Series of Sp: Fourth Installment: History In The Past
by spikelover6661
To most, the night was cruel and forbearing. In California, the night winds were unbearable torture to the human body and in Sunnydale, California, rumor had it, night wasn’t the safest time to be out and about for anyone. No one was out on the streets when Officer Datona took her nightly sweep. The Bronze was closed so no kids were off getting intimate in dark alleyways. The Mayor had alerted the police to an escaped convict who looked very much like a bleach bottle blonde punk rocker and was known as Spike. Officer Datona had been asked to search in populated areas and to call the Mayor’s officials if she thought she had located the man instead of handling the situation herself. Little known to Datona, Spike was only a few blocks away at the looming Gothic mansion owned by mysterious Mr. A.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Spike squinted, looking in between the planks of wood nailed over the non existent doorway. Spike presumed Angel had done something horribly good to get his glass doorway blasted off. Spike stared at Angel, holding a book in one hand. Spike had never been the reading type. It was a waste of his time to get engrossed in something that was completely unreal. He had his own buggering life to worry about.

Spike felt the fury he had battled to surpress roaring inside him. Angel was too shut ot to sense his childe’s presence. Had he been so completely shunned from the fold that he couldn’t feel Spike fill his head like he used to?

“I can feel you, you know, Spike.” Angel’s cool, smooth voice shot through Spike like an arrow.

“Nice to see your instincts aren’t rusty, mate. Care for some company?” Spike didn’t bother to let the blighter answer. Angel shut his book and laid down on the foot stones of the fireplace.

“Not yours, Spike. I could never care for yours. What do you want? And make it quick. I’m not here to play ‘Tickle The Spike Until He Decides He’s Had Enough And Wants To Play The Real Game’.” Angel gave Spike a near fatherly look, hands on hips, jaw firmly set, eyes blazing.

“Oh, but here I thought I was our favorite, Peaches. Spoil my evening, you say.” Spike plopped himself down on the sofa and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, beaming.

“What do you want?” Angel strode over and knocked Spike’s feet from the table, launching a cloud of unsettled dust into the air.

“To see you , Peaches. It’s all for you.”

“Spike get out. I’m not going to spend my time catering to your sick amusement. Get out before I jam a pointy wooden stake up your ass.”

“If memory serves me correctly, that’s not the only think you’d have ‘jammed up my arse’ now is it?”

“Don’t you start-” Angel’s face became more embarrassed than appalled. He swung his arm around to point at Spike. Spike stuck out his tongue and held his arms over his head.

“I surrender! And I didn’t ‘start’. I was merely remembering how you so enjoyed being a creature of sexual violence all those years ago.”

“That’s right. All those years ago. Get out now. I think you know where the exit is. Go there.”

“Sorry, Peaches. I just got comfy.”

“Fine, I’m not going to argue. And stop calling me that.” Angel finally swallowed his pride and took a seat next to Spike. He was rigid, restrained, and uncomfortable.

“Relax, Angel cakes. I don’t bite.”

“Yes, you do, as a matter of fact.”

“Well, I’m bloody well not going to bit you. The taste of your blood in my mouth is enough to make me stake myself.”

“Glad to hear it. Can I help you in any way with that?”

“No need to get cute/”

“Get cute? Who’s getting cute? I’m not getting cute!” Angel leapt up, causing Spike to give a deep, throaty chuckle that sent a pleasant tingling sensation down Angel’s spine.

“What’s getting your thong all in a bunch, love? One would think you’re treating this as more than a social call.”

“Social call? You’re hitting on me, Spike!” Spike blinked in surprise and turned away to focus his attention on the crackling fire, shame burning in his eyes as high as the raging flames in the fire. “You *are*, *aren’t* you?”

“No! No! I bloody well am not!” Spike stood up, teeth clashing together with a fury that would have caused a human’s teeth to all fall out.

“Then what the hell are you doing? Tell me!”

“I don’t... I don’t know, all right? It’s just so *confusing*! Being back here, seeing you. I tried to...”

“Tired to what?” Angel’s voice dropped all it’s former intensity and rewound the tone completely, comforting and soothing. he dared to take as step closer to Spike, who averted his gaze.

“Tried to tell you... For so long...” Angel took a few more steps, his comfort breathing picking up. He was so near panting, it wasn’t even funny. He felt like a little kid trying to get a virgin into his bed so he wouldn’t have to be a Virgin anymore.

“Tell me what, Spike?” he said breathlessly.

“I can’t... You’ll... I can’t...” Angel put his arms on Spike’s shoulders, staring at the blonde vampire so fixated on his boots.

“You can tell me anything, Spike. You can truest me.” Spike met the vampire’s chocolate eyes with his own icy blue ones and melted. He felt himself unwinding and spinning down and breaking apart so he was so far embedded in a place he didn’t want to go. Spike fell into Angel’s arms, head against his chest, sobbing. Angel was so lost, but he rocked the young vampire in his arms, holding back his own tears. “What’s wrong?”

“I l-love you, Ang-Angel. I a-always h-have, b-but I’d n-never t-tell you.” Angel found his words somehow unsurprising. He rocked Spike, held his thickly gelled head in his hand and turned the poor lost soul’s face up to look at his. Angel leaned in, fingers upturning Spike’s face, and pressed his lips against Spike’s. The two met like water over ice, crackling and shrinking then rising and chilling. Angel found himself bringing unkempered heat into the situation, moving his hands to Spike’s hips. There was nothing either one of them could do. Fate had brought them together and only fate could tear them apart.
*~*~*~*~*~*

Angel blinked, horrified at the thought of what had happened. He had completely lost his mind. He tugged the blankets from the curled up body of Spike to cover his naked body only to discover Spike’s naked body as well. ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God. Clothes, must find clothes.’ Angel threw on his pants and long sleeved shirt then grabbed Spike’s pants. He turned over Spike’s body. Vampires were truly dead in their sleep and awfully hard to wake up. Angel picked up his legs and shimmied his pants up, buttoning and zipping them at the top. He then lifted the vampire to a sort of droopy sitting position and tugged his super tight back shirt black T-Shirt over his well toned chest. He then shook on his red, button, long sleeved shirt, stood him up, put on his boots and duster and admired the sleeping beauty. Angel did love Spike. He knew. Somewhere he knew he always had. Spike was a better person when Angel was around, but Angel couldn’t be around. Spike and Angel weren’t meant for each other because Angel didn’t feel good. Angel didn’t feel happy like he used about sharing intimacy with Spike and that meant Spike had to move on. He head to forgive and forget whatever history he had with Angel or Angelus.

Angel gave Spike and kiss on the forehead and shoved him out the doorway. He flopped and fell on the flower bed, sound asleep still. “I love you, William.”

The End.

Author’s Note: Feel free to spank me or praise me for that, just tell me what you thought and I will be forever grateful. *bows*

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