The Birthday Present | By : SpikesEvilbint Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male Views: 9959 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Chapter Thirty-Two
Angel, Buffy, Willow and Oz all sat dejectedly in the lounge at Revello Drive. Oz had just returned after spending a harrowing time with Lindsey. He’d left when Mrs. McDonald had returned, after seeing them both settled in Lindsey’s apartment. The house was trashed and Mr. McDonald’s charred remains had been recovered by the fire department.
“So what next?” asked Oz, finally breaking the long silence.
Buffy ran a hand through her hair. “I haven’t a clue. I really did think that Spike would go for Lindsey, especially considering what happened to his father. But after so long? Maybe he has just skipped town.”
“Would you stake him if you saw him?” Oz asked the question that no one else had dared to mention.
Buffy felt the weight of three pairs of eyes staring at her intensely. “Honestly? I don’t know.” Her heart ached at the thought of killing Spike. “But he has killed and if he’s done it once…”
“He’s likely to do it again,” supplied Oz.
She nodded sadly. “I’d need to talk to him first – see if he could be saved. If only his chip hadn’t stopped firing, he wouldn’t have been able to hurt anyone.”
Angel shifted in his seat and couldn’t prevent a low growl escaping his lips. I knew that she liked the freaking chip!
Buffy looked at him sharply, expecting a caustic comment but to her relief Angel just shook his head and sighed softly.
“Is there anyone else that has abused Spike outside of The Initiative?” asked Willow. She was sitting on the couch next to Oz, her feet curled up at her side.
Oz thought for a moment. “Well there is Warren, I suppose.”
Angel stiffened. That name sounded familiar. Why? “Why suppose? Don’t you know?” asked Angel, his tone harsher than he’d intended. He smiled slightly to try to make up for it.
Oz blinked. For a moment his wolf stirred at the perceived threat. There was always the danger around the full moon that the change would happen before moonrise. He took a deep calming breath.
“Warren works for The Initiative. I don’t know exactly what he does, but he is a friend of Lindsey’s so it figures that Spike must have seen him at some point.”
Angel closed his eyes as he recalled the man who worked on covering his tattoo before being dipped into the silicon coating.
“What is it, Angel?” Buffy’s voice was as soft as her touch on his arm.
Angel opened his eyes and found that he was gazing at Buffy’s worried face as she knelt in front of him. He knew that he should have opened up to her, to explain what his feelings were but he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t put it into words that somehow they’d changed him so that the only thing that made him think of sex was a male. Angel had thought that once he was out, that he’d be fine; that once the drugs were out of his system, he’d be back to craving the touch of a woman – of Buffy. But it was like they’d rewired him. All he wanted was to feel his cock in a man’s tight hole.
He reached out and stroked her cheek with the fingertips of his right hand. He wished it wasn’t the case but it was. Angel could understand why she’d been drawn to Spike, but the younger vampire was even more badly broken than he was.
“The one who covered my tattoo before I was dipped into the coating was called Warren. It’s got to be the same one,” he said. No need to tell her that the bastard had burned the tattoo off - seared it with a hot iron, before giving the go ahead to plunge me in the stuff.
Oz leaned forwards in his seat. “You guys said that Spike had been messed about with more than most. Do you think that Warren could have done some of the work?”
“Seems a safe assumption,” said Willow.
“Someone get me the address,” said Angel, standing up. “I’m going to stake out this Warren’s home in case Spike targets him.”
“You won’t…er…um…” said Buffy.
“Won’t what?” asked Angel, staring down at her.
Buffy got to her feet. “Do what you said before, about setting fires or cutting the brake pipes on his car. Promise me that you won’t, please, Angel.”
He smiled slightly. “I promise you, Buffy.” He wasn’t sure that he meant it though.
“Let me come with,” said Buffy.
“No. I’ll go alone. It might not be a bad thing to have someone watch Lindsey’s apartment. We can do it in shifts,” said Angel.
“In that case, I’d better take the first watch, as long as someone relieves me in time to get to a cage for the night,” said Oz. “Can I use your car please, Willow?”
