Summary: Spike is left alone to deal with the Terminator and
gets help doing it .
Spoilers: Maybe some for Season Two.
Comments: Oh, thanks Vixen a million times over for the Beta!!
*******************************
Okay. Okay, here I sit like a stupid homeless wanker. I like being stewed to the eyeballs, sauced to the gills, stone cold drunk. Gives me a feeling of perky happiness, a feeling that all is right with myself, no matter what some sodding, driven World Saver thinks I should be all about. He¹s all grim and focused and Wyatt Earp on a mission to waste everybody down at the W & H Corral. Asshole thinks LA is Dodge City. Gotta be more evil than evil, get down to their level. Think like they think. Do what they¹d do. Takes one to know one and so on and so on till I think I¹m gonna puke.
He says 250 years of living have made him believe that life is not simple, that these situations are complicated. Bollocks. This is so simple, it¹s stupid. He wants control over his two bitches. Nothing simple or uncommon about an overblown, raging, instinctual, testosterone-laden drive to be the big cheese in the tribe. Go get Œem Bat Boy I say. Do Œem in. Trounce em, drive em outa Angel City. What a lot of wasted energy. I¹d rather just sit here and stare out into traffic and soak up some more Jack Daniels.
So Darla and Dru want a piece of the action? So who gives a flying fuck? Everything has its checks and balances. They get too far out of line, some studio head is likely to hook up with Wolfram and Hart and then the Two Bloody Chicks song and dance team is lying on the cutting room floor before you know it. They¹ve already gone too far with the power blackouts. We know they¹re behind those and no movie studio is gonna put up with dimming lights for long.
So, (sod it, I¹ve got the hiccups), their reign will be short and sweet. After all, this is the city where the movie has got to be made before anyone will pay attention to the potholes. No vampire can stand before the might of the Silver Screen.
I lie back on the steps outside the office and think about howling at the moon. Wesley, Cordelia, and Gunn are all in their apartments brooding about being fired. I didn¹t even try to reason with them. So, it¹s just me and him. What fun. What a delight to have this obsessive-compulsive, anal retentive, ditzy vigilante vampire all to myself. Ohh he¹s so sexy when he gets that stupid lets-get-down-and-dirty -and-hit-¹em -where-it -hurts look on his puss. Yippee ki-yi-ay. Rope em and brand em and mark Œem with T. Burn em in the factory for City and Me.
Bleeding hell. Now who¹s this chit standing in front of me? Homeless teenagers everywhere. She¹s looking down into my face, straggley hair falling down her head. She has blue eyes and slightly blue skin. Wasted. 'What you want, Teen Twit?² I say.
'Nothing.² she says, real bright like.
'Well sod off.² I say, just as bright like.
'What if I don¹t?² she says. She¹s right. What if she don¹t? Nothing I can do but move over. I get up and walk around her and down a step or two and plunk my ass down again. Next thing I know she¹s got her skinny face in mine and she is looking mean. 'What are you doing?² she says.
'What¹d you mean?² I said. 'What the hell business is it of yours?'
'You¹re sitting on my step.'
'Bloody hell, your step. You don¹t own this step. ŒSmy step, Bunnykins.'
'Do you think I¹d let some drunk sit on my step?'
'Bugger off. Get yer skinny self out of my face, lady.' I can be rude if I have to.
'This is my step, you are on it, Creepy Leather Man, now move your rude butt. And don¹t call me skinny, you bag of bones.' She hovers over me like smoke. I reach up and give her a push. My hand seems to go right through her, but what do I know, I¹m so pissing drunk.
'Watch it Blondie, don¹t touch the merchandise.' She grabs me by my hair and yanks. I go flying down the steps, turn a somersault over the sidewalk and land on the hood of Angel¹s car. I sit up and look around. All I can see on one side is traffic going by in a blur and, on the steps of the Hotel, this wraith of a chick with bluish skin standing. hands on hips, glaring down at me. How¹d the chit managed to toss an undead deadweight like me onto a parked car? I roll off the Belvedere. Thinks she can go bowling with my handsome ass, does she? I totter back to the steps. I start up one at a time carefully cause they don¹t seem to want to stay in any particular place. I get up to one step below her. She leans out menacingly.
