Soldier Diaries Series: Relative Issues | By : JINXI Category: AtS AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male > Angel(us)/Spike(William) > Angel(us)/Spike(William) Views: 1799 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title:
The Soldier Diaries: Relative Issues
Author: Buffywatcher
Feedback: Constructive comments as
ws
welcome: jinxascendant@hotmail.com
Pairing:0in;margin-left:.25in;margin-bottom:.0001pt'>“Hello big Brother.” The teenager says softly. His voice
is slightly husky with a slight whispery inflection that softens his pronounced
cockney accent into a smooth purring cadence.
“Hello William.” Liam says smiling back. His eyes flick away as his Father
finally moves, taking a few steps forward to rest a hand on William’s shoulder.
Liam drops his eyes unwilling to see the pride that gleams in his eyes as he
squeezes his Stepbrother’s shoulder. He feels Amalie’s hold on his hand tighten
in support and his own tightens in silent thanks. He feels a hand curving over
his shoulder and he looks up to see that William has crossed the distance to
present a united front along side his Mother and new Stepbrother. William’s
eyes shine with warmth as his astonishing eyes brighten to a vivid cerulean
blue that would shame the deepest of pure Caribbean seas. Liam finds his hand rises to cover
William’s hand on his shoulder and he almost grins as his Stepbrother flicks
his gaze defiantly to his Father. Liam almost grins as his Stepbrother’s eyes
seem to darken to an almost indigo blue and seem lit from within by a deep fire
that is barely banked. Taking courage from the support Liam flings his head
back proudly and he faces down his Father. “Hello Father.” His voice is cool,
calm, and collected.
“Welcome back Liam.” His Father says gruffly.
Liam lifts his head and takes a deep breath. “It’s good to be home Sir.”~
“…Sir?”
Liam is startled, gives a little jump of surprise and looks at Meers with a
confused frown.
“We’re here Sir. I was asking if you’d like me to drop you off at the Commander’s
office on my way to the motor pool ”
“Hi Tara, would you please?” He hands his pack to the pretty
young blonde, knowing that he can entrust that Sergeant will guard it well. He
isn’t surprised that she handles the heavy pack with an easy strength, knowing
that the Sergeant holds the position she does on more than looks alone. He
cks cks softly and waits a moment out of respect before entering.
“There you are, Liam. Please come in and meet our honoured guests.” General
Woods the base commander smiles and waves him inside.
Liam smiles and starts to move forward asr sir sir sitting with their backs to
him stand and turn to face him. Liam’s eyes widen and his steps falter as one
of the men mirrors his expression before darting forward to catch him up in a
hug.
“Uncle Rupert?!!” Liam exclaims in shock as his
honorary Uncle laughs and nods as the pair hug and talk a mile a minute,
neither noticing the door softly being closed behind them. Liam is stunned to
see his Stepbrother William’s Godfather after all these years. “YOU’RE the head
of the Watchers Council?!!” He just can’t believe his eyes. He lets his glance
flow over his shocked Commander’s face and over the studious looking man
standing in front of the desk. He tries to hide his shock as his first
impression of the man is that he’s a librarian or a college professor rather
than one of the deadliest men in the Council’s combat ranks.
“Well it seems introductions are redundant Colonel as you and Mr. Giles appear
to be acquainted.” Commander Woods says jovially as he resumes his seat. He
gestures to the other man to his left. “This is Wesley Wyndham-Price, Mr.
Giles’ Executive Assistant.” Liam releases his Uncle and reaches out to shake
Wesley’s hand. “And the gentleman behind you is…”
Liam turns automatically starting to extend his hand while he conceals his
surprise at not only not realising there was a fourth man in the room, but also
at not realising he was standing behind him. He would have thought his
observational and survival skills were better honed than that. He freezes and
inhales sharply as the man steps away from the shadows beside the door. His
hair is a shocking shade of platinum blond that is never seen in nature, it is
short on the sides and in back and the longer waves of the top are neatly swept
back and gelled into place. He is dressed identically to the two he saw
stepping off the elevator earlier with the addition of a calf length black
leather duster. Despite the changes from teenager into manhood, Liam knows
without a doubt that there can’t be two men in the world with those cheekbones
and those eyes.
“Hello big Brother.”
Liam closes his eyes and takes a deep breath at the sound of that voice he
remembers so well. It is deeper and slightly rougher with age and a more pronounced
accent roughened by a soft growl.
“Hello William.”
Commander Woods’ looks like he wants to bang his head on his desk in
exasperation but finally smiles wryly and just forges ahead anyway. “Liam, Lord William Bradley; Retired Lt. Colonel of her Majesty’s
Royal Marines. This is Colonel Liam O’Donnell, one of the best damn men
in this unit.”
“Just call me Spike, Mate.”
