To Lynx, because she's given me such precious lines to steal about Angel and Spike. Like, "Well, neither of them are really mentally stable."

motherfuckers on the fence

 

Night number three of this headache called Slayer fun. I'm still unsure what to do about her, I'm still not sure how to kill everyone that is just itching to die, I don't know what that damned necklace even looks like... and Dru is still nowhere to be found. I must have done something wrong, somewhere, to deserve this.

What a surprise. The world's a bastard.

It's Thursday, and I have a bad feeling about what's going on in the air. I have an appointment to keep with a Slayerette, and I have too much time on my hands, and I have a mystery to solve.

What the fuck was Dru talking about, anyway?

I'm sitting on my favorite tombstone; I've gotten to know it quite well, lately. There's so much always going on in the graveyard, and I meet so many people here lately. In the distance, I see someone rising out of the ground, and feel a nostalgic glow. It's been ages since I've made anyone. Shame. But each time I sit here, wearing down a little more stone with my buttcheeks, I feel that little flame of remembrance, the way I was rekindled.

That was so far back in the day. I drop the memory, in favor of focusing on my senses in the here and now. The vamp that just rose, also just bit the dust. Oh, well. Someone's out slaying tonight. I'm feeling my ass on the cold stone, and wishing that I actually had blood moving in my veins if it would warm up the flesh. Course, I could set fire to a few trees, start a nice cozy little bonfire.

I'm actually gathering the leaves into a big pile with my boot when a voice snipes at me from behind. "Oh, this is rich."

And I think to myself quite succinctly, No. Fucking. Way.

I turn around on my makeshift seat, facing the grave instead of the rest of the graveyard, and Angel smiles at me. "When Buffy called me and told me she needed a favor, I said yes. Of course." He comes into the light, getting closer to me, and adds, "Then I heard what it was."

If there's any way I could get away with killing him... no, I probably still wouldn't. There's too much at stake between us - no pun intended - and between all these other threads I'm hanging onto. Soon, yeah, but right now, he's gotta live the life of the righteous undead. But I can dream. I can close my eyes, picture myself walking away right now, just give it up and--

Cut off all my access and all my contacts. There's no way I can give up Sunnydale yet. I still can't bite anyone. I take a drag on my cigarette, and scowl some more. I say, "Oh, like I'm happy about this, myself."

He throws up his hands, then folds them over his chest in a position I recognize all too well. In a sarcastic voice, he answers, "Course you are, Spike!"

There's the Angelus I remember. Minus some nasty habits, and the blood dripping off his jaw, but I remember you. The one that always knows the best. The one that - I have to spend the rest of the night with. Oh, gorgeous. I'm wandering around with the only vampire with a soul, not able to eat anyone, and spying on ex-cons turned vampire just for kicks. This was really what I wanted to do tonight for fun.

Yeah, and the Civil war was really about slavery, and guess what? The IRA really just wanna be friends!

I flick my butt away, and narrowly miss the pile of orange and brown - mostly brown - by my feet. Shame, we almost had ourselves a bonfire after all. After just a moment of leering at him, and picturing the ways he would fit on a spike, I say, "No. I'm not."

Who wants to work with the disgruntled family, after all?

He shrugs again, looks away, and says, "Fine, whatever. So neither of us want to do this. Let's just get it over with so I can go back home."

"What? You've got a hot date waiting for you back in the wild urban jungle of L.A.?"

He shakes his head. "No."

Nancy-boy never has a date. He's mooning over the Slayer still. He's still looking at her face, wishing it was moaning below him, wishing it was turning, in the depths of his demon. And I'm - I don't finish that thought. I haven't had a date, or a good kill, in months, myself. I don't count Harmony as a good date. She's tofu between the ears and nothing but wet between the legs. He looks me up and down, and says low, "but at least I could get one."

He always did know the right buttons to press.

Bastard.

~

"Are you sure this is a better way in?"

"Shut. Up."

Nancy boy is starting to get on my nerves again - he can't seem to keep quiet for two minutes. And when he does talk, he has an attitude that looks down on the likes of me from ten stories up. At least when I could have killed the girl, we were equals - no. Not even then. Angelus, or Angel, or the raging blank of history that I can't ever seem to get rid of... or even Daddy, whatever you want to call him, he's never considered me his equal.