'Wanna try something, Snowdrop?' she challenges.
'I was here first. Now get stuffed.'
She doesn¹t move. She sucks air into her cheeks up, purses up her lips and puffs at me like the big, bad wolf. I feel myself begin to fall backward and start flailing my arms. Her breath smells like blueberries. I manage to take a step down for balance, but I sense I am losing ground in this battle. Oh, oh. I step on the side of my right Doc and my ankle goes out from under and I am down. She is in big trouble. Soon, any minute now she is going to find out what happens when you shove a vampire around. Any minute now I am going to get up and smack her.
Then I realize I am not going to get up for awhile Œcause my legs are taking a nap, and I search around for my Jack Daniels only to see it smashed on the curb. 'Bloody sodding bloody Hell,' I murmur.
She snaps, 'Stop that screeching. You¹ll attract attention.'
I have had it. I roll down the steps and heave myself to my feet. I shake myself to make sure all the parts are attached. I look up at her again. This time I see the Right Honorable Sheriff himself come out of the door and start down the steps. He walks past her, all death and determination, and down to me.
'What do you think you¹re doing?' He says.
'Go fuck yourself. Go kill something. Go on. Scram. I¹m busy.'
'Don¹t get in my way, Spike.'
'Oh? You¹ve got your own step now too? Can¹t a fellow have a step or two of his own, then?'
'What are you talking about? You¹re drunk.'
'So what if I am. A fellow gets set upon by some chick and then the King of the Barnyard comes out and cackles at him and pretty soon a fellow is got to think it¹s time to piss on you both.' I fold my arms and glare up at them.
'What chick are you talking about? Cordelia¹s gone.'
'That one right there you soul assed wonder. You walked right by her.'
'Why don¹t you go in and sober up. I may even get back tonight and I want you in the building where I know you won¹t get into trouble. Have the DTs inside. Hallucinate all you want in the tub.'
I look at the girl, then I look at him. What the fuck? She looks at me and smirks. I say to him, 'Look, that girl, right there Marshall Dillon.' I point up the stairs. He looks up briefly and then back at me.
'Do I have to carry you indoors and chain you to the bed or are you going in on your own power?'
'For fucks sake, Mate, simmer down. Just where do you get off telling me what you¹re going to do with my ass?' He grabs me by the arm and flips me over his shoulder and marches back up the stairs. Next thing I know I am chained up to the headboard of the bed and he¹s gone.
I lie here and contemplate. Now, I could get out of this, but do I want to? The room is doing a bit of spinning. Almost lost my ice cream hanging over his shoulder like that, but I know what happens when vomit gets on his cashmere, so I hung on and waited till I landed on my back on the bed. Then, whoops. All over his sheets. Don¹t remember him saying anything, just slapping on the manacles and leaving. So here I am lying in the recycled ice cream and wondering whether my gentle Sire is coming back soon or never. I decide I¹ve had enough of these cuffs and I wiggle my hands and pop my thumbs so I can slide out of them. Then I sit up and wait till the room settles down.
I go out to the lobby and turn on the telly. After a minute of channel flipping I go up to the doors and look out. The girl is still sitting on the steps. I open the door and yell down at her. 'Want some coffee?' She turns and looks up at me.
'Might as well.' She picks up her backpack and starts up the steps. I let her in and lock the door. She looks around. 'So, you didn¹t need your own step after all. Nice digs.'
'Guess so. Not mine. Belongs to that lard ass you saw pick me up and drop me inside. It¹s his idea of class. Poor old sod thinks he can wow us all with antiques.'
'Didn¹t look to me like he particularly cared whether he wowed anybody or not. He looked pretty determined, grim, and humorless to me.'
'Pretty well describes him. Thinks he¹s the be all, end all to the criminal justice system.'
'He¹s a cop?'
'Sort of. He hunts down evil and whacks it around. Tried to burn a couple of vampires last night. Big mistake probably. Vampires get really pissed when someone tries to fry them.' I look at her to see how she reacts to this bit of whimsy.
She is looking at an antique lamp. 'Well, evil is pretty endemic to LA. But, I can imagine how vampires might be irritated by an immolation attempt.' She picks up a square, silver ashtray and turns it over so she can examine the mark.