Liam watches in amazement as his Stepbrother pulls a pack of cigarettes from
his pocket and lights one as he leans back against the wall beside the door
with an obvious lack of military reserve and deportment.
Rupert Giles chuckles and shakes his head at his incorrigible Godson and makes
a subtle motion with his head that has him nodding in understanding as he steps
away from the wall.
“Come along Percy, lets round up the others and let Giles finish his talks with
the General.”
Wesley grimaces at being called by that inane nickname but quietly leaves the
office without argument.
“Spike.” Giles says softly, stopping the blond in his
tracks. “Keep everyone together; I want to visit the Slayer’s home before we
settle in here.” Spike nods once and stalks out of the office and past Wesley
who jogs to keep up, maintaining a respectful distance behind him.
Liam turns to his Uncle and narrows his eyes suspiciously as incidents from
William’s youth suddenly begin to make more sense. “How long has Wil been
working for you?”
Giles drops his eyes and turns back to the General. “Since he was a boy Liam,
since he was boy.” He sits down in a chair heavily and sighs at the censure he
knows will be in his foster nephew’s eyes if he could bring himself to look up
and see.
“May I be excused Sir?” Liam growls unable to keep the
anger from roughening his voice.
“Yes of course Liam. You’re excused.” Commander Woods replies at the silent nod
of encouragement from Giles. The men watch as Liam salutes sharply and turns on
his heel and strides out of the office, pausing only briefly to retrieve his
pack from Sergeant Maclay before striding out of the Commander’s offices.
“I’m sorry General; I…didn’t have any idea that your Colonel O’Donnell was my
Foster Nephew. I would have sent Spike and the others ahead and come alone.”
Giles says gruffly, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them vigorously before
putting them back on.
“They’re Brothers?” Commander Woods asks confused for his friend has never
mentioned having any family other than his Father.
“Stepbrothers; William’s Mother Amalie was married to Liam’s Father Sean for a
little over fifteen years.” Giles says clearing his throat.
“The marriage went bad I take it and they divorced?” Commander Woods asks
sympathetically.
“You could say that. Yes you could say that it went very badly indeed and
neither of those boys will ever forgive themselves for that; even though
there’s nothing to forgive. What happened wasn’t their fault but I think both
of them may persist in thinking that it is.”
*
Chapter Two
Liam strides down tallwallway from the Commander’s office his mind in turmoil,
his mind jammed full of confused thoughts and mixed emotions. He had never
thought he’d ever see his Stepbrother again…and the son of a bitch is more
beautiful than ever.
He strides down the hall his eyes scanning each office
and lounge as he passes looking for a flash of black leather and platinum flash
that will betray his Stepbrother’s presence. He bypasses the elevator opting
for the ease of the staircase and his long strides make short work of the four
story descent as he rockets of tof the stairwell. He turns and navigates the
maze of hallways and corridors and the maze of look-alike rooms that the
military does its level best to shove into every ounce of available space.
There isn’t much space when it comes to military life,
be it spatial or personal as efficiency is the dogma of the century. Every
available space has a function, has its uses, and waste isn’t something that is
well thought of by the bean counters that are as much a part of military life
as discipline is. Every person has their duties, their own uses, just as
regimented and just as controlled. There is always someone higher that must be
accounted to, always someone that you have to be held accountable to. The
military isn’t the path to freedom; it is the stability of structure, of
predictability, of constancy and the loss of one’s self.
From the moment the military embraces you, you become
part of the great machinery, your purpose set and defined as the labels of rank
and serial number become your mantra. The faceless cogs in the innards of the
military machine; you can be worn out, broken, and replaced as easily as a
burnt out light bulb. Little wonder that few bulbs choose to make their lives
in the servof tof their fellow man. They choose to illuminate the night with
their light for a span of a few years before taking their skills back into the
shadows instead. Who can blame them truly for wanting to regain the
individuality that once defined them and set them apart from everyone else?
Liam navigates the halls as easily as he does the
constraints his chosen path consigns him to and he soon arrives at the
Officer’s Lounge. He leans in the doorway and stares somewhat in amazement and
no little bemusement. William has hopped up on the bar and perches there with
easy grace, his arm resting comfortably around the shoulders of the slender
blond he saw getting off the elevator earlier. Her powerfully built companion
is talking animatedly to them both, his hands moving as he talks. The bookish
man from the office…Wesley he thinks his name was, is sitting at the bar
sipping from a thermos, offering a quiet phrase now and then to the
conversation. Each of them is in their way unique and some deeply ingrained
instinct tells him that they are much more than they appear to be.
