Giles leaned against the open patio door and watched the sunset from his seventeenth story view on the east end. The large balcony had an iron case patio set that was frequently used by both himself and his roommate, Spike.
The warm color of red, yellow and orange cast a breathtaking picture and Giles sighed as he lit his fag and drank in the sight.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he whispered as he stood up straight and walked over the vampire sitting down silently taking everything in.
Spike remained silent beside him as Giles watched the color change from light to dark. It had become a ritual between the two friends to watch each sunset together in silence. Before Spike had moved in Giles had never appreciated the sunset before. He, like all people, took the beauty of the sun for granted. Being around Spike’s silent worship of the light had made Giles become more appreciative of the world around him.
For the next twenty minutes the two British men sat there smoking their fags as they watched the warm colors shine on the world below them. Giles from time to time would turn to look at his friend. It was at these moments Giles was always reminded that this man that sat next to him had lost the sun for two hundred years. He could see as the warm color graced a glow on Spike’s handsome face that the vampire looked even younger then he usually did. It was in this small moments each day that Giles could swear he actually saw Spike’s soul.
Spike kept his eyes open through it all, never looking away from the view and Giles reached out and touched Spike’s hand. He squeezed it once before letting go. Spike knew as well as Giles did that their friendship was a first for both of them and in these tiny moments Giles knew he was blessed.
When the final bit of red disappeared and the world became dark and blue, Spike turned to his friend and cleared his throat before speaking.
“Thank you, Giles,” he said standing up and walking over to the patio door.
Giles furrowed his brow and turned to the vampire, “for what?” he asked.
Spike stopped but kept his back to his dear friend, “for being the only person in my existence to share beauty with me in silence.”
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Angel looked out the widow as he rubbed his large hand on the back of his neck. His face forever frozen at the age of twenty five looked more like forty five as he looked back at the files in front of him.
He had just had a long meeting with Duke Alpart, a high demon lord of the Desucka clan and as always he felt emotional drained.
What was he doing here, in this evil company that traded favors with the devil for a slice of power? Was he anything more than another clone of Lucifer? Was he making any changes at all in this place?
He felt so lost.
Angel sighed in frustration and pushed the files away in disgusted. His office felt like a tomb and for the first time in Angel’s existence he felt Closter phobic. Even being in that metal coffin under the sea hadn’t compared to the closed in feeling he felt at this moment.
‘What am I doing here?’ He asked himself as he got up from his office chair and stared out the window.
I need to get out.
He felt a dread course through him and had to force himself from not jumping out the window to meet the sun.
“Angel,” he heard someone say quietly behind him. He turned around to see Wesley standing by the door watching him with concern.
“Yes, Wes, what is it?” he asked stuffing his shaky hands in his pocket in attempt to appear calm.
Wesley took a step forward and tilted his head as he silently examined his boss.
“You ok?” he asked moving into Angel’s personal space and touching the vampire’s shoulder. The gentle touch broke down all Angel’s walls and he leaned into the touch.
“What are we doing here, Wes?” he asked his eyes closed as he tried desperately to feel the warmth of that touch through his whole body.
Wesley nodded his head and understood immediately what the vampire was saying.
“We’re working within the system to stop what we can’t outside of it.” He said keeping his hand on Angel’s shoulder.
Angel snorted, “Yeah, sounds good on paper but…”he said trailing off.
Wes nodded his head as he took a step away and sat on the large leather chair beside him.
“We are doing some good here, Angel,” he said opening his briefcase and looking through his files.
“Really,” Angel said raising an eyebrow, “because I don’t see it.”
Wesley nodded slowly and brought out a deep red folder from his brief case, “Angel, sit down,” he said pointing to the chair next to him.
Angel slowly sat down looking at the folder questioningly.
Wesley opened the folder and looked at it with a small smile on his face, “Since we have been here I have been filling this folder with letters,” he said as he handed it to Angel.
“Letters,” Angel asked as he took the red folder and looked at the first page inside.
Taped to the side of the letter was a picture of a young five year old girl smiling as she tugged on one of her bright blond pigtails. She reminded Angel for a brief moment of a tiny Buffy.
It was dated two months ago and on the top of the letter written in bright blue crayon were the words.
‘Angel, My Hero.’
Angel looked up at Wes with a question in his eyes.
“Remember two months ago when we stopped the massive ritual sacrifice that the Lucka Demons did every year by holding that meeting with their head leader.” Wes asked as he smiled down at the picture.
Angel slowly nodded as he vaguely remembered the meeting.
Wesley pointed to the little girl, “Her and her entire family was saved by that one meeting.” Wes said as he smiled up at Angel.
Angel looked back down at the young girl’s smiling face and couldn’t help the small trail of tears that fell from his dark brown eyes.
“It may seem like we’re doing nothing and that we have sold our souls but…Angel never forget.” Wes said as he took the folder and placed it on the vampire’s desk so Angel could look at it later.
“Don’t forget what, Wes?” he asked keeping his eyes on the deep red folder.
“That you’re a true hero,” Wes said as he stood up. He picked up his brief case and walked over to the office doors. He turned and smiled at his friend.
“And you’re mine too.” He said and then walked out; the reports he was going to hand in could wait.
Angel looked over at the folder and touched the top almost reverently. Maybe Wes was right, maybe they were doing some good here after all.
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