'You got a lot of big words for a homeless chick.' I say. 'And just what does a kid like you know about vampires?'
She glances at me. 'I¹m not a kid. Don¹t patronize me.' I throw my hands up in the air and go to make coffee. Touchy, that one. Almost as touchy as You Know Who. I measure the coffee into the filter. Then I fill the well with water. When I turn around she is leaning on the desk looking at me.
'Yeah, what?' I say lighting a cig.
'I need a room,' she says. I shake out the match. 'Look around, pick one.'
'I thought you didn¹t own this place. Don¹t you think you¹d better ask your boss if it¹s okay?'
'He¹s not my boss and the big goofball didn¹t even see you out there. He¹s gonna see you now, in here?'
'Probably not.' She shrugs as if it doesn¹t matter. 'Most people don¹t notice me. It¹s better that way.' She plunks herself down on the sofa and props her tootsies on the coffee table. 'Who else lives here?'
'Just us. We had three others who worked in the place helping thrash Satan¹s hordes, but he fired them. Now there¹s just me and him.'
'How come he didn¹t fire you?'
'Hard to fire your poopsie. ' I give her a lewd wink. 'Besides, we¹re family too. Kind of an incest thing, if you know what I mean.'
'Oh, I see.' She yawns. Nothing shocks this kid. Vampires, incest, evil. They grow em tough in LA. 'Well, guess we should get some rest. Unless you want to stay up and talk stuff over.'
'Hey, you said you wanted coffee and what in bleedin¹ hell would I want to talk over with you?'
'When people drink coffee together they talk stuff over. Don¹t you watch TV?'
'I am the original telly watcher. I know a lot of stuff from watching the telly. I also know that you and I don¹t have 'stuff' to talk over. We just met one another.'
'Well, be that way. So brassy and big and bad. Tough guy, huh?'
'Big Bad is my original name. Nobody messes with me.'
'Yeah, right.' She tips her head back on the couch and smiles. I pour the coffee and take her down a mug.
'Nothing but some old bags of stuff in the fridge. No one around to buy milk and neither me nor the Lone Ranger gets to the supermarket much. Got ice cream though in the freezer part and some vanilla wafers.'
'Cookies will be fine.' she says. I bring the box over and we sit and look at each other and munch.
'You look kind of blue around the gills,' I say, 'You on something?'
'Nah,' she says, 'Always been that way. Got this gene that makes me that way. Pockets of us bluish types all around the world. Probably inbreeding that does it. We stick to ourselves pretty much.'
'Does it hurt?'
'Does it look like it hurts?'
'Dunno. You look pretty seizure free. What are you doing in LA?'
'Business.'
'Well, what kind of business? You said we were going to talk about stuff. I ask you something, you answer, then you ask me something and I answer... if I feel like it.'
'Sounds like such a fair exchange. Anyway, I¹ll answer you first. I¹m here on business. I got a job here. So I came out. Now I have to find a place to live. How much are the rooms here?'
'Don¹t know. We never rented any of them before. But there¹s sixty eight of em, all empty but the suite on this floor. That¹s where Whosis and I stay. Otherwise, you got your pick. But he and I can get noisy, so you might want another floor.'
'Definitely, I like my peace and quiet. Moaning and screaming keep me awake. I¹ll pick something on the second floor, if I decide to stay.' She casts her eye around the place. 'It¹s nice here. You like it?'
I shrug. Never thought much about it. 'It¹s all right. Like the bed. Course right now it¹s full of ice cream. I threw up in it. Should clean it up I suppose, change the sheets.'
She cocks her head on one side and looks at me with a little smile. 'You will just say anything, won¹t you?'
'Doesn¹t seem to phase you, Peaches.'
She smiles a little wider.' No, it doesn¹t.' She yawns.
'Does the new job pay well?' She¹s making me curious.