Wesley is the epitome of low-key intellectualism
wrapped up in the formality of well-bred English mannerisms. His clothes are
neat and understated and of the highest quality without being flashy or
pretentious. He is seated perfectly in the centre of the barstool, the heels of
his loafers neatly caught on the lowest railing. Other than his moving arm
delivering his thermos to his mouth and the eyes that continually scan the
room, he is as still as a rock. To most eyes he would seem to be a threat on
par with a paper cut but Liam can almost sense a watchful intensity that the
truly innocent never possess. It’s like gazing at a snake curled on a rock, you
can never tell if it is awake or sleeping until you approach too close to
escape it’s strike.
The powerfully built black man is slightly easier to
categorise. His well delineated musculature, faint tracings of old scars
peppered here and there and the ease with which he tempers that power all
shouting out that he is no stranger to a fight. The back of his hands and his
forearms bear tracing upon tracing of scars and it’s easy to see that he fights
in a brawler like style that relies heavily on his physical strength. He
certainly has the build to stand toe to toe and duke it out on sheer power
alone. Yet again though layers upon layers and he too eludes the easy
classifications as he is talking quite animatedly about the thermodynamics of
the solar winds.
Liam’s gaze flickers over the petite woman looking
entirely too accustomed to the weight of William’s arm across her shoulders.
She’s attractive, even pretty he supposes. She wears her combat gear with easy
grace betraying that she is no stranger to it. She is physically on the
delicate side as far as her build yet she holds herself proudly and unafraid
among the number of these fighting men. While part of that could be explained
away by Spike’s clearly protective embrace he suspects it has more to do with
the fact that her eyes shine with knowledge beyond her years. Like her
companions the placid gloss of what she appears to be only hides the depths of
who she truly is.
Liam turns his attention to the last member of the
merry band. Wil…no Spike he corrects himself, has grown into the breathtaking
potential he exhibited as a boy. He is several inches shorter than he is and he
estimates that he is only an inch or two taller than his Mother had been which
places him at the lower range of the average male height range. The leather
duster hides quite a bit of his body’s build from being easily discerned and
it’s difficult to see if he has changed very much. He has always been rather
lithe of build, his muscles sleek but taut with a liquid fluidness he can only
liken to a cat’s in nature. His body seems to defy every standard for beauty,
every feature standing in high relief as though crafted by a Master artisan’s
hand to be both functional and aesthetically pleasing to look upon. Liam’s eyes
narrow as he sees that the few Officers milling around in the lounge this early
in the day seem to be enjoying the marriage of form and function that is his
younger Stepbrother. He moves out of the doorway fluidly, smiling coolly and
nodding to acknowledge the salutes that are snapped at him as the Officer
become aware of his presence as he crosses the room to join the group at the
bar.
Spike watches as his Stepbrother strides through the
room like Arthur through the court of Camelot and sneers at his lordly manners.
Before he can say anything he introduces his friends.
“Everyone meet Colonel Liam O’Donnell. Colonel these
are my fellow Hunters and friends. You’ve already met Percy there.” Taken aback
Liam only nods politely. “I’m sure you’ll remember Captain, Retired British
Army, Charles Gunn, Larissa’s oldest son.”
“I’ll be damned! Good to see you again Liam.” Charles
says with a polite smile and a firm handshake.
“We’ll it’s certainly been a few years Charles.” Liam
is surprised as he returns the handshake he the tries to reconcile his image of
a young boy with the grown man he’s addressing now. “How are your parents? I
must admit I think of them fondly and wonder how they’re doing from time to
time.”
“My Father passed peacefully five years ago. Mother
was killed in an accident along with two of my sisters in an auto accident two
years ago. My youngest sister is married to a barrister in Wales and they have a growing
family. My Mom often asked after your well-being, she was fond of you as well.
She tried to keep in touch after she left her job with your Father but you know
how that goes…”
Liam nods sadly and clasps his shoulder in silent
sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that Charles. Your Mom was a very special lady.”
“Liam, meet Lt. Commander, Retired Royal Navy, Anya
Jensen-Giles, Rupes’ wife.” Spike says quietly. “They raised me after Mum…well
after Mum.” His voice trails off.
“After Mom what?” Liam asks confused but
for some reason his blood turns to ice water in his veins at the look in Wil’s
eyes.
“You don’t know?” Spike throws his head up and back in
shock silently damning his former Stepfather as Liam shakes his head. “Mum’s
gone Liam. She passed away when I was sixteen. Rupert and I cabled to let you
know but your Father cabled back that neither of you were interested in
anything to do with us and not to bother sending any more messages.”
“That’s not true! Dad knew I loved Amalie he wouldn’t
have…”
“He DID.” Anya says simply. “I read the cable myself
so I should know. I tried to call and I was told in no uncertain terms that
anyone in our family was unwelcome and legal action would be taken if we
persisted in trying to contact you or your Father again. We helped Wil with the
arrangements and brought him to live with us. Your Father is an asshole Liam,
nothing else.” She says coolly, her eyes narrowing in a way that has Liam
dropping his eyes and wanting to apologise.
