ATS/BTVS - Spike/Angel(us) - Drunk - Rated G
Title: Drunk
Author: tamibrandt
Fandom: ATS/BTVS
Rating: G
Charater(s)/Pairing: Spike/Angel(us)
Summary: Takes place during Spike reads poetry to a bar full of drunks in NOT FADE AWAY
Warnings: Spoiler for NOT FADE AWAY
Notes: Beta'd by Myself, lexa4227, kateyes085
Word Count: 1,189
Written for 10_hurt_comfort
My Table Here
I'm going to take my time
I have all the time in the world
to make you mine
it is written in the stars above
the gods decree
you'll be right here by my side
right next to me
you can run, but you cannot hide
Don't say you want me
don't say you need me
don't say you love me
it's understood
don't say you're happy
out there without me
I know you can't be
'cause it's no good
I'll be fine
I'll be waiting patiently
till you see the signs
and come running to my open arms
when will you realize
do we have to wait till our worlds collide
open up your eyes
you can't turn back the tide
-- It’s No Good, Depeche Mode
Spike sat at the bar drinking. He had just finished his recitation of poetry to a motley crowd of other drunks and received standing ovations for it. This is more than he ever got from his peers when he was human. He felt good about himself, though Angel would probably be surprised that he did it as a “last thing to do before the final fight”. He could just imagine what his Sire would expect of him: fists and fangs. But, William wanted one last hurrah before the end.
Now that it was over, now that he had recited every bad poem he had ever painstakingly written, there was nothing left to do. In exactly 26 hours, he would either be dust or survive a hell of their own making when they commenced going up against the Senior Partners. Spike chuckled mirthlessly. Angel had big brass balls if nothing else, he gave him that.
Spike had been drinking for the last . . . five hours he supposed, and he was just now starting to feel the light buzz. Bloody vampire constitution. He turned on the barstool and eyed the women in the room. None of them looked remotely appealing. Buffy had seemed to raise his standards where women were concerned. Okay, so Harmony wasn’t the best choice when one became solid and needed to test the equipment out, but what’s a bloke to do? He only fucked Harmony because he knew that in some way it would irritate Angel.
He had spent his whole unlife trying to forget his Sire, too upset with him to forgive him for leaving him and Drusilla with Darla. Then when they met up in Sunnydale, Angelus just wasn’t the same. He was crueler, if that was even possible. He supposed he despised the souled version for that.
You asked for a soul. I didn't! It almost killed me.
Angel’s words echoed in his mind. Maybe he had been unfair in his dealings with the souled version of his Sire. If he really thought about it, he didn’t ask Darla for the gypsy girl that led to his curse. He was all about venting his rage and frustration and since Angelus wasn’t there, Angel got the brunt of it.
You spent three weeks moaning in a basement, and then you were fine!
It’s been two years since he received his soul. Angel was wrong though. He wasn’t fine. Two years and he still had the nightmares. He can put up a brave front in front of Angel’s avengers, but alone in his dank apartment, when Doyle - Lindsey - wasn’t pestering him with a fake destiny; the victims still crept in to torture him. Angel had a century of practice in dealing with the faces and what he had done to them. Spike’s soul was still gnawing at him.
Oh well, in another 24 hours that won’t matter will it? Because this idea of Angel’s to take on the Senior Partners may very well end his existence for good - and wasn’t it ironic that he would die alongside the same person - thing - that brought him into this world?
“Spike?”
Speaking of . . . look who’s shown up.
“Peaches! Come for a drink?”
“This is how you spent your last day, drinking?”
“Nothing else to do, mate. What did you expect? That I would hop the company jet and fly over to see Buffy?”
“No.”
“Well, I wouldn’t. She’s over me . . . us. Probably better off mourning our dust than finding out we’re alive and losing us all over again when this idea of yours ends up killing us all.”
“Spike, she was above both of us.”
“See, now you can afford to say that. You were her great hero. Every man she ever met was measured up against you . . . including me. She didn’t love me. I was a connection to you and she used me.”
