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Tiana
Reviews: Yes and please and thank you.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the rights to Spike, Buffy or any other BTVS characters. But if anyone’s offering, I’ll take Spike.
Distribution: Just ask at tianabelle@hotmail.com
Summary: Set in the middle of Season 6. Spike's struggle to get a soul and Buffy's struggle to love him...with or without it...
Angel Investigations, basement
Angel pushes Spike ahead of him. "Sit down, Spike."
"Enough with the pushing, Peaches. I already said I’m not here to fight you."
"And you’ll just have to forgive me for not believing one thing you say, Spike. I’ve known you too long for that."
Spike flops down on an overstuffed chair. "Yeah, well, I’ve changed, alright. I mean, look at you, all broody and...good. YOU’ve changed. Why can’t I?"
Angel sighs, and takes a position opposite Spike, on the foot of his bed. "Can we cut through the crap and get to the point? We both know I’m different because of the soul. What are you doing here? And PLEASE don’t say you are here to ask for my help." Spike takes a sudden interest in his hands, fidgeting briefly. "You have got to be kidding."
"Well, see. The way I see it is this." Spike’s bottled-up energy propels him from the chair. He begins to pace back and forth. "You help people...you even help demons, sometimes, I wager. Not the point, though. I only need one thing from you."
"And I’m sure you’ve got some ‘bloody brilliant’ reason why I should give it to you?" drips Angel sarcastically.
Spike pauses in his pacing and grits his teeth. He sets his jaw and turns to Angel. "The fact of the matter is this, mate. I’m in love with Buffy. She says she can’t love me without a soul, so I’m looking to get one. And who better to ask than the Great Poof Avenger himself, eh?" Spike tries a smile, hoping it will keep Angel from attacking. Wrong.
*WHAM. CRACK!*
[ Cordelia lifts her head upstairs. "That’s more like it. It was getting kind of eerie down there." ]
Spike picks himself up from the floor, holding his head. He looks back to see that his flying body cracked the wall. He turns back in time to see Angel coming towards him, fast, game face on. The conflict is plain on the blond vamp’s face, as his demon fights to take over, ridges beginning at his forehead. Spike shakes his head, fighting back the transformation. "Hey, that last part was a joke, Peaches...trying to lighten the mood and all." He ducks, as Angel’s fist disappears into the wall. " If you’d just settle down..." Struggling to remove his left fist from the plaster, Angel swings with his right, just missing Spike, but succeeding in getting that one stuck in the wall, too. Spike ducks out and comes around the back of Angel, who is helpless to defend himself. He growls and thrashes as Spike circles behind him.
"Tut, tut. Quite the temper, Angelus. These old walls can’t take your little rages. " Spike decides to talk quickly, as Angel will definitely get his hands out soon. Very soon. "At least I’ve got your attention for now. I’m not making this up. I love the Slayer." A growl emanates from Angel. "She’s not your bloody girlfriend anymore, Angel! It’s not your right to protect her from any bloke that feels something for her." Pause. "Besides, I won’t hurt her. I won’t. I love her too much." Spike’s voice loses its usual cockiness, a change Angel seems to pick up. He’s quiet for a few seconds. Then, with one huge growl, he rips his hands and half the wall out to get free. He turns on Spike, expecting him to be standing there, glaring at him, looking all cocky. He couldn’t be more wrong. Spike is sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes on the floor. When he looks up, the pain in his blue eyes is a physical force, so strong it pushes Angel back a step. He shakes off the game face and just stares. Angel knows that look. He surely wore the same one when he walked out of Buffy’s life forever.
Angel pauses, trying to decide what to do with this Spike. He seems sincere, honest even. This is not the Spike he knew for a century. Could he really love Buffy? And if he does, could that love change him this much? He smiles the tiniest bit, well, it sure as hell had its effect on him. Angel reaches a tentative decision and takes a seat across from Spike. He leans his elbows on his knees, and his chin on his hands.
"Alright, Spike. I’m listening. For now. If I so much as smell betrayal on you or ANY clue that you are just trying to find a new way to hurt her, I will kill you without blinking and sweep the dust into the sewer."
Spike blinks. "Hmph. Reckon that’s a a big step for you, Peaches. Listening and all. The threatening to kill me, that I’m bloody well used to." Spike studies his hands for a minute, turning a silver ring around his thumb, collecting the thoughts that are threatening to tear him apart. Somehow, he wasn’t quite prepared for Angel to listen to him. Thought he might fight him, that Angel might let something slip he could use. Now the poofter was acting halfway civil to him. Vampire loving a slayer...The Slayer. Guess he can relate.
"Alright then, mate. The fact of the matter is, I love this girl. It came to me in a bleedin’ dream and woke me in a cold sweat. Sure as hell didn’t want to love her...wanted to kill her. But then again, love and death have always been bedmates for me."
Angel’s eyes narrow. "Down, down, Angelus. I don’t want to kill her anymore. Loving her...and having her return that love would be enough." Angel snorts. "I know, what the hell would a woman like Buffy do with an evil bloodsucking fiend, eh? That’s what I’m here for, though. I want to win her love, but first I have to win a soul."
"It’s not something you get at the carnival, Spike. You may recall the circumstances I got mine under."
"Yeah, yeah. But I don’t want to turn into another cursed wonderboy. What the hell would I want a soul for if I can’t....can’t..." Spike swallows as he sees Angel is not fond of the direction the conversation is taking. "...can’t talk about this with you."
He stands up and starts pacing again. "What was I thinking! Angelus is going to help ME get a soul. Help me get the love of a woman so incredible it burns me just to touch her. So strong she makes me want to..."