“Sure.” She tossed him the keys.
He hadn’t reported his car as stolen as he didn’t want the cops to pull Spike over. This was as much for their safety as for Spike’s.
“You’ve got cell phones on you?” asked Willow, ever practical.
Both Oz and Angel checked their pockets, and nodded. As they walked to the door Buffy handed Oz a stake.
“Just in case,” she explained.
Oz stared at it and twisted it in his hand. He wasn’t sure that he’d be able to use it.
*~*~*~*
Angel could tell that Warren’s house was unoccupied as soon as he got there. There was no car in the drive and a pile of newspapers were lying on the porch. He walked around to the back of the house peering in the windows to make sure that his assumption was right.
“Can I help you?”
The voice made Angel start. He silently cursed the fact that his hearing was no longer as sharp as it used to be. He turned around to see a tall, slim woman with skin the colour of dark chocolate, regarding him with her hands on her hips.
“Um…hi,” he said, giving her his best smile. “I’m looking for Warren; you don’t know where he is, do you? It’s important.”
“What are you? Another cousin?” said the woman with a grin.
“A what?” Spike’s been here! “No, I’m from work. We’ve got a bit of a problem we need him to sort out, but he hasn’t logged his whereabouts and his cell’s not turned on. He’s going to be in real trouble if we can’t get a hold of him.” Angel didn’t need to fake the urgency in his voice. He desperately needed to know where he was. Was it already too late? He didn’t dare question her about the cousin.
The woman walked closer, sashaying her hips as she moved. “You don’t look like a geek.”
“I’m not!” protested Angel, then kicked himself. Had he blown his cover story wide open? “What I mean is I don’t work on the computer stuff; I just work in sales.” Sales? Why the hell did I say that?
“You could sell me anything,” said the woman, coming even closer and looking him boldly in the eye. “I’m Ellie Johnson.” She held out her hand.
Angel dropped eye contact. “Er…Liam…er…Summers.” Summers? Christ, Angel is your brain working at all! He gave her outstretched hand as brief a squeeze as he could.
Angel had to suppress a smile as he could sense her disappointment in his lack of response to her.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” he said glancing up at her, “but do you know where Warren is? He could be fired if he doesn’t report in.”
Ellie sighed. “Yes, he’s gone to the beach for a few days. He’s staying at the Blue Cove Hotel in Huntington Beach.
Angel’s final smile to her was genuine. “Thanks. That’s real helpful of you.” He gave a half wave and hurried back to the car.
The resort wasn’t far and so Angel decided to drive over there before he called Buffy and Willow. If Spike was there, he didn’t want Buffy to turn up and get all stake happy.
*~*~*~*
Spike sat in the car for a long time. He didn’t know what to do or where to go. He felt totally lost and alone. He groaned, leaned forwards and rested his head on the steering wheel. He had no idea how long he sat like this before a tap on the window almost caused him to vamp out.
He turned to see who it was, ready to attack if it was an Initiative soldier. To his immense relief it wasn’t. A doorman from the hotel was staring in at him.
“Sorry to startle you, sir. But are you okay?”
Spike turned the key in the ignition and pressed the button to wind the window down.
“Er, yeah. Just a headache.” Spike tried to think of the most plausible reason for sitting as he had.
“Do you need a doctor? You look very pale.”
I’m pale all right! The bleeding coating keeps us from burning up but a good tan isn’t ever gonna happen.
“No, I’ve taken some pills, just want them to kick in before I drive home, I haven’t far to go. Thank you for your concern. I’ll be going in a few, okay?”
The doorman smiled at him. “That’s good, sir. If you change your mind, the hotel isn’t fully booked.”
Spike grinned. “Touting for business, huh?”
“Maybe,” returned the doorman. He nodded at Spike before walking back to his position.
Come on, Spike. Where to? He rubbed his hands over his face hard enough to make him yelp. The only thing that ever came to mind when he thought that, was the one place he knew that he could never go. Lindsey’s bed.
Spike sighed deeply and looked out the windshield, his hand was about to switch the engine on.
