ATS/BTVS - Spike/Angel(us) - Love - Rated PG-16
Title: Love
Author: tamibrandt
Fandom: ATS/BTVS
Rating: PG-16
Charater(s)/Pairing: Spike/Angel(us)
Summary: Takes place between CHOSEN and CONVICTION
Warnings: Spoiler for the end of CHOSEN and the end of CONVICTION, REPRISE, LULLABY, HOME, language
Notes: Beta'd by Myself, lexa4227
Word Count: 1,151
Written for 10_hurt_comfort
My Table Here
Angel was sitting alone in his office staring out the window. Brand new, shiny thirtieth floor office. The wall behind the desk was big enough to display all of his most-prized weapons.
Maybe when he was thinking about this move to take over Wolfram and Hart, he wasn’t thinking clearly. They all had been corrupt at one time or another in their lives. Now, they were running a corrupt law firm. That represented the worst evil on the planet and three dimensions. That had spent years trying to drive him around the bend. Now, he was CEO of the bane of his existence. How ironic was that?
So, what had made him decide this course of action and essentially sign his soul over to the devil . . . again? (The first time being when he agreed to let Darla show him her world and turn him into a vampire.) There were two very obvious reasons and one hidden one.
First, Connor; they had agreed to help his son by erasing his memories and those of his friends; to give him a better life. He was the only one allowed to keep the memories of his son. He wasn’t so sure that was good thing. They were just another torment, another thing in his life that he fucked up and could now brood over.
Second, Cordelia: they agreed to give her the best care that a coma patient could ever possibly get with no concern over money. Cordelia. She stood by him for 4 years. She had picked up where Doyle left off and made sure that he stuck to his path towards redemption. And, look where it that path led him . . . he was CEO of the very company he had spent years trying to put a stop to harming the innocent and not quite innocent.
Lastly, there was Spike. The blonde had been everything to him. His childe, his lover, and the thorn in his side . . . he was everything Angelus had taught him to be and more. He had a poet’s heart. He kept his humanity. It was something Angel could never break him of. Even when Spike was evil, he wasn’t entirely evil. Not like the rest of the family.
Spike was his balance. He made unlife worth living and a constant surprise. Nothing was evil, mundane or still when his childe was around. Wasn’t that what drew people to him? Was that what drew Buffy to him? Meeting Spike would change a person’s life forever. Even though he was dead, he was still very much alive. He never skulked in the shadows or brooded. The blonde had taken the world by the balls and yanked hard and loved every minute of it. All that hurricane-force passion and liveliness was gone now. Spike was a shooting star that zoomed across the sky, blazing the brightest trail before snuffing out.
Angel felt completely empty now. It wasn’t the same emptiness he felt when he fucked Darla a few years ago. It felt like a hole was torn out of his insides when he felt Spike go. He really hadn’t thought about what would happen when he had given that amulet to Buffy. He hadn’t thought that Spike would essentially commit suicide with it to close the Hellmouth and effectively turn Sunnydale into a crater. When it did happen, it was gut wrenching for him. The loss of his boy had ripped right through him.
He had lain in bed curled in on himself and cried for the loss. He actually cried for Spike. A hundred and thirty years of blood bond. A hundred and thirty years of history. Of pain and sorrow. Of love and jealousy. Of want and take. Of owning and denouncing. Of denial and betrayal. Of unspoken love so strong that even the hate was merely desperate longing.
It was all memory he shared with himself now. Wes, Gunn and Fred would never and could never understand what he felt for Spike. They just thought him a soulless demon. Wes was still very much a Watcher even if he no longer worked for the Council. He still had a mindset that someone like Spike had no emotion and should be destroyed. Gunn thought along those lines as well. Fred would give him the benefit of the doubt before staking him. But, none of them knew what Spike, William the Bloody, was really like; the true passion that drove him. Drusilla may have chosen him to be her knight, but he was Angel’s boy through and through.
He always knew he could survive knowing that Spike was somewhere in the world undead and well. He had thought losing Buffy when she died had been the worst thing. Then he thought losing Connor to Holtz and Darla’s death was the worst he’d ever see. Then he thought Cordy’s coma had topped it all. But, his true guiding light, the real reason for going on was Spike. He thought they had more time to work out the big differences that separated them. He thought they had forever. He never thought forever had such a short span of time.
Angel threw back a glass of his best Irish whiskey and trudged to the elevator. When it stopped at his penthouse, he stripped down to nothing and crawled into bed. Reaching over, he grabbed a pillow and curled himself around it, hoping to dream of Spike on last time.
**************************
Wolfram and Hart, The Following Week
Fred looked around at the rest of the gang. “Is this going to be our lives now? Fighting our own employees, our own clients? Are we really going to do any good?”
Angel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, we are. We're going to change things. We came to Wolfram and Hart because it's a powerful weapon, and we'll figure out how to wield it.”
“Or kill ourselves with it,” Wes said dryly.
“Yay, team,” Fred said flatly.
“No, sooner or later they'll tip their hand, and we'll find out why they really brought us here.” He picked up an envelope from his desk. “Meanwhile, we do the work . . . our way, one thing at a time.” He ripped the envelope open. “We deal . . .” an amulet fell out of the envelope, “with whatever comes next.”
Immediately, the amulet activated. A black whirlwind erupted from it, causing papers on Angel's desk to stir. The ashen whirlwind started to glow with flecks of orange as something began to materialize inside it. A man's skeletal form developed and then gradually filled out until it finished. The wind faded and Spike was standing there, screaming and grunting, in the middle of the office, right where the amulet fell.
“Aah!” Spike yelled as he doubled over in pain, panting, glaring ferociously.
“Spike?” Wes inquired softly.