'Well enough. It¹s not my first job, I¹ve done it before and I¹m good at it. Ohh, Œscuse me, I¹m so sleepy.' She yawns again. The inside of her mouth is the color of blue neon, she glows blue from deep down inside. I light another cig and sit and look at her. One thing is interesting. She doesn¹t have much of a smell...unless you count the blueberry fruity smell. That¹s odd. My enhanced sense of undead smell can pick out your type of underarm deodorant if I concentrate on it. I don¹t get those smells from her. She Œs a weird one. Want to keep her up till Deputy Dawg gets back, see if he can detect her in here. Obvious that he didn¹t see her on the steps. Curious.
I look at her. She¹s nodded off on the sofa. I get a blanket from the closet in the suite and cover her up. She smiles in her sleep. It¹s an 'I told you so' smile.
I sit down and watch her again, smoking, until I hear the patter of big paws on the landing and the door opens. He storms in, face as dark as cold front. He¹s a mess, covered in green slime and blood. He stomps over to me and says, 'What are you doing up?'
'Excuse me, Peaches. What the hell business is it of yours what I do?' He snarls at me and turns away and walks into the suite. I get up and follow him. He throws his weapons bag down on the bed and stands looking at the ice cream spot. I wonder if Elliott Ness worried this much about his 300 count sheets.
I say, 'Those sheets need changing, Pet. Better get to it.' I walk back out to the lobby. I sit down next to the girl. I hear banging around in the suite. He¹s lifting up the bed and mattress as he changes the sheets and slamming the bed frame up and down on the floor. He barges back out into the lobby and comes around the couch and towers over us.
He doesn¹t say anything, just stands there glowering. I smile up at him and lean against the girl. The big dope honestly doesn¹t see her. This is so sodding rich! I take a puff on my cig, reach forward and carefully (and deliberately) drop the ash on the carpet. His arm shoots out and his fist wraps itself around the buckle of my belt. As fast as he grabs hold of it he lets go. He looks at his hand and shakes it up and down, in shock. I¹m surprised too. I jump up and take it in my hand and check it. We look at each other. His hand is blue and cold. I wrap it in my two and hold it against my chest. He looks astounded. I am not sure what¹s happening. I look down at the slightly blue girl. She has one eye open and she¹s wearing that smirk again. I look back at him. He is staring at me.
I say, 'Are you all right, Mate?' He just stands and looks at me. Then the tears start. He doesn¹t say anything, tears just run down his cheeks. I put one hand on the back of his head and pull him down to my height and kiss him. 'It¹s okay. It¹s okay.' I look at his hand. It¹s regaining its normal color.
'What happened?' he snuffles. He means more than the hand. I tell him to sit and I¹ll be right back. I go up to the suite and get the aloe gel. When I get back he is slumped on the matching sofa across from the girl staring at his hand. She has both eyes open and is watching him. She still has the blanket over her and her feet on the table. I look at her. She looks at me, yawns and tucks the blanket under her chin and nods off. I go over and take his hand and rub the gel into it.
'How much do we charge for rooms here?' I ask.
He looks at me oddly, 'Huh?' he says.
'I know somebody who¹s looking for a room. How much do we charge?'
'I don¹t know. Ask Cordelia.'
'You fired Cordelia. Remember?' He sits and looks dully at the coffee table like it knows special stuff.
'Come on I say. It¹s time for bed.' I pull him up and lead him into the suite. He sits down on the bed and puts his head in his hands. I push him back on the bed and pull his clothes off one piece at a time. Finally he pulls himself under the covers and rolls on his side facing me. I undress and get in next to him and face him. He puts his forehead against mine and says, 'I¹m sorry.' I tell him I know. I tell him that he¹s always sorry and that I don¹t give a damn. I tell him to forget about it.
We just lie there heads touching and hands on one another¹s thighs and we fall asleep.
I wake up and look at the clock. It¹s day time. Two o¹clock daytime. Angel is not in bed. I get up and pull on my jeans and wander out into the lobby. The girl is standing by the counter drinking a beer. Angel is nowhere around. I ask her if she¹s seen him.
'He¹s downstairs. With some guy who came in. I don¹t think they¹re having a pleasant discussion.' I go to the door to the basement. I hear Wesley telling Angel that someone has to fight the good fight. Self righteous little prick. I get ready to yank the door open, but the girl¹s hand is on mine suddenly.
She says, 'Maybe they have issues that they need to work out. Is that your business?'
