, and Angel had never 
quite gotten over his hatred of the young vampire who had made his unlife as 
miserable as possible.

Really, there had been harm on both sides, but Angel hadn't had to deal with 
the old Spike, and Spike had been William for eight years—sans all real memory 
of Angelus. The tension had built up over a period of weeks until they'd had a 
truly glorious screaming match, followed by a spectacular fist-fight, and then 
a bottle of scotch spent in mutual reminiscing. When they had gotten home, it 
had been nearly dawn, and both Emmie and Buffy were completely disgusted. On 
the other hand, after they'd gotten over their hangovers, things had been much 
better between the two of them. Buffy had been right about one thing: at this 
point they were more like brothers than they ever had been in the past.

"Emmie's upset," Spike finally said. "She wanted me to talk to you. And Wes and 
Gunn both were askin' me to figure out what's wrong. Even Ty's noticed your bad 
mood. So you want to talk about it?"

"No." Angel straightened and stalked away from the edge of the roof. Spike was 
never one to give up easily once he'd started something.

He grabbed Angel's arm and forced him to turn around. "Is this about Wes and 
Fred's little announcement?" he demanded, going straight for the throat.

Angel pulled away impatiently. "Of course not." There was a long pause. "I'm 
happy for them."

"Good," Spike said, anger touching his tone. "Because you're makin' our lives 
miserable. You got something to find fault with, then come out with it. 
Otherwise, get over it, Angel."

Angel shook his head. "Emmie's so good with kids. You've seen her with Ty. You 
know. How can I ask her to give that up?"

The younger man's eyes narrowed. "Don't even tell me that you're thinkin' what 
I think you're thinkin'. Angel, Emmie knew what she was getting herself into. 
Bloody hell, man, she loves you!"

Angel sat down, leaning his back against the ledge. "I can't give her what she 
needs."

"Who are you to decide what she needs?" Spike demanded. He sat down next to 
Angel. "Look, Emmie's young yet. She might not even be thinkin' about that 
right now. Besides, there's other ways of getting kiddies, Peaches. Plenty of 
people out there who can't have their own. 's not like you don't have options."

"What?" Angel snorted. "Like adoption?"

"Worked for me, didn't it?" Spike asked quietly.

Angel looked over at him in surprise. "Ty's yours, Spike."

"Yeah, because I said so. But it's the same thing as adoption."

"No," Angel shook his head. "I had a paternity test done a few months ago. I 
wanted to be sure there wouldn't be any problems in the future, just in case 
somebody tried to claim him. I had the test done three times, and it came out 
the same every time. He's yours by blood."

Spike stared at him, half in anger, half in disbelief. Angel had said nothing 
to him about the tests. But it wasn't possible—"I was dead, or dying, when Erin 
conceived," he protested. "You know that."

Angel shrugged. "I know, but it doesn't seem to have mattered in this case. 
He's yours, Spike. You said that Erin didn't remember much about it. Maybe the 
Powers had something they needed Ty for. It's not much stranger than you being 
brought back from the dead, or even two vampires having a son."

'Ah,' Spike thought. 'So that's what this is about.'

"Never mind Ty," Spike said aloud. "Though we will have words later about not 
telling me 'bout that blood test. This is about Connor, isn't it?"

"Forget it," Angel said, rising to leave.

Spike shook his head. "Not so fast, Angel. You can't blame Wes for what 
happened. He doesn't even remember it."

"I know that," Angel hissed. "Spike, he was my son. Mine. I want—"

Spike looked at his sire with a great deal of compassion. "You want what you 
can't have," he said softly. "Angel, Emmie loves you. Your soul's anchored. 
You've got friends and family that love you. You keep this up, you could lose 
all that, and then where will you be?" Angel buried his face in his hands. 
"Look, talk to Emmie 'bout this. Take my advice, an' tell her about Connor. 
Figure out what she wants. Maybe she doesn't want kids of her own, and maybe 
the two o' you could adopt."

"I'm a vampire, Spike," Angel said. "Vampires don't adopt."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Git. You're the head of a multi-million dollar 
corporation. You can do whatever you damn well please. Talk to Emmie, Angel. 
She's thinkin' you might not love her anymore."

"But, I—"