“That’s not true. She loved you in the end. She told me that when I gave her the amulet.”
Spike scoffed. “I doubt that mate. Buffy Summers saying she loved William the Bloody? Highly unlikely if you ask me.”
“She didn’t say she loved William the Bloody --”
“Ha! Told you!”
“She said you as Spike were in her heart.”
Spike sloshed back his drink and slammed the glass down on the bar to get the bartender’s attention for another one. “Lot of good that did me. She told me she loved me and then pranced off to Rome with the Immortal! For once I want something that is mine.”
“Buffy wasn’t mine!”
“The bloody hell she wasn’t! You’re the exalted hero! Even as Angelus you could do no wrong in her eyes. I,” Spike pounded his chest, “was evil and chipped and I fought by her side, helped her, got a soul for her, and sacrificed myself for her and I still get the shaft. Meanwhile you take over Evil, Inc. . . .”
“Spike you’re drunk and not making sense. I’m cutting you off.”
“Sod off, Angelus.”
“Okay, let’s go. Get up,” Angel urged as he stepped away to allow room for Spike to stand.
“’m only doing this because I want to not cause you forced me to stop drinking.”
“Gotcha, only leaving the bar of your own free will,” Angel confirmed.
Although Spike was a belligerent drunk in speech, he still had a purposeful stride in his walk. Anyone watching the two vampires walk down the sidewalk would see that they were perfectly matched from the tandem steps to the way they carried themselves. Two vampires who held command over the night with their demeanor . . . one last time. Who knew what tomorrow would bring?
Angel led Spike into his penthouse apartment and offered the couch. Spike took his duster off and lay down. Looking up at his Sire, he gave a little boy smile. “Thanks, Angel.”
“For what?”
“Turning me and letting me live this long. I’ve seen and done more in my life than I ever thought possible. I lived a full life because of you. You and I have come full circle. I like that, it seems fitting.” Spike looked up at Angel, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Are you mine, Angel? Were you ever?”
“Yes, Spike, ’til the end of the world,” Angel said solemnly.
Author: tamibrandt
Fandom: ATS/BTVS
Rating: G
Charater(s)/Pairing: Spike/Angel(us)
Summary: Takes place during Spike reads poetry to a bar full of drunks in NOT FADE AWAY
Warnings: Spoiler for NOT FADE AWAY
Notes: Beta'd by Myself, lexa4227, kateyes085
Word Count: 1,189
Written for 10_hurt_comfort
My Table Here
I'm going to take my time
I have all the time in the world
to make you mine
it is written in the stars above
the gods decree
you'll be right here by my side
right next to me
you can run, but you cannot hide
Don't say you want me
don't say you need me
don't say you love me
it's understood
don't say you're happy
out there without me
I know you can't be
'cause it's no good
I'll be fine
I'll be waiting patiently
till you see the signs
and come running to my open arms
when will you realize
do we have to wait till our worlds collide
open up your eyes
you can't turn back the tide
-- It’s No Good, Depeche Mode
Spike sat at the bar drinking. He had just finished his recitation of poetry to a motley crowd of other drunks and received standing ovations for it. This is more than he ever got from his peers when he was human. He felt good about himself, though Angel would probably be surprised that he did it as a “last thing to do before the final fight”. He could just imagine what his Sire would expect of him: fists and fangs. But, William wanted one last hurrah before the end.
Now that it was over, now that he had recited every bad poem he had ever painstakingly written, there was nothing left to do. In exactly 26 hours, he would either be dust or survive a hell of their own making when they commenced going up against the Senior Partners. Spike chuckled mirthlessly. Angel had big brass balls if nothing else, he gave him that.
Spike had been drinking for the last . . . five hours he supposed, and he was just now starting to feel the light buzz. Bloody vampire constitution. He turned on the barstool and eyed the women in the room. None of them looked remotely appealing. Buffy had seemed to raise his standards where women were concerned. Okay, so Harmony wasn’t the best choice when one became solid and needed to test the equipment out, but what’s a bloke to do? He only fucked Harmony because he knew that in some way it would irritate Angel.