'Listen, Cutie, Angel is my business.' Wesley opens the door and steps through. He closes it firmly behind him. I can hear the thunk, thunk of throwing knives hitting the target below. Wesley barely glances at me.
'Goodbye, Spike. I¹ve just explained to Angel that Gunn, Cordelia, and I intend to go on with the good fight regardless of his behavior. Someone has to do, and we have decided that we will continue....'
'Shut the fuck up, you skinny prat.' I say. 'Shove off, no, drop dead. No, go whack a few slime demons, if that what gets your bollocks off. But leave Angel alone. Nobody needs your prancing, goody two shoes, condescending butt around here.'
He sniffs and heads for the door. He stops and makes a detour and grabs the Mr. Coffee. 'I¹m fetching this for Cordelia. You¹ll have to make your own coffee now.' He marches out like the last true martyr.
'And,' I yell after him, 'Try blaming yourselves if you screw up. Last thing I want to hear is that Angel¹s be-hav-ior caused you all to get migraines or the clap or cancer or go blind or bankrupt. Sod off.' He slams the door behind him.
The girl is looking at me. She says, 'You¹re very protective of someone who was ready to wipe up the floor with you a few hours ago.' She has her arms folded and is wiggling one boot toe back and forth.
'You got a lot of questions for someone who¹s mooching off us for a place to flop.' I say. I open the basement door and take a step forward.
'Have it your way,' she says, 'I¹ll be here in the lobby if you need me. Just one word or advice.' She leans toward me and whispers, ' Boundaries.'
'Give me a break.' I say. What is she? Now I¹m sure its some kind of a social worker. I go through, close the door and head down the stairs. He is working on his knife throwing. The knives are all in the center except for one. Must be Wesley threw his aim off. I sit on the stairs and watch him for awhile. Mr. Grim Resolve tosses away. Must have a whole bag of knives, like a bucket of tennis balls. Finally he quits. Then he sees me.
'What is it, Spike?' He walks to the stairs and looks at me.
I say, 'Nada, just like the way your back muscles ripple around that undershirt. I claim some bleedin ownership of those muscles and on the ones in front as well, I might add.' He grins and goes over to the leather bag on the stack of boxes.
He starts throwing anything that comes to hand at the target. 'Wesley was just here. They¹re setting up their own business.' I don¹t say anything. 'I don¹t have time to deal with them.'
'Right, ' I say. 'He took the Mr. Coffee.' Angel pauses and then starts throwing again.
I tell him I¹ll pick up another one tonight, if he¹ll give me the money. He puts the weapon down and comes back over to look up at me.
'You said you¹d never leave me.'
'That I did, Mate.'
'Are you still sure about that?' His look is intense. He doesn¹t blink. Neither do I.
'Fuck you, ' I reply and go back up to the lobby. The girl is stretched out again on the sofa. I sit down across from her. She looks at me. Her hair flickers with tiny blue sparks.
'You look pissed,' she remarks
'I oughta be. He¹s gonna try to leave me.' I gnaw at my lower lip.
'You¹re sulking.'
'Damn straight, Sweetie. He¹s cutting off the whole world. He wants to go it alone, a one man war machine, Terminator III. He¹s gone round the bend.'
I hear him come across the lobby behind me. 'Stop talking to yourself. If you¹ve got something to say, say it to my face.' He wants a fight. He¹s got it.
I start yelling, 'You asshole. You dare doubt me. You got a hell of a nerve. Why don¹t you just go out there like a good little obsessive compulsive vengeance freak and rip the guts out of Wolfram and Hart. Get it done with, tear 'em to pieces, roll in the gore, drink 'em all dry. Just don¹t bring me into your mission. I thought Angelus was bad with his vision of bloody Armageddon. You make him look like a pious puppy, you fucking ninja maniac. I¹ll stand up for you, I¹ll watch your back, but I don¹t buy the sodding bloody program. If you want to go out and trash the city, do it, but don¹t justify it by saying they deserve it. Just get wacky and do it, don¹t give me garbage about how I¹m supposed to be down on the universe, because I¹m not . It ain¹t my style. And don¹t project some desire to walk out on me. It¹s you who doesn¹t want to be encumbered.' I get up and walk over to him and sock him in the solar plexus. He bends over, slightly. He really has been working those abs. He back hands me across the jaw and I sail over the coffee table and land on top of the girl. She squeaks.