“She…there are some things that she wanted you to
have.” Liam’s head rears back and his eyes are shrouded by his lashes as he
tries to contain his tears. “I…I have them stored for you. I’ll see that
they’re delivered as soon as possible, alright Mate?”
Liam can only nod and try to hold back his tears,
clenching his hand into fists as he forcibly restrains himself from finding the
nearest phone and ripping strips off of his Father’s hide. He feels three sets
of hands on his back or shoulders and accepts the silent comfort as he looks at
Wil who silently looks back, his eyes darkening to a stormy grey chased blue.
He watches as he tilts his head to the side as though looking at something he
can’t quite fathom, before slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out a
small cell phone.
He dials without looking away from his eyes and lifts
the phone to his ear. “It’s Wil. Giles, we’ve got a bit of a situation and I
need a favour from your new best buddy Woods if you can swing it for me.” He
stops to listen for a moment. “The Bastard didn’t tell him about Mum, I don’t
think he’s in real good shape, I want to take him home, think that can be
arranged?” He’s quiet for a few moments before he talks again. “Yeah I’ll catch
up with you later tonight or tomorrow alright? Thanks Mate.” He closes the
phone and slides it back into his pocket and jumps easily off the bar to land
silently on the balls of his feet, moving fluidly to press his palm against
Liam’s chest. “The General says I can take you home…I think we’ve got a bit of
talking to do oi Pet?”
“Yes I have so many questions…” Liam trails off, his
voice rough and husky with unshed tears.
“The General said he’d have someone meet us out front
and drive us back to your apartment. He said that you can take a few days leave
if you need it, that he’ll call you later to see how you’re doing.” Spike says
gruffly. He turns his attention to his compas. “s. “Giles will be down shortly
with the General and then you’ll all be going to get settled at the house.
We’ll head for the Slayer’s place tomorrow until then everyone is on stand
down. Just rest up and get over the flight and Giles will brief us on what
we’ll be doing here while he has his meetings.” They nod and he smiles at each
before stalking out of the room. He doesn’t need to turn around to look and see
if Liam is following him, he knows that he is. He pushes through the doors, out
into the welcoming shadows of the gathering evening and pushes his back into
the wall on the side of the building, taking solace from the shadows. He lights
a cigarette and watches as Liam sets his pack down and lets his back slam
against the wall next to him his, arms crossing across his chest as though
hugging himself to keep his emotions inside.
“So you’re career military…it suits you.” The pause in
Spike’s voice clearly shouts that he’s not sure that’s necessarily a good
thing. “You always were one for the orderly and disciplined life.”
“So left the military…it suits you.” Liam snaps back.
“You always were one for anarchy.”
They’re silent for several seconds then both chuckle
and Liam taps demandingly on Spike’s thigh until he hands over a cigarette
feigning a much put upon sigh of exasperation. He leansr anr and smirks as he
watches Liam fidgeting nervously as he uses the burning end of his cigarette to
light his. He chuckles again at the obvious relief on Liam’s face as he pulls
away to lean his back against the building once more.
“Was she happy Wil?” Liam asks softly. He sees his
eyes slip closed tiredly and sees his lips drawn tight as though to keep
something from wrenching it’s way out of his mouth. “Please just…I need to know
everything. Just tell me.”
“No she wasn’t happy.” Liam lets his own eyes fall
shut heavily. “Not after you left. She cried for days hoping you’d both come
back, but in the end, I think she missed you more than she ever had him. She
used to write you every week and every week an unopened letter would be
returned with delivery denied scribbled across them.” Liam flinches. “I…I hid
them from her…and Giles got a friend in the States to write to her pretending
to be you. I think part of her knew all that same but she let herself believe
the lies we spun for her.” Wil says quietly, glancing at Liam apologetically
expecting to see an angry expression and relaxing when he sees only a grateful
one.
Spike leans over and presses his shoulder against
Liam’s in silent support briefly before moving back. “She had a stroke a year
after you left. She recovered alright it seemed at the time, but then she had a
second and a third within just a few months, each time it left her more and
more damaged. Her physicians said she would never recover fully, she was bed
ridden, needed twenty-four hour care and assistance and bit by bit she just
faded away. We tried to get in touch with you, but Sean shot us down every time.
Giles hired a private detective to find you and he did but I guess Sean had
strings of his own to pull. We were stopped at the Airport by immigration and
told in no uncertain terms that the U.S. Government considered us
‘undesirables’ and we were sent home with an escort. Sean called a week later
and told Rupert that you wanted nothing to do with our family and didn’t care
about Mother’s condition, that you’d moved on and forgotten us all. We stopped
trying after that…Mother needed us to be strong and take care of things.”