And he's sure not letting me forget it right now.

The only thing that's going my way is I haven't see Dru all night. I was afraid for a while that she might try and seek the two of us out, and that would spell disaster for one of three vampires, and probably all of us. Either Angel would dust her, and I'd have to try and stake him, or she'd stake him, and I'd have to try and explain it to the blond bitch, or I'd have to do some serious family cullings...

I'd make sure I ended up on top, but things wouldn't be pretty. To push my mental patter back on track, I ask him, "Angel. What do you do in LA, exactly?"

It's something to occupy the time while we sit on the roof and wait for our chance to get inside. He looks at me suspiciously. "Well... why?"

"I'm bored. And we have to wait until that van leaves to take it's shipment of drugs wherever it wants to go, anyway. So tell me a story."

I almost add, 'Daddy', but I think that would be taking it too far. He's just itching to off me, and I know the only thing holding him back is because he doesn't know the inside of this warehouse as well as I do... and the blond bitch asked him to play nice.

She's never any fun.

As I sit and listen to him try and not talk about his life - yeah, mate, when was the last time anyone actually listened to you? - images of death and destruction fly around in my head. I wonder what would have happened if Angelus had managed to actually kill the Slayer... what would have changed between us.

He wouldn't have been wanting to fuck my baby, that's for sure. He would have had a brand new toy to fuck with.

I'm startled when I realize that I could have fucked with her, and can still fuck with her, as completely as Angelus could have. I know all the tricks, I know what punches not to pull. I know I could be his equal, with her, if no other time. After all, he taught me everything I know.

But. She's still alive. And it's starting to get on my nerves.

~

There's a certain balance in social situations. Vampires, with their inherent lack of intelligence and planning ahead, tend to cross these boundaries on a daily basis. Humans, in a situation that requires no real social boundaries often find the same thing. Prison is one of those situations: the same rules don't apply.

I wonder if Adebisi sees any change in himself when he looks in the mirror, except for the fact that he can't see anything. Strange, that, I've met humans now that are as disgusting as some of the stupider vamps.

I wonder if I could hit them for fun. We'll have to see.

The van moves out, and he moves into the shadows. I follow him, then point to the large elevator shaft that used to haul the meat out of the freezer floor below, and up to the loading dock. We sneak past that idiot poetry boy, and onto the ground level of Adebisi's warren - the lab area.

Angel furrows his brows. "Who is this creep?"

"A chemist, you idiot. Who do you think?"

I find a stake hovering inches in front of my chest, and with a wrench I point it back against Angel, then have to drop it because of the blinding torment I'm assaulted with. It's not because of that chip - I just remember those days that went before. And a blond head that won't ever touch me if these hands are full of ash--

Christ in a sidecar, can't I get a bloody break?!

We both drop the piece of wood, and it clatters to the floor with a loud noise. Immediately, we look away from each other, and towards the rest of the people patrolling. If anyone heard that...

We're safe. Most of them are so high they wouldn't be able to see us even if they had their eyes open and trained on the entrance. We keep to the wall, behind the crates, and move over to the far side of the warehouse, behind all the drug shit. Angel's eyes widen more as he realize what's really going on, then scowls at me. "He has to be stopped."

I shrug, lean against a crate. "If you like." He gave me a tour of the place last night, Adebisi, did, so I know the ins and outs. 'To make you feel at home', he told me. I don't believe him for a second, but it seemed to be a prudent choice to bite my tongue and shut up at the time. Now, it means I can point, without hesitation, to the office that's been renovated into Adebisi's living space.

Though, living space is a relative term. Most things that go into it end up dead.

I heartily approve of that. I just don't know if I like the means. To Angel, I add, "And they'll probably be whacked out on drugs. That, or down at the zoo."

He looks at me blankly. "Zoo?"

I smile, seeing an opportunity to make him remember where he came from. "Remember that night that Dru wanted a pet, and there were no pigeons in the park, and Darla was so frustrated she almost broke bones, so you broke into the farmhouse and killed all the children, then took the dog? Kind of like that night, only change farmhouse to zoo, children to random tourists or zookeepers, and dog to anything with a pulse, fur, and four legs."