He lunges toward me, but I kick up and catch him just under the chin. His head snaps back but he keeps coming and suddenly he¹s on top of me. I grab him by the hair and turn his face to mine and kiss him hard and then jam my knee up and into his groin. He groans. I kiss harder and his tongue swings through my mouth and into my throat. I groan and we slide off the couch onto the floor. I wrench myself around until I am on top. He wrenches himself around until he¹s on top. I break the kiss and roll out from under him. The girl sits on the couch wide-eyed, knees drawn up.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and say, 'What do you think, Lover? Am I ever going to leave you?'
'No.' he snarls.
'So don¹t ask again, you fat sot.' I growl back at him. He looks up from under those craggy prehistoric brows and his eyes glow. He starts to get up, but I see the attack coming and I slip sideways. He misses me by inches and I put an elbow hard into his ribs. He catches my wrist and yanks me toward him. I pull away. He is stronger and he finds my other wrist. I start kicking him in the thighs and stomach, but he hauls me closer and traps my left leg in between his knees and heaves himself over my right foot so I can¹t move. I thrash around to no avail. He¹s got me. I go limp with an option to spring away if he lets up for an instant. He doesn¹t and won¹t, I¹ll wager.
'Where do we go from here?' I say. 'Sex? I thought you saw that as a distraction from your purposeful focus on the destruction of all that is evil. I wouldn¹t sidetrack the great engine of righteousness that is you, Captain America.'
He moves his grip to my upper arms and starts shaking me. I start laughing. He shakes harder. This is starting to piss me off and I writhe around in his grip. 'Stop it, you great bully.' I say. The next thing I know he¹s half way across the room, lying unconscious on his back. I jump up and then turn and look at the girl. She is still huddled on the sofa, but now she is looking intently at me.
She says, 'You allow him to abuse you, don¹t you. You provoke it.' Her gaze travels off and she continues, 'The only people who do that are those who find pain familiar and see it as a sort of negative proof of love.'
'You are a bloody social worker, aren¹t you?' I ask.
'It¹s my calling. Everybody needs one of me. I happen to be yours.'
'Well, take those calls someplace else. I¹m out and there¹s no bloody answering machine.' Out of the corner of my eye, I see Angel starting to get up. I watch him warily. He stands, then lurches to within four feet of me and stops. 'How did you do that?'
I don¹t answer. He shakes himself. He is shivering.
'Why did you do that?'
'It¹s that whaddyacallit. Seen it on the telly. It¹s what your not supposed to do when you want someone to stop doing something. Like when you want me to stop flicking ashes on the rug, you grab me and beat the crap out of me. You¹re not supposed to do that. Instead, Big Guy, you¹re supposed to explain to me nicely that it isn¹t polite, it will damage the rug, and that it is important to you personally that I not do that. You¹re supposed to tell me my behavior is unacceptable or inappropriate or some such trash. But, because you do the whaddyacallit to me, I do it back to you and we get into a vicious circle of scrumptious, evil, adrenalin-pumping violence. See?'
'I¹m in awe of your perception.' says the girl. Angel says nothing. He looks at me and I can see a twinkle down deep.
Then he says, 'Aversive conditioning. You¹re talking about Pavlov and Skinner.'
'Yeah, that¹s it, Mate. We get aversive all over one another.'
'Well, avert your marble butt into bed before I count to ten.'
'Are you just going to take that from him?' snaps the girl.
'What do you think I am?' I say.
Angel says,'You¹re mine. You¹re my childe, my friend, my consort, my lover, my property, and you¹re a pain in the ass. I want to fuck you, be in you, rub against you, and I want to hold you. I want you to get to bed now before I collapse here with desire.'
The girl says, 'I think you are an abused young man with the mentality of a three year old who has learned to abuse back, because that¹s what he knows.'
Youngsters have a way of boiling down the universe. I say, 'Okay, have it your way.' I am getting off on answering them both at once. Yikes, this is fun. 'Time for beddy bye.' Angel starts toward the suite. The girl doesn¹t move.