“I…he never told me any of that. He told me that you’d
said pretty much the same thing about me when I asked about calling Amalie. I
wondered why she never answered my letters.”
“We never got any.” Liam seems to accept that as part
of his Father’s duplicitous actions. “He no doubt intercepted yours like he did
ours. We…I…hated you for a while for not coming to see her, but I think part of
me always knew thaen ien if I had reached you, Sean would never have let you
go. So maybe in the end what happened hurt less for both of us.”
“Was it fast Wil? Did she…?” Liam’s voice is gruff and
hesitant.
“Suffer? No, she passed on peacefully in her sleep.
According to her physicians she felt no pain and she was ready to go Liam. She
was tired of being locked in the prison of her body, unable to do the simplest
things. I think in the end she just wanted to be free and thanks to Giles’
friend, she knew her Dark Angel would be alright. She knew the course of my
life had been mapped out long ago and she gave me the best start in life that
she could and it was time. We scattered her ashes into the sea as she wanted
and now she’s free in a way she just couldn’t be here any more.”
They’re shocked out of their melancholy silence by the
nosy arrival of a jeep and Liam recognises the young recruit that drove him to
the base earlier.
“Colonel O’Donnell? General Woods assigned me to drive
you and your guest back to your quarters Sir.”
Liam leans over and slides his hand through his pack’s
straps and whispers quietly. “He’s wanted to meet the infamous Spike, or so I
was regaled with on the ride over here earlier. It’ll be the thrill of his day
if you give him a bit of a show.” Liam picks up his pack and nods to Spike who
nods back and stalks forward. When he is still several feet from the jeep he
gathers his legs under him and snaps out of the crouch into an impossible
acrobatic move that has him somersaulting to a graceful landing in the jeep’s
rear seat. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and exhales a plume of smoke
as he lounges across the back seat while the servicemen around them break into
spontaneous applause.
Liam shakes his head and laughs loudly as Spike stands
up on the rear seat and takes a bow before returning to his lazy sprawl across
the backseat. He hefts his pack with a flex of his muscles unsurprised that
Spike catches it with the same ease, swinging it neatly into place behind the
passenger seat and securing it with the bungee cords placed there for just the
purpose. The motions are quick and efficient and Liam knows that for all the
truth of being retired, that Wil has forgotten nothing. He hops into the jeep
and nods to Meers who is busy staring over his shoulder in wonderment at his
second passenger.
@@
“Private First Class Meers, meet my Stepbrother
Spike.” Liam says with a grin. He chuckles and hears Wil echo it as the
startled Private’s mouth drops open in shock and stays that way and he flashes
looks between them both.
“Nice to meet you Mate.” Spike says with a grin
chuckling as the young serviceman blushes while he stammers out a reciprocating
reply. “We appreciate the ride back Private.” He says quietly jarring the young
man back into a realisation of his duties and he quickly flipsund und and
starts the jeep, manoeuvring them on their way.
“You’re HIM? I mean really, you know HIM?” Meers
stutters faintly.
“I’m not sure what you mean Mate. I’m sure there must
be a lot of HIM’s around, ya know what I mean?” Spike smirks as Liam shoots him
a chiding glance over his shoulder that he quickly ruins by laughing silently.
“Are you the Spike that works for the Watcher’s
Council?”
“Yeah Mate that’s me I guess, since I’m the only one
with that name that does.” He says with another chuckle.
“Wow, it’s a real honour to meet you Sir. I was
telling the Colonel earlier that I was hoping you’d be part of the delegation
the Watchers Council sent so that I would be able to meet you.”
“I always accompany the head of the Council when he
travels abroad. It’s one of my primary responsibilities.”
“May I ask you about your job with the Council?”
Liam glances at Meers grateful that the chatty young
man is asking Wil about questions he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask
anymore.
“Sure Mate, what would you like to know? I can’t
answer any questions that violate Council security but I’ll just say if I can’t
answer something, how’s that?”
“Meers are you off duty?” Liam asks suddenly.
The young private glances at his watch. “I was off
shift twelve minutes ago, technically, Sir.”
“I don’t think I have much in the makings for a decent
dinner as I usually eat at the base, why don’t we stop somewhere and have
dinner and you two can finish your discussion then drop us off at my place?”
Liam suggests.
“That sounds great Pet; I’m starving…but somewhere quiet
ya? My nerves are still jangled from all the travelling.” Spike says quietly.
Liam looks over his shoulders and can see the
weariness in the slight dulling of his normally shining eyes and the nervous
twitches of his muscles.
“My folks run a quiet little place not far from here.
It’s nothing fancy just good solid comfort food kind of place.” Meers offers
weakly, glancing nervously at the Colonel and in the rear view mirror at Spike.