I didn't think he could get any paler than he was. At least I got that satisfaction. I kick away some newspaper, and shuffle my feet. "Let's go, though, eh? We're supposed to be on the side of good and all that shite. Find out what Mr. I Love Animals is up to."

~

We get back to my place, and there's a pissed off Slayer to give the finger. I get hit again for the gesture, though not very hard, and Angel takes the opportunity to try and run out.

I hear from her, "I don't think so."

Buffy hauls him back into the room with the force of her words, and grips him by the throat with her next sentence. "We have things to discuss, the three of us."

And when they wanted to execute me, I felt better about my chances.

Angel snarls, and tries to stare me down. I look away too easily, not giving him the satisfaction of a win - I'm bored with his presence, not cowed. She throws up her hands, and says, "Can we have a little less testosterone, here?"

The poof sits his ass down on my chair, and crosses his legs primly. "Fine. What do you need, so I can get away from him?"

Oh, and you've just been handing out tea and crumpets for the last two hundred and fifty years, mate.

She wants to know about the layout of the compound. How many vamps he's got in there. How many of them are more than cannon fodder. For the most part, I let nancy-boy tell the news. He likes this sort of thing. Makes him feel important. Makes him feel a part of the team again. Makes him--

"You should be able to hit it and get out tomorrow afternoon."

Whoa. This isn't part of the plan. I don't want them dead yet, because I haven't gotten what I wanted yet. And the novelty of another psychotic freak with enough intelligence to stay alive more than two nights hasn't worn off yet. Casually, as if I'm trying to offer a suggestion, I say, "Um, if I may. It might be advisable to wait, to see what kinds of back-up they can call."

She turns to face me, obviously not buying it, and I want to snarl back at the barely contained sneer on her face. "You and I have other business to discuss, Spike."

And when they wanted to execute me the second time, I felt a hell of a lot better about my chances.

Angel looks from her to me and back again, and the tension is so thick I'm almost hard with it. I let myself see what the three of us could have been like, together, just for a minute, what sorts of mayhem, and oh GOD, the sex...

Then I snort. "Well then. Angel has L.A. to get back to, and you and I have some things to hack it out about."

Only when Angel leaves the room do I let my body relax. One more moment and I would have spontaneously combusted. She turns to me, a dangerous gaze in her eyes. "I found Dru wandering around in the park tonight."

I briefly consider my career opportunities in the circus again.

She gets closer, spitting her words out like I've done her a grave insult. "I thought Dru was gone from Sunnydale. I thought the two of you were done!" I want, desperately, to ask her if she's jealous, but quench it when she grabs my by the back of the neck. "You knew she was back, didn't you?"

"I - no, Jesus! It's not like Dru and I are together anymore." I rub the back of my neck, happen to brush against her fingers still resting back there as a warning. "She wanted me to find some trinket for her. I don't know any details because - and I swear - she ran out on me again."

I know I'm pouting a little, but it's better than the sulking and moodiness of His Royal Highness, the king of poofs. She cocks her head to one side, and makes a sympathetic noise. "Aww. Spike's all alone again?"

Every fucking day, bitch, not that it's any of your concern.

When I don't answer, she tightens her grip. I suck in a hasty breath, and don't think about the sexual advances I could make. I could rock her world, not that she knows it. She asks, "She ran out, and you don't know any more?"

I shake my head. Maybe a lie will set her free... or me, but I keep my mouth shut. I'm done talking for now. I'm not going to give her any more than I have to.

Not unless she begs.

She lets go, but keeps her hand where it is. "You knew she was back in town, and yet you didn't mention it to us - even though we've got a thing going down."

She looks angry, and actually hurt... like she expected something from me. Maybe I'll give her something tomorrow, to make it up. Make her trust me. Maybe I'll tell her how to really get to Adebisi. As long as I keep O'Reily out of the way, from the looks of things, business will go down as usual, and I'll still have a secret weapon.

O'Reily's a motherfucker straddling one hell of a fence in his allegiances. I wanna shake that up a bit, and giving Mr. I Love Animals to her might do that. One of them will end up dead, and my money and my vote is split either way. It'll be something, at least.

Maybe I'll just give her the truth, and now. See how she handles it. "Okay! Maybe I did. But let me remind you. We're not on the same side, pet."

Or in the same bed.

 

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