“What the fuck?”
Angel had just pulled up in his poncey car and hurried into the hotel. Spike had the door open and one foot on the floor when he froze. Two Initiative soldiers were going in to the hotel at the same rushed pace.
Bollocks!
Spike’s mind went in to overdrive. They’d obviously been watching the hotel since the removal of the body. How they’d missed spotting Spike sitting in his car he’d never know. He couldn’t let the daft sod get recaptured because of him. As far as Spike knew, Angel’s chip was still working efficiently. A plan formed. He got out of the car and raced to the hotel, offering a silent prayer to whatever God looked after vampires, that the two he had seen were the only ones at the hotel.
He opted for service elevator. He’d checked it out before he’d paid Warren his visit. He got to the right floor and was there in time to see Angel enter the room that Warren had occupied. Spike fairly threw himself through the door after him.
Without thinking, Angel whirled round and punched Spike on the chin; he screwed up his face automatically as he expected the chip to fire. Angel squinted down at the fallen body of his victim and when he saw who it, was the tiny bit of hope that his chip had also malfunctioned, faded.
“Spike!”
Spike glared at him. “Well, yeah.” He grumpily rubbed his chin.
Angel offered him his hand; Spike took it and clambered to his feet.
“We’ve got a problem, Initiative goons followed you in. They’ll be here any mo –”
The door crashed open and both vampires turned to face the door. As soon as Spike saw them, he dropped to his knees.
“Please don’t hurt me. He stole me – I want to get back to my owners.” He watched them through his eyelashes.
“Holy crap! It can talk! Quick shoot it!” yelled the first soldier, a kid of barely twenty.
“Please don’t,” Spike begged. He lowered his head to the floor in the most submissive position that he could assume.
Angel stared at him in astonishment but wisely kept his mouth shut. Two talking vampires would totally freak them out.
The second soldier, a bigger, older guy, with greying hair, took a step forwards. Spike didn’t move but Angel instinctively took a pace back. This was enough to provoke the nervous kid to pull the trigger on his weapon. There was nothing nervous about his aim. A tranquiliser dart hit Angel’s throat and he fell to the floor before he could even put his hand up to touch it.
“Please don’t shoot me,” said Spike, the panic in his voice was real. There was no hope for either of them if he was knocked out too. He slid his hands along the floor towards them. “Just take me back to my owner. I need my owner. Chain me. I won’t resist.”
The older man prodded Spike with his foot. “How come you can speak?”
“My owner did it,” replied Spike, steadfastly looking at the soldier’s boots. “Is it bad? He told me that I could speak without being spoken to first. Sorry.” Spike pressed his body lower to the ground.
“Your controls still working?” said the soldier.
“He got on the floor without being asked,” pointed out the young soldier.
“Position eleven,” said Spike automatically.
“Huh?” said the kid.
“It’s the position I have to go in if I am confronted by an Initiative worker,” said Spike. He hoped desperately that neither of the two soldiers was high enough up to know that he was lying.
“Cool,” said the kid, earning a sharp look from his partner.
“What’s your name?” asked the older man.
“Spike, sir.”
“Stand up, Spike. Keep it slow and keep your hands in sight. You’re stronger than us – you can carry your pal, here, down to the van.”
Spike slowly stood up and carefully avoided eye contact.
“Gus is going to cuff your wrists. Remember I’ve got the weapon on you. We can still put you on the floor.”
Spike nodded. “W-will you take me back? Please, I’m scared.” He hunched his shoulders.
Gus walked towards Spike. He looked over his shoulder at his partner. “I thought they were supposed to be fierce – this one is like a little pussy-cat.”
Before Gus turned back to face him, Spike vamped out and grabbed the kid by the throat. He pulled Gus towards him. “Remember that pussy-cats have sodding big claws!” Spike twisted around so that the shot that the second soldier fired hit the kid and not him.
Spike dropped the limp body and went for the barrel of the gun. As soon as he had it in his grasp, he rammed it back towards the older man. It hit him in his stomach and Spike heard the air rush out of the soldier. Taking advantage of the fact that the soldier doubled up with the blow, Spike punched him in the side of the head and the man fell, unmoving, next to his partner.