He had spent his whole unlife trying to forget his Sire, too upset with him to forgive him for leaving him and Drusilla with Darla. Then when they met up in Sunnydale, Angelus just wasn’t the same. He was crueler, if that was even possible. He supposed he despised the souled version for that.
You asked for a soul. I didn't! It almost killed me.
Angel’s words echoed in his mind. Maybe he had been unfair in his dealings with the souled version of his Sire. If he really thought about it, he didn’t ask Darla for the gypsy girl that led to his curse. He was all about venting his rage and frustration and since Angelus wasn’t there, Angel got the brunt of it.
You spent three weeks moaning in a basement, and then you were fine!
It’s been two years since he received his soul. Angel was wrong though. He wasn’t fine. Two years and he still had the nightmares. He can put up a brave front in front of Angel’s avengers, but alone in his dank apartment, when Doyle - Lindsey - wasn’t pestering him with a fake destiny; the victims still crept in to torture him. Angel had a century of practice in dealing with the faces and what he had done to them. Spike’s soul was still gnawing at him.
Oh well, in another 24 hours that won’t matter will it? Because this idea of Angel’s to take on the Senior Partners may very well end his existence for good - and wasn’t it ironic that he would die alongside the same person - thing - that brought him into this world?
“Spike?”
Speaking of . . . look who’s shown up.
“Peaches! Come for a drink?”
“This is how you spent your last day, drinking?”
“Nothing else to do, mate. What did you expect? That I would hop the company jet and fly over to see Buffy?”
“No.”
“Well, I wouldn’t. She’s over me . . . us. Probably better off mourning our dust than finding out we’re alive and losing us all over again when this idea of yours ends up killing us all.”
“Spike, she was above both of us.”
“See, now you can afford to say that. You were her great hero. Every man she ever met was measured up against you . . . including me. She didn’t love me. I was a connection to you and she used me.”
“That’s not true. She loved you in the end. She told me that when I gave her the amulet.”
Spike scoffed. “I doubt that mate. Buffy Summers saying she loved William the Bloody? Highly unlikely if you ask me.”
“She didn’t say she loved William the Bloody --”
“Ha! Told you!”
“She said you as Spike were in her heart.”
Spike sloshed back his drink and slammed the glass down on the bar to get the bartender’s attention for another one. “Lot of good that did me. She told me she loved me and then pranced off to Rome with the Immortal! For once I want something that is mine.”
“Buffy wasn’t mine!”
“The bloody hell she wasn’t! You’re the exalted hero! Even as Angelus you could do no wrong in her eyes. I,” Spike pounded his chest, “was evil and chipped and I fought by her side, helped her, got a soul for her, and sacrificed myself for her and I still get the shaft. Meanwhile you take over Evil, Inc. . . .”
“Spike you’re drunk and not making sense. I’m cutting you off.”
“Sod off, Angelus.”
“Okay, let’s go. Get up,” Angel urged as he stepped away to allow room for Spike to stand.
“’m only doing this because I want to not cause you forced me to stop drinking.”
“Gotcha, only leaving the bar of your own free will,” Angel confirmed.
Although Spike was a belligerent drunk in speech, he still had a purposeful stride in his walk. Anyone watching the two vampires walk down the sidewalk would see that they were perfectly matched from the tandem steps to the way they carried themselves. Two vampires who held command over the night with their demeanor . . . one last time. Who knew what tomorrow would bring?
Angel led Spike into his penthouse apartment and offered the couch. Spike took his duster off and lay down. Looking up at his Sire, he gave a little boy smile. “Thanks, Angel.”
“For what?”
“Turning me and letting me live this long. I’ve seen and done more in my life than I ever thought possible. I lived a full life because of you. You and I have come full circle. I like that, it seems fitting.” Spike looked up at Angel, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Are you mine, Angel? Were you ever?”
“Yes, Spike, ’til the end of the world,” Angel said solemnly.