“Oh God! Spike!” Angel echoed in shock.
Author: tamibrandt
Fandom: ATS/BTVS
Rating: PG-16
Charater(s)/Pairing: Spike/Angel(us)
Summary: Takes place between CHOSEN and CONVICTION
Warnings: Spoiler for the end of CHOSEN and the end of CONVICTION, REPRISE, LULLABY, HOME, language
Notes: Beta'd by Myself, lexa4227
Word Count: 1,151
Written for 10_hurt_comfort
My Table Here
Angel was sitting alone in his office staring out the window. Brand new, shiny thirtieth floor office. The wall behind the desk was big enough to display all of his most-prized weapons.
Maybe when he was thinking about this move to take over Wolfram and Hart, he wasn’t thinking clearly. They all had been corrupt at one time or another in their lives. Now, they were running a corrupt law firm. That represented the worst evil on the planet and three dimensions. That had spent years trying to drive him around the bend. Now, he was CEO of the bane of his existence. How ironic was that?
So, what had made him decide this course of action and essentially sign his soul over to the devil . . . again? (The first time being when he agreed to let Darla show him her world and turn him into a vampire.) There were two very obvious reasons and one hidden one.
First, Connor; they had agreed to help his son by erasing his memories and those of his friends; to give him a better life. He was the only one allowed to keep the memories of his son. He wasn’t so sure that was good thing. They were just another torment, another thing in his life that he fucked up and could now brood over.
Second, Cordelia: they agreed to give her the best care that a coma patient could ever possibly get with no concern over money. Cordelia. She stood by him for 4 years. She had picked up where Doyle left off and made sure that he stuck to his path towards redemption. And, look where it that path led him . . . he was CEO of the very company he had spent years trying to put a stop to harming the innocent and not quite innocent.
Lastly, there was Spike. The blonde had been everything to him. His childe, his lover, and the thorn in his side . . . he was everything Angelus had taught him to be and more. He had a poet’s heart. He kept his humanity. It was something Angel could never break him of. Even when Spike was evil, he wasn’t entirely evil. Not like the rest of the family.
Spike was his balance. He made unlife worth living and a constant surprise. Nothing was evil, mundane or still when his childe was around. Wasn’t that what drew people to him? Was that what drew Buffy to him? Meeting Spike would change a person’s life forever. Even though he was dead, he was still very much alive. He never skulked in the shadows or brooded. The blonde had taken the world by the balls and yanked hard and loved every minute of it. All that hurricane-force passion and liveliness was gone now. Spike was a shooting star that zoomed across the sky, blazing the brightest trail before snuffing out.
Angel felt completely empty now. It wasn’t the same emptiness he felt when he fucked Darla a few years ago. It felt like a hole was torn out of his insides when he felt Spike go. He really hadn’t thought about what would happen when he had given that amulet to Buffy. He hadn’t thought that Spike would essentially commit suicide with it to close the Hellmouth and effectively turn Sunnydale into a crater. When it did happen, it was gut wrenching for him. The loss of his boy had ripped right through him.
He had lain in bed curled in on himself and cried for the loss. He actually cried for Spike. A hundred and thirty years of blood bond. A hundred and thirty years of history. Of pain and sorrow. Of love and jealousy. Of want and take. Of owning and denouncing. Of denial and betrayal. Of unspoken love so strong that even the hate was merely desperate longing.
It was all memory he shared with himself now. Wes, Gunn and Fred would never and could never understand what he felt for Spike. They just thought him a soulless demon. Wes was still very much a Watcher even if he no longer worked for the Council. He still had a mindset that someone like Spike had no emotion and should be destroyed. Gunn thought along those lines as well. Fred would give him the benefit of the doubt before staking him. But, none of them knew what Spike, William the Bloody, was really like; the true passion that drove him. Drusilla may have chosen him to be her knight, but he was Angel’s boy through and through.
He always knew he could survive knowing that Spike was somewhere in the world undead and well. He had thought losing Buffy when she died had been the worst thing. Then he thought losing Connor to Holtz and Darla’s death was the worst he’d ever see. Then he thought Cordy’s coma had topped it all. But, his true guiding light, the real reason for going on was Spike. He thought they had more time to work out the big differences that separated them. He thought they had forever. He never thought forever had such a short span of time.
Angel threw back a glass of his best Irish whiskey and trudged to the elevator. When it stopped at his penthouse, he stripped down to nothing and crawled into bed. Reaching over, he grabbed a pillow and curled himself around it, hoping to dream of Spike on last time.
**************************
Wolfram and Hart, The Following Week
Fred looked around at the rest of the gang. “Is this going to be our lives now? Fighting our own employees, our own clients? Are we really going to do any good?”
Angel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, we are. We're going to change things. We came to Wolfram and Hart because it's a powerful weapon, and we'll figure out how to wield it.”
“Or kill ourselves with it,” Wes said dryly.
“Yay, team,” Fred said flatly.
“No, sooner or later they'll tip their hand, and we'll find out why they really brought us here.” He picked up an envelope from his desk. “Meanwhile, we do the work . . . our way, one thing at a time.” He ripped the envelope open. “We deal . . .” an amulet fell out of the envelope, “with whatever comes next.”
Immediately, the amulet activated. A black whirlwind erupted from it, causing papers on Angel's desk to stir. The ashen whirlwind started to glow with flecks of orange as something began to materialize inside it. A man's skeletal form developed and then gradually filled out until it finished. The wind faded and Spike was standing there, screaming and grunting, in the middle of the office, right where the amulet fell.
“Aah!” Spike yelled as he doubled over in pain, panting, glaring ferociously.
“Spike?” Wes inquired softly.
“Oh God! Spike!” Angel echoed in shock.