december ficlet #3
Oh, man. I meant to write a schmoopy Sponner ficlet and this is what came out of my brain instead.
After the 147th time that Connor asked him, Angel finally gave in.
Connor grinned so wide it hurt; he couldn't help it. "I love you, Dad," he said. And then, "Thank you." He hugged Angel for a long time, but when he finally stepped away, Angel reached for him again, one hand circling Connor's arm.
"If he *ever* - if he loses the soul, somehow - "
"I'll move out," Connor promised.
"You stake him," Angel said. "You grab whatever piece of wood you can find and you make him dust."
"Oh, Dad," Connor laughed. He hugged his father again.
*
147 hours after Spike lost his soul, he started asking Connor. Connor kept saying, "no."
"Why not?" Spike asked. He reached for the counter behind him and leaned back on his heels. They were in the kitchen, Connor frying bacon on the griddle.
"You know why not," Connor said. "Get me some paper towels, will you?"
Spike ripped a couple of sheet off the roll and went to stand behind Connor. He wrapped his arm around Connor's side and offered the towels.
"Don't you want to be together forever?" Spike asked, keeping his voice light. He dropped a kiss behind Connor's ear.
Connor turned the gas off and set the spatula on the stovetop. "I wouldn't be me anymore," Connor said.
"Sure you would," Spike replied. He wrapped both arms around Connor. "Nothing would change. Look at me."
*
147 days after Connor became a vampire, Angel found them in a New York loft. They were in the bedroom, fucking, Connor's face hidden in the pillows, his ass in the air, when Angel walked in.
Back in Los Angeles, the police were still searching for the serial killer of nine five-year-old boys who had all died while choking on their own organs.
Angel killed Connor first.
After the 147th time that Connor asked him, Angel finally gave in.
Connor grinned so wide it hurt; he couldn't help it. "I love you, Dad," he said. And then, "Thank you." He hugged Angel for a long time, but when he finally stepped away, Angel reached for him again, one hand circling Connor's arm.
"If he *ever* - if he loses the soul, somehow - "
"I'll move out," Connor promised.
"You stake him," Angel said. "You grab whatever piece of wood you can find and you make him dust."
"Oh, Dad," Connor laughed. He hugged his father again.
*
147 hours after Spike lost his soul, he started asking Connor. Connor kept saying, "no."
"Why not?" Spike asked. He reached for the counter behind him and leaned back on his heels. They were in the kitchen, Connor frying bacon on the griddle.
"You know why not," Connor said. "Get me some paper towels, will you?"
Spike ripped a couple of sheet off the roll and went to stand behind Connor. He wrapped his arm around Connor's side and offered the towels.
"Don't you want to be together forever?" Spike asked, keeping his voice light. He dropped a kiss behind Connor's ear.
Connor turned the gas off and set the spatula on the stovetop. "I wouldn't be me anymore," Connor said.
"Sure you would," Spike replied. He wrapped both arms around Connor. "Nothing would change. Look at me."
*
147 days after Connor became a vampire, Angel found them in a New York loft. They were in the bedroom, fucking, Connor's face hidden in the pillows, his ass in the air, when Angel walked in.
Back in Los Angeles, the police were still searching for the serial killer of nine five-year-old boys who had all died while choking on their own organs.
Angel killed Connor first.