Spike trails off as he sees the muscles in Angel’s jaw twitching. "Listen, I’ve been all over, in every demon bar and hole in the wall in this town for four weeks. Been in plenty of bar fights and all I’ve been hearing is "Angel, Angel, Angel." You want a soul, better talk to Angel. You know better than anyone that I would just about rather stake myself than ask you for anything. But that’s how much I love her. I love her so..." Spike’s jaw clenches, "so damn much I am HERE. Here in front of my grandsire, asking for his help." Spike flops back on the bed, sure his staking is imminent.
Angel struggles in his mind with the choice in front of him. Helping Spike. Not at the top...or even bottom of his list of things to do. Help Spike get Buffy?! Never. But look at him, he’s suffering. Well, he deserves to suffer. He thinks of Spike and Dru together. When he loves someone, he loves them beyond all reason. Beyond all limitations. Buffy deserves that, even if it is Spike. He might just help her live beyond the typical Slayer lifespan. And with a soul, Spike will change. There’s no way Spike realizes what a soul will do to him, good and bad. The guilt... Angel realizes that if he helps Spike, he will have taken the bloodlust away from a killer and so, would be doing...a good thing? Angel sighs. What a position to be in. Without looking up, he says quietly, "I will help you." Spike bolts upright. "On ONE condition...."
"Name it."
"You’re going to have to sing..."
Spike blinks, cocks his head at Angel. Sounds like his grandsire has bloody well lost his mind.
"Sing? Bugger all, Angel, did you say I would have to SING? I don’t sing. Well, I did, but I won’t. Last time there was singing...that didn’t end too badly, now that I think about it. But anyway, what the hell are you going on about?" Spike is clearly agitated by this turn of events as he gestures wildly at Angel.
"Spike, settle down. You’re the one going on about it. I have a friend here - a demon. Name’s Lorne. He reads people when they sing. He also has some serious connections in the demon world, including ways to the Powers That Be. Powers that you will have to visit to have a chance at what you want."
Spike stops. "Powers that Be? Are these the nancies that have set you on your mission to save the world, strike against all evil and such rot? ‘Cause I’m NOT signing onto their little crew. I’m nobody’s ‘noble warrior.’ "
"Tell me about it, Spike. No, the Powers that Be are not that simple. I have no way of knowing if they will help you at all. Or what they will expect. Getting to them is in no way easy. And getting anything FROM them is even harder. But you said you loved her."
"Damn...well ... bloody... right... I do." Spike sets his jaw and his shoulders. "Let’s get on wit’ it, then. Where’s this Lorne?"
"Follow me." Angel and Spike return to the elevator and the lobby. Cordelia looks up, expecting Angel to be covered in Spike-dust or at least for someone to be bloodied up. When they both arrive intact, she returns to staring. They walk past her to the stairs of the hotel.
Spike leans over to Angel, "Something wrong with that girl? I don’t remember her being so quiet before. All screechy and loud, she was. Has she gone daft?"
Angel looks back at Cordy. "Nah, she just can’t believe you are still in one piece."
"Hey! Who’s to say it would be me torn apart ? I can take you in a fight, Peaches."
"Spike, can we stick to the subject here? Lorne! LORNE!! " Angel calls up the stairs and there are steps on the stairs above. Lorne reaches the landing in a yellow silk robe over his sky blue pajamas.
"Bless my stars and garters, tall dark and loud! Whatever is it? I was just going to have a soak. And who’s this? Friend of yours? Same sun allergy, I see."
"Lorne, this is Spike. Spike, Lorne." Spike nods to Lorne, still taking in the flamboyance of the green-skinned demon.
"Spike, it’s a pleasure. Or is it business? Angel?" Lorne comes all the way down the stairs, walks in front of Cordelia, snapping his fingers to bring her out of her staring stupor.
"Business. Sort of. Spike and I used to...well, kill together."
"Oh, THAT Spike. Heavens. Thought you two didn’t get on too well nowadays."
"We don’t. But I’ve decided we can help him. Just this once. Provided you don’t mind reading him? I need to know he is being truthful."
"’Ey, I told you..."
"Spike, you can’t be trusted and you know it. You’ll have to sing."
Spike mutters and kicks at the couch near him. "Better not be some poofter song or I won’t do it."
"Bloody, lorry and lift, your accent is to die for, Spike! Let’s go pick a song, shall we?" Lorne, unfazed by the tension in the air, takes Spike by the arm and drags him into the next room where his Karaoke machine is set up. "Good thing my club is blown up or I wouldn’t have this thing lying around . Let’s rephrase, not a good thing my club is blown up, but good to have the accompaniment. Hmm...now when Angel sang last, he did this number...." He shows Spike a CD.
Spike erupts in laughter, doubling over immediately. When he stands up, tears are running down his face. "You got Peaches to sing? Can’t believe I soddin’ missed it. Scourge of Europe doing Barry Manilow. Oi, it’s too much. Gotta sit down." Spike sprawls into one of the wooden chairs, still shaking with laughter.
"And let me tell you, hon." Lorne drops his voice. "He may wield a mean axe, but he can’t carry a note in a bushel basket! My ears!"
Spike grins. At least Angel has SOME friends worth knowing.
"So, let’s see. We need to pick you a song. Tell me what brings you to our fair city. Certainly not the beaches..."
" A girl, mate. Hell, THE girl. I love her. I’ve come to see Peaches ‘bout getting a soul so she can love me back."
"Oh, the classic soulless vampire loves girl, girl can’t love vampire due to evil tendencies story. Hear it all the time..." Lorne laughs. "I’ve got the perfect song. "
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, perfect for someone leather-covered and angst-filled like yourself. I’ll assume you’ve heard of the Kinks?"
A grin cracks Spike’s face. "Bloody brilliant, mate. Dead on accurate."
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