“If they have chicken fried steak with all the
trimmings Mate, colour me comforted.” Spike quips. “It’s impossible to get a
decent chicken fried steak in London, it just never tastes
like it does here. It’s hard to make up reasons to visit the States just so I
can get some decent greasy spoon fare eh?” Spike says with a chuckle as he lets
his head slump over to be braced up by his shoulder.
“My folks make the best chicken fried steak in town.”
Meers says with a grin, turning down a side street and heading for his parents’
restaurant.
The drive is pleasant and relaxing as the residential
area and upscale homes on this side of town are rather quiet. He pulls into the
parking lot of the Raintree Café and parks the jeep. Spike is seated on moment
standing outside the jeep in the next and leaning back inside and releases the
cords holding the pack and shoulders it with a casual shrug as though it
weighed three pounds rather than thirty. Liam chuckles as Meers’ mouth drops
open in amazement and he hops out of the jeep and looks at the young man while
Spike goes inside. After a couple of minutes of trying to rouse the googly-eyed
man Liam rounds the jeep to grab the still staring Meers and guides him inside
after Spike.
Liam looks around as they enter and is surprised to
see that the décor is very warm and welcoming but that steps have been taken to
preserve privacy. Rather than tables and chairs that he would have expected to
see, each table is surrounded on three sides by tall-backed bench seating
forming roomy yet intimate cubicles. The wood is dark and glows with the patina
of age and the loving care of rich oils. To compliment the rich woods the
carpeting is a rich mahogany red. The walls and ceiling are painted a pale
yellow that looks like the colour of antique lace that has been well handled
through its years. The seating is upholstered in deep mahogany red leather to
compliment the wood and the carpeting but the high backs are covered in pale
drapery that has been carefully pleated and sewn into place. Heavy
old-fashioned chandelier like light fixtures hang over the centre of each
well-crafted mahogany table. The overall effect manages to be both intimately
close and comfortably spacious at the same time, with the use of various
colours to define the space perfectly and it’s very appealing to the eye.
Despite the late hour, there seems to be a brisk
amount of business with fully half the booths having occupants in various
stages of the dining experience.
“The place is open twenty-four hours, seven days a
week, so a lot of night hawks hang out here.” Meers supplies helpfully as
though reading his mind. “I come here almost every night after my shift or my
Mom worries that I’m not eating right.” He mumbles embarrassed.
Liam smiles and looks around the restaurant looking
for some sign of Spike. In front of a booth towards the back he spots two
college age kids each with a pad and pen poised and waiting expectantly over
the paper with their eyes glued on the occupant of the booth. A slightly plump,
older lady with slightly greying dark hair stands between them smiling in a friendly
way with just the faintest streaks of a blush lingering on her cheeks. He
shakes his head and nudges Meers’ arm and motions him to follow him with a look
that just says ‘Trust me Meers.’ And he leads the way to the table.
As they approach, the older Lady smiles widely and
sweeps Meers into an enthusiastic hug that almost lifts him off his feet. Liam
inclines his head politely and slips past them to slide into the booth, his
eyes scanning lightly over everything.
“On the floor, under the
table, between my legs.” Spike states simply, smirking as Liam jerks up straight as a board
and looks very uncomfortable. “Your pack is on the floor, under the table, and
sitting between my legs, so you can stop worrying; it’s safe enough.”
Liam growls menacingly and shoots a dirty look at him
as he realises that he’s the butt of Spike’s little private joke. He tries his
level best to ignore him as he grabs a menu and shoves his face into it reading
urgently.
“Feel free to slip on under and check on it though Mate,
if you want.” Spike says with a soft chuckle, that becomes a quiet laugh as
Liam ignores him and just shoves his face farther into the menu.
Spike smiles at Meers as he finally fights his way
free of his Mother’s hug and slides into the bootrossross from Liam. He turns
his attention to the wait staff and almost chuckles as the young woman and man
both draw themselves up to their full height and thrusts out an impressive
chest and sucks up a slight pot belly respectively. “Could I have a glass of water
and a cup of cocoa please?” They both nod and shooting each other dirty looks
they both head off at rapid walks.
Meers smiles shyly and introduces his Mother. “This is
Roxie Meers, my Mom.” The pride in his voice is clear to all.
Spike smiles and bows gallantly. “I’m William Michael
Bradley, Ma’am but my friends call me Spike. It’s a pleasure to meet you
Ma’am.”
“Oh my, what a lovely voice you have! You’re from England?”
“Yes Ma’am born and bred, I’m here with a contingent
of visitors attending a special symposium at the base. Your son and Colonel
O’Donnell here are being kind enough to show me the sights while I’m staying
here.”
“Oh you’re such a kind boy Warren to be so nice to a
visitor like this.” Meers blushes under his Mother’s praise.