'I object to the way you simply accept violence to your person as your due.' she yaps.
'Sweetheart,' I whisper, 'I like violence. Did I tell you that? There are some of us who do, you know.' I go vamp face at her, just to see what she¹ll do.
She gets this long suffering expression. 'Please do not do that. It¹s counter productive. You need to think about all this violence business. It¹s not good for you in the long run. And, don¹t try that nasty vampire mugging stuff on me, I don¹t buy it for a minute.'
Now I confess I am a little surprised. 'Who told you I was a vampire?'
'Are you dense or are you toying with me? Of course I know you¹re a vampire. What do you think this is? I¹ve done my homework on you. I didn¹t get this assignment based on my power wardrobe.' she looks pissed.
Angel comes to the door of the suite wearing an impatient face and nothing else. I can¹t help but start drooling. I lick my lips quickly then I bend over close to the girl¹s face. 'What¹ s your name?' I whisper. We are slightly hidden from Ambivalent Soul Boy by the back of the couch.
'Just call me B.F. Everybody does. The B. stands for 'Blue¹, you can guess at the F.' She pulls the throw around her. 'Go to bed with him if you really want to. I¹ll be here in the morning to wipe up the blood and stitch you up. Be sure you use lube. Don¹t let him go after you without it.'
Now William the Bloody is getting annoyed. Angel is coming across the lobby so I say, 'Well, about time we sorted this whole thing out, isn¹t it, Pet?' She nods her head. He just looks grim. 'First off you have a lot of explaining to do.' Her dirty blondish, bluish eyebrows arch up.
Angel says, 'I don¹t want to explain anything. I just want to hold you right now. Come to bed.' He hesitates and looks away and swallows, 'And I want you to hold me.' I want to hold him too, but this girl is distracting me.
She says, 'Go on. You need to reinforce his more sensitive behaviors toward you.' Is she nuts or what? I get up and head over to him and touch his cheek. He¹s cold and still shivering from her tossing him across the lobby and putting him in the deep freeze at the same time. I take him by the arm and lead him off. I look back once. She is hunkered down and her eyes are closed.
In the bedroom I turn around and put my arms around his waist and hold him. He wraps his whole upper body around me and leans his temple against my hair. He¹s turned the heat up and he is starting to feel warmer. I stroke the furrow down his spine and he trembles when I reach the small of his back. It¹s so bloody easy for me to make his knees turn to jelly. One thing I really like about this big dope is the way he responds to every little touch. This is the side of him only I see. Maybe Buffy got a glimpse once, but this is really my domain. I continue the stroke down the crack between his two gorgeous cheeks and I play with the opening, gently inserting one finger, unlubed, for just a little way while I reach for the tub with my other hand. I remove my finger and scoop out a glob of white stuff , set the tub back and cover both hands thoroughly with it. Then I slide one hand between his legs and up to his anus and work my fingers in. He is tight, tense. I pull him toward the bed and fall on my back carrying him with me. I roll him over.. 'Relax, Angel. It¹s going to be good. Relax. Forget Wesley, forget Wolfram and Hart, forget Darla, there¹s just us, Pet. Relax.' He moans softly but doesn¹t unwrap himself from around me. I work the opening until I feel the muscles give a little. I insert two fingers and then a third. As he loosens, I push my whole hand in and caress his prostate gently. He makes a sobbing sound and his arms fall away from me to the bed. I lift his legs with my other hand and pull my zipper down. In a second I am inside him moving easily and gently. He reinforces my touches by moaning and turning his head back and forth as I increase the tempo. His eyes are half open and glazed. I love the control I have over him. I love him. I love giving him this deep, burning, feverish joy. I love being with him like this, both of us moving to one rhythm. We are so close at times like this. His dark power and my light smashing our atoms into a third, ecstatic entity all sizzle and shining glory. I plunge deeper and grip his biceps hard enough to leave crescents of blood as I come in waves of grinding muscle and howling passion. I am in some sort of erotic trance as i feel him turn me over and hear the thud of the lube tub on the floor and then he is returning my lust, tearing my pants off and then loosening me. I feel him push in and I lose all normal consciousness. He works me quickly and I grow hard again with the friction of his belly against my penis. I know I¹m crying and gasping and I reach for him and wind my fingers in his hair. I can feel him growing, building toward orgasm and he chokes out, 'Spike, please, please, I want...' He comes hard and long , and I can feel him throbbing and exploding again and again until he finishes and collapses on top of me. We never even got all my clothes off. I tell him I love it when he comes, and that, at that moment, he¹s truly mine. He lies still for a minute.