He stared at them for a moment. Part of him wanted to drain them both, but another part was horrified by it. They weren’t the ones that he had the issues with. That was the men in the lab. One day…
“You don’t get any smaller, do you?” grumbled Spike as he struggled to balance Angel over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
Luckily, the blood he had taken from Warren had strengthened him and he carried Angel with ease once he’d gotten the balance right. To his relief, no one spotted them as he descended the stairs. A quick glance out of the stairwell and Spike managed to get Angel to the alley out the back, unseen.
He put Angel down behind a trash can and then snuck out of the alley and back to his car. Spike pulled it to the end of the alley and ran in to haul Angel’s inert body unceremoniously back to the car before heaving him into the trunk.
“Sorry, mate,” he said as the lid slammed shut.
Spike drove for an hour and then stopped at a remote spot to open the trunk. He’d heard banging and correctly guessed that Angel had come around from the dose of trank the kid had pumped into him.
Angel covered his eyes with his arms as the bright light flooded in.
“Oh, thank God, it’s you. I thought…”
Angel shuddered violently and Spike realised that he’d thought that he was on his way back to the labs. He reached out and touched Angel’s arm.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s only me.”
“Help me out of here,” said Angel, glaring at Spike as he began to chuckle. “What is funny about this?”
Spike leaned against the side of the car. “What? Apart from seeing you squashed in there like a sardine in a tin can?” He wrapped his arms around his body as he laughed.
“It’s not funny!” snapped Angel as he tried to untangle his limbs so that he could climb out of the trunk.
With no help at all from the still wheezing Spike, Angel finally heaved himself out and stretched. “Ow!” He put his hand to his neck and with a grimace pulled out the dart. “You didn’t even take the freaking dart out of me!” He brandished it at Spike before throwing it as far away as he could.
Spike stopped laughing and stared at Angel seriously. “Well, I’m sorry about that, mate. But I was kind of busy back there,” he waved an arm about, “saving your sorry arse. Hey, don’t mention it. Oh that’s right – you didn’t, you git.”
Spike pouted. Angel felt his jeans tighten. Spike had always been pretty when he pouted. That one time, way back, when… Angel shook his head rapidly. That had started with a pout.
Angel held his hands out palms uppermost. “Okay, I’m sorry. Thank you for saving my arse.” Angel grinned as he used Spike’s English term. Spike glanced at him and lost the fight to stay pissed at him. He leered at the arse in question.
“Very nice it is, too,” he said, tilting his head on one side with a smirk.
Oh, Christ. Angel was hopelessly aroused. But this couldn’t be good. Could it?
“Warren?” he managed to mutter, breaking eye contact and gazing off to the right.
“Is on his way back to The Initiative,” said Spike glibly.
Angel looked at him sharply. “He’s alive?”
“Not so much.”
“What?”
“Put it this way – he’ll be experiencing the program from the other side, as it were.”
“What?”
Spike vamped out and growled. “Shite is that all that you can say?” He stomped away a few paces before Angel spoke again.
“I just don’t know what you mean – you’re talking in riddles.”
Spike sighed dramatically as his features faded back to human and turned around.
“That coating addled your brain?” he snapped.
Spike closed his eyes briefly at the memory of the sweet taste of Warren’s blood. When he opened them again, he found that Angel was staring at him. Spike grinned and threw his arms open wide. “I’m a daddy!”
“Wh –” Angel stopped himself just in time. “You sired him?”
Spike nodded vigorously. “Yeah.” He scowled. “That bastard took my fangs and my memory. Death would have been too easy.”
“McDonald didn’t look like he died easy,” said Angel sharply.
Spike glared at him, his eyes flickering between amber and blue. “He got what he deserved. You got a problem with that?” He squared up to the larger vampire, fists clenched at his sides.
Angel took a step back to diffuse the tension, shaking his head slightly. “No. Not really. But the Slayer has.”
Spike opened his mouth to reply but closed it again and looked off to the side.