“Colonel Liam O’Donnell
Ma’am.” Liam introduces himself politely. “Your son is an excellent
recruit, we’re lucky to have him assigned to our detail.”
Roxie beams happily and sniffs emotionally trying not
to burst with pride. She does a double take as the same young man and woman
hurry up to the table with a tray holding a glass of water and a cup of cocoa
and blinks confusedly. They pointedly ignore each other and slide their burdens
in front of Spike who only smiles politely.
“One can never have enough water or cocoa.” He says
brightly, lifting a cup of cocoa and taking an eager sip. He ignores the
pointedly arrogant smirk as the young man silently crows that he’s drinking
from the cup he brought him. He sees the stormy expression on the young woman’s
face and leisurely diffuses it by putting down the cup of cocoa and taking a
sip of the water from the glass that she brought. That seems to mollify both of
them as Roxie shoos them off to attend their jobs. o:p>
“Warren here was telling me that
you make the best chicken fried steak in the state Mrs. Meers and I have been
just dying for some good all American food.” Spike says with a smile.
Roxie beams and nods happily. “You just leave
everything to me, as skinny as you boys are you need some of my stick to your
ribs fare!” Roxie plucks the menu out of Liam’s startled hands and hustles off
through the doorway and into the kitchen while Warren and Spike share a glance
and laugh. After a moment Liam joins them.
Spike slides the second cup of cocoa over to Liam as
he notices the subtle yearning glances at the steaming cup and slides a glass
of water over to Warren who smiles and takes a sip gratefully.
“Okay you wanted to ask me some questions then?”
n lan lang=EN-GB>
“I’ve heard a bit about the Watchers Council and about
Slayers…but I don’t understand what the Hunters are for? How do Hunters differ
from Slayers?”
“Okay then, a bit of a history lesson Pet. You know
that there is supposed to be only one active Slayer a time, yes? And that her
power passes to a successor upon her death wherein a new Slayer is created?”
Both Warren and Liam nod. “Well a few years back there was an unfortunate
accident in that the current Slayer was clinically dead; at which time a new
Slayer was called; but the first Slayer was then revived shortly thereafter by
her friends. Now the first Slayer still retains her abilities, so now there are
two Slayers, Ms. Buffy Summers and one firecracker by the name of Faith. Faith
is the true Slayer, in that the lineage now runs through her rather than Ms.
Summers. When and if Ms. Summers should be kil…defeated…then her death will not
activate a new Slayer, because the lineage is now Faith’s burden. Following me
so far?” Both men nod again.
“Why is there only one Slayer at a time?” Warren asks curiously. “I mean
there are surely more places that could use one?”
“Very good question and yes there are. The Slayer’s
purpose has slowly become corrupted over the millennia and they are now no
longer what they once were. You see though there is; these unusual
circumstances aside; only one Slayer in every generation there are literally a
hundred or more potentials as they’re called. These potentials usually always
appear within only certain identified bloodlines so the Watchers Council is
able to identify them through various means both mundane and mystical. While
these potentials do not have all the abilities of a Slayer, they are still
something more than average and each is approached and training is offered. Now
it was once the Slayer’s job to train these possible successors as well as
maintaining the security of certain paranormal hotspots. As humanity ages it is
losing the knowledge that it once had, the beliefs born of the ancient
knowledge of their ancestors, and things that were once contained and
controlled are now free.” Spike says taking a sip of his cocoa.
The trio smiles as Roxie returns holding a tray stand
which she swiftly sets up and nods to the waiter following behind her with a
large tray. He sets the heavy tray down and helps her to unload a veritable
mountain of appetisers which they scatter around the table. She unloads two
pitchers of Orange Juice and Milk and sets two glasses before each of them and pours
them a glass of each with a maternal smile.
“Boys need their vitamins.” say says implacably. “I’ll
bring out the chicken fried steaks when they’re ready. Roasted mashed potatoes,
green beans, and country gravy alright with everyone?”
“It sounds perfectly alright Mrs. Meers. I haven’t had
a feast such as this in way too long. I’m looking forward to it!” Spike says
with a smile, leaning forward and popping a breaded mushroom into his mouth.
Roxie blushes happily and picking up the tray and stand she rushes back to the
kitchen.
“She’s quite a lady Warren and this food is terrific!”
Spike says snatching up an egg roll and biting it in half. Liam nods
emphatically around his mouthful of Mozzarella stick. “What is that?” Spike
asks nodding to the large golden fried monstrosity serving as the centrepiece
of their mountain of appetisers.
“They call it
an Onion Blossom.” Warren says breaking off a
‘petal’ and handing it to Spike who pops it into his mouth and chews
thoughtfully, slowly grinning.
He’s proven right when Roxie returns with three large
take out boxes that she carefully hands out. Spike gives in to temptation and
opens his and groans at the delights carefully arranged inside. It looks like
Roxie’s given them a portion of every pie and dessert they have arranged as a
sampler with various sauces trailing amidst the rich desserts. He looks up at
Roxie and grins. “Adopt me?”