'I want you always, Spike. I want you even though I¹m not always good to you. Don¹t leave me no matter what I do, please. Please.' God, he¹s asking for that unconditional love I¹ve always had for him.
'Nothing easier to say yes to, Peaches. Just don¹t expect me to be some sort of punching bag, though. Expect resistance if you get really mean.' He hugs me tight. I hug him back. We hold each other for awhile. Funny how often he needs reassurance that I love him. Someone with this much self discipline, strength, world vision, and life experience needs me, an impulsive, bitchy, sarcastic guttersnipe to give him validation. Go figure.
I am getting hard again and, from the pressure against my thigh, so is he. This time we take it long and slow, sucking each other, nipping, fangs razoring over nipples and lips and thighs, fingers clenching and stroking, smoothing away terrors, easing muscle charged fears. Tongues swirl over penis heads. We lick and purr and smell and cling and we come in each other¹s throats, swallowing thick pulses of semen, undead hearts surging, minds spinning with rapture and ravaging lust.
Later, we lie on our sides, mouths together, kissing and licking softly. He tells me that he has no words for what we are together. I tell him words don't mean much. It's these kisses that say it all. Soft lips brushing, teasing, punishing, loving, and on and on. He falls asleep. I lie still against him and wonder about the girl. After awhile I get up, pull my pants on and go out to where she is still napping on the sofa. She opens one eye and peeks at me.
'How'd it go? Do I need to get the needle and thread?'
'Will you tell me who you are and what the bleeding blazes you are doing here?'
'Who do you think I am?'
'What's with all this social worker crap?'
'Works, doesn't it?' She smiles smugly. She stretches and gets up. 'What about coffee? It's four o'clock in the afternoon. I need something to perk me up.'
'We don't have a machine.'
'What's that?' she says glancing at the desk. I look over to see a large, stainless steel Braun coffee maker lurking on the counter.
'Oh, thanks.' I go over and dig out the coffee and add it to the gold filter basket. Then I pour in the water and turn it on.
'Where'd you get it? The bibbity bobbity boo store?'
'Maybe.' She leans on her elbows and watches the coffee drip into the carafe.
I say, 'What does the F. stand for?'
'Me to know and you to find out as they say. By the way, I need to do my resume. Is there a computer here?' I show her the one Cordelia used. She sits at Angel's desk and switches it on. I look at her. She's a little bluer in the light of the green shaded desk lamp. Her blondish, stringy hair has flickering pale azure highlights. She can toss the Poof around like an old Kleenex. She has all these ideas about who should do what to who and how, like she wasn't all of 19 years old. She lets me see her, but not Wesley or Angel.
'How come I'm the only one who can see you?'
'Who are you talking to?,' says Vampire Joe hunking up behind me. I reach up and scruffle his foofy hair. He takes my hand away and kisses my fingers. I realize he's just stopped me from doing something he doesn't like and is showing me he loves me at the same time. That girl is a smarty. I look back at her, but the computer is closed. She's gone.
I pull my hand away and go out into the lobby. No sign of her. I look all over. No smell of blueberries either. She just... isn't... anymore. The sunlight is streaming through the lobby doors and I start to yawn. Angel walks out and stands next to me looking curious.
I turn to him. 'Back to bed, Pet. Just think, we don't have to worry about getting up cause the Bob Queen might have a vision or because Gunn found something slimey in an alley. All we have to worry about is Armageddon and the coming plague and that won't be for at least a week or two. Might as well enjoy the moment. Right?
He yawns. 'Whatever. When did you get the coffee maker? Let's have some and find the paper. Then we can stay in bed all day.'
I take one more look around. There are blue shafts of light in the sunbeams.
I smile. Always something wacky going on, if you hang around in this universe
long enough. Awful glad she left my nose alone though, but after all, I
am a real boy already.
The End.