"Don't tell me, Peaches. Tell Mary Elizabeth," Spike instructed gently. "And do 
me a favor. Don't make me have to have a heart to heart with you again."

~~~~~

"And he was sure?" Buffy asked quietly.

They had just spent the last few hours making up for being away from each other 
for the last week, and Spike was filling her in on what Angel had told him. "He 
said he'd had the test done three times, luv. But it's impossible." He paused. 
"An' I'm still mad at him for doin' it without tellin' me."

Buffy stroked his chest with a soothing hand. "I get why though, Spike. Ty's 
really special, and if someone ever challenged your right to have him—it could 
get ugly. I'm sure Angel just wanted to be prepared to tamper with the evidence 
or something."

"Yeah, but what does this mean?" he asked her, a plaintive note in his voice. 
"I mean, we knew I got brought back for him, but this is—"

"Scary," she finished for him. "It means there's even more to this than we 
thought. And Wesley hasn't been able to find anything?"

Spike rolled over on his side so he could see her better. "No, but prophecies 
are notoriously unreliable. And—" he broke off.

"What?" When he remained silent, Buffy sat up to face him. "Spike, you have 
something face. You're not hiding something from me, are you?"

He was torn. "Not exactly. 's not my secret to tell, pet," he said slowly. 
"Let's just say, there's a particular prophecy that seemed to involve Angel, 
and it didn't get fulfilled in the way anyone might have expected."

"Prophecies never get fulfilled in the way anybody expects," Buffy said. 
"There's a little more to it than that, isn't there?"

Spike hesitated, and then nodded slowly. "Angel's regrettin' not bein' able to 
give Emmie kids."

Buffy's eyebrows went up. "But Emmie knew that when she decided to be with him. 
He's not actually thinking about leaving her, is he?"

"I don't think so," he said. "But he wants kids of his own, luv, and I can't 
blame him. Fred bein' pregnant just makes it that much more obvious what he 
can't do."

Buffy sighed and didn't reply. She remembered very well why Angel had left all 
those years ago. It was long past now, and she didn't regret it for a second 
while lying next to Spike, but she was afraid for Emmie, that Angel would 
decide to be all heroic again.

"What about you, Buffy?" Spike asked suddenly, a wistful note in his tone.

"What about me?" she asked in surprise.

He hesitated, and then took one of her hands in his. "Look, luv, 'm not saying 
that I'm not happy, but have you ever thought about having, you know—"

"Kids of our own?" She looked at him tenderly. "We have Ty."

He looked abashed, but pressed on. "I know, but I wouldn't mind havin' another 
one or two, you know. I wouldn't even mind getting married." This last was said 
quietly, and Buffy was silent for a long time, not knowing exactly what to say. 
Spike was the first guy to seriously bring up marriage or kids, as in wanting 
both with her, and a part of her wanted it. The other part was scared stiff.

"Spike—"

"It's okay if you don't want to," he said quietly. "Like I said, 'm happy right 
now."

"It isn't that I don't want to," Buffy assured him. "Are you serious? I mean, 
really serious about this whole thing?"

"'Course," he replied. "I love you. I don't want to be with anybody else, ever. 
We're both human, you love Ty, he loves you. There's nothing standing in our 
way, Buffy." Spike wasn't trying to push her, but in his heart of hearts, there 
still lived the Victorian gentleman he had been. And that gentleman had been 
brought up to believe that marriage was the end goal.

Buffy looked into his eyes and suddenly wondered why she was having such a hard 
time deciding. He was right. There really wasn't anything standing in their 
way. Maybe they hadn't talked about it before, but it was more because they'd 
been content with what they'd had, not because she hadn't wanted more someday. 
"I never thought I'd live long enough to make it worthwhile," she confessed. "I 
don't know, Spike. I haven't really thought about it, but, yes. I would marry 
you. And I wouldn't mind having a child, but I think I'd like to wait for a 
little while on that one."

A smile grew on his face, dazzling in its brilliance. He gave her a hard kiss 
on the mouth and buried his face in her hair. "I love you."

The Slayer held him close and wondered what she'd ever done to deserve him. "I 
love you, too, William."

~~~~~

"Angel, talk to me," Emmie pleaded. He'd come home from his meeting with Spike 
quiet and thoughtful, but she'd let him make love to her, even though she 
really would have rather talked first. She was so afraid that she was losing 
him. Angel had been distant the last two weeks, and had avoided her every 
attempt to draw him out. That had been the only reason she'd gone to William 
about it. Normally, she would have wanted to handle him herself, but that just 
wasn't an option this time.

Angel rolled over to look at her, and he could see the fear Spike had told him 
about. Suddenly he felt bad for not coming to her sooner; he knew she was still 
insecure when it came to relationships. "I'm sorry, Emmie."

"Don't be sorry," she said, suddenly angry. "Just tell me what's going on." She 
would have gotten up from the bed, but he tugged her back into his arms, 
needing to hold her, to feel her next to him.

"I can't give you kids, sweetheart," he said softly, knowing she would 
understand.

Emmie blinked, realizing immediately what this had all been about. "I knew that 
when I fell in love with you, Angel. I didn't have to choose to be with you, 
you know. I could have left."

"I know, but now that Fred is pregnant, it's just—"

"It's okay," Emmie said softly. She twisted so that she could look him in the 
eye. "I'm only twenty-four, Angel. Barely. I have some time to make that 
decision, and there are options."

"That's what Spike said," he muttered, somewhat sourly.

She chuckled. "Well, he was right." Emmie reached up to caress his face. "There 
are other things to loving a vampire that I have to deal with, you know. You'll 
stay young, even though I'll grow old. I could get sick, and you won't. I know 
all that, and I'm okay with it. But you can't shut me out like that, Angel."

"I'm sorry," he said again, and stroked her hair tenderly. And then he showed 
her again just how much he loved her.

---------------------------------