“The men from The Initiative? What did you do to them?” asked Angel softly.
Spike turned to face him again, his expression unreadable. “They’re alive. The one who shot you might still be out of it; I’m not sure how long a human hit with vamp strength tranquiliser takes to recover. The other will have a sore head, but that’s all.”
“Why?”
Spike smiled weakly. “Makes a change from ‘what’.
Angel waited.
Spike sighed once more. “Why didn’t I kill them? Not really sure. It’s not like I’ve got a soul holding me back like you have. Maybe it was because my problem is with the techs in the labs and the ones higher up, and not with the foot soldiers.” He turned his back to Angel, his hand resting on the roof of the car. “Maybe all the shit that I’ve endured has made me more aware of what happens when I hurt someone. I wasn’t hungry, so they weren’t food, so I left them. I had my life taken away from me – didn’t see the point in taking theirs.”
Angel carefully schooled his expression so that it didn’t show any sign of the astonishment that he felt. Spike showing compassion? They really have broken him. “Look, don’t worry about the Slayer. I won’t let her stake you.”
Spike’s arrogance returned. “Don’t need your sodding help, mate. If she tries to stake me – I’ll kill her. Fair fight and all.”
Angel couldn’t help but smile. Spike was like a little bantam cock with all his feathers ruffled. “But it won’t ever be a fair fight,” he said quietly.
He grabbed Spike’s arm and gripped it as tightly as he could. The skin, sensitized by the coating, multiplied the amount of pain that Spike felt. With a groan that ended in a ragged sob, Spike fell to his knees.
“Not ever again,” said Angel.
He released his hold on Spike and stepped back as the younger vampire rested on his hands and knees for a few minutes before he rose to his feet. His face was anguished as he met Angel’s eye.
“Oh, fuck, Angel. What am I going to do?”
Angel closed the gap between them and put his hand on the back of Spike’s head. The two stared at each other before leaning forwards and mashing their mouths together in a hungry kiss. Angel pulled away when Spike moaned softly.
“Do you want this?” Angel asked.
Spike’s eyes were full of lust as he replied, “Oh, God, yes!”
Angel glanced at the car. “How far are we from that hotel?”
“’Bout an hour.”
“It’s not enough. We need to put more distance between us and them. And we need to ditch this car.”
Spike could barely resist the urge to rip his jeans off and offer himself to Angel there and then, but reluctantly he nodded his agreement. “So what do we do?”
“Drive until we hit a large town; swap this car for another one –”
“Your soul is okay with you nicking cars, is it?” sneered Spike.
Angel glared at him. “Change the car, drive some more –”
“Seems it’s gonna be a lot of driving.” Spike interrupted again. He tilted his head on one side and gave Angel his best pout. The old git can never resist it.
Angel wondered how he could feel the rush of heat travel through him when he was supposed to be the same as the air temperature.
“Then,” he said slowly, “I find a motel, take you in there and throw you on the bed.”
“Ker- rist,” muttered Spike, his left hand rearranging his jeans.
“And you won’t be allowed off it until I have fucked you every way that I can think of.”
Spike put his right hand in his back pocket - his left still being somewhat occupied - pulled out the car keys and tossed them to Angel. “Better sodding drive fast then, ‘cause I’m not sure how long I can wait.”
Angel caught the keys without taking his eyes off Spike’s face. He reached out and covered Spike’s left hand with his own, pressing it against Spike’s bulging jeans.
“No, Spike,” he whispered. “You don’t come until I tell you to.”
Spike nearly lost it there and then. A part of him was appalled at the thought that being ordered about clearly got him off – big time. But an even larger part of him was relieved not to have to make decisions. He wanted to be told what to do. Even with the return of his memories, he hadn’t really known what he should be feeling or doing. Now it was obvious. He should be feeling lust and he should be doing whatever the hell Angel wanted.
“Yes, sire,” he whispered, as Angel kissed him gently this time.
When their lips parted an almost comical dash to get in the car was followed by Angel tearing away from the curb, with smoke swirling from the tyres.
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