“Thanks for that…giving me a graceful way to get out of
there.” Liam says finally breaking the comfortable silence.
“Don’t mention it Mate. Sorry your Father had to be such
an insensitive ass and all.”
“Oh I’m sure he’s just not used to me being back. I’m
sure he’ll be better once he adjusts.” Liam says quietly.
“If you say so Mate. Here we are. I’m right next door if you
should need anything. I have to get my things and head over to my Godfather’s
place for a bit.”
“What is he tutoring you in? Maybe I can help you too; I
was pretty good with my studies.”
“Oh hey that’s great, I’m struggling a bit with some of
my more obscure studies…some languages are just hard for me to pick up…I always
feel black and blue after some of those lessons.”
He can feel Liam’s eyes on his back as he turns and
leaves for his own room trying not to appear like he’s running away. Even if he is…~
“…Is?”
Spike shakes off the clinging thoughts of the past,
not realising that Liam was talking to him. “Sorry Mate?”
Liam clears his throat and says again. “It’s funny
that we ended up doing almost the same things with our lives. Why do you think
that is?”
“That’s not what I meant Wil…I just meant that I
thought he liked women.” Liam says a little uncomfortable with the topic of
Wil’s love life. “Xander died saving Buffy, he was a hero.”
“It was his job.” Spike says softly. “A hunter is
always assigned to each Slayer.” Liam jerks up into a sitting position staring
aike ike in shock. “Do you REALLY think that anyone that attracted as much
trouble as he did would have lived as long as he had without having a little
something going for him? He never let on just how good he was and just how
extensive his training ”
“So all those pearls of wisdom that would pop up at
strange times that he said was random fallout from
some spell that turned him into a shoulder one Halloween was something else?”
Spike smiles lovingly. “He was always clever. He was
actually possessed if you want to call it that but the knowledge was very real
and so were the skills. That summer he spent ‘travelling’; he was actually in London with me. We took what
time we could but it wasn’t easy to find the time to be together, with his duty
keeping him here and mine always calling me off elsewhere.”
“How long were you…?” Liam lets his voice trail off,
not sure how to phrase it.
“We were together for almost six years.” Spike replies
shooting him a look of disgust.
o:p>
He rolls his hips and stalks forward gracefully, his
muscles contracting fluidly beneath his silken skin and he has to choke back a
laugh at the power that seems to flood through him.
“Why so interested in my evenings Liam?” He purrs softly
crossing the room in a slow stalking glide. He shivers as the weight of Liam’s
stare tracks him the whole way to his bed as he stretches out across the foot
of his bed, curling up on his side to stare back. “Darla’s attentions leaving
something to be desired are they?” He slides his thigh up pivoting his hips to
writhe lightly against the softness of his comforter.
“Don’t talk about her that way! She’s beautiful and sexy
and she’s…she’s worth two of any skanky whore you could pick up!”
“Well at least you didn’t try to say she was smart, so
you’re not totally delusional yet.” He chuckles as Liam fumes. “As for skanky
whores, as I said before, not really my thing now is it. I’ll leave thevatevate
school debutantes to you Mate. I prefer my dates have a bit more of a…bite to
them.” He draws his fingertips across the scratches on his chest and
unconsciously writhes against the comforter again, his head lolling back as he
stretches in a boneless sprawl against the dark green.
tyletyle='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>
His instincts tell him that his lightly tanned skin, dark
jeans, and unusual hair are shown off to their best advantage against the dark
silk. He doesn’t know what is moving him to these ancient rhy but but the
feeling is coming ing and addictive as it floods through his blood carrying a
power he has never dreamed of. It feels like his blood is liquid fire, setting
every nerve to smouldering with an aching heat that throbs and pulses, pounding
his body as ceaselessly as the waves washing over the beach.
l'>
He rolls onto his back, arching against the bed as he
runs his hands slowly up his body and up over his head pressing his palms down
until his body is arched as taut as a bow string. He has never felt more alive
than he does at this moment, with every atom of his body straining and
screaming to reach out and take, to possess, to surrender, to own, to corrupt,
and to worship at the altar of Liam’s body. The chuckle that has been trying to
rip and tear its way out of his throat finally makes its escape in a joyous cry
of happy depravity that has Liam quivering in reaction.
He slowly lets his muscles relaxing, flowing liquidly
against his bed. “Tell me Liam, don’t you ever long for something MORE when you
touch her? They are so soft, pleasant to touch, so different, so alien to all
that you are, do you never want for anything MORE? I do Liam, I want MORE, more
than the softness, more than the emptiness when I am never filled so full that
ever atom of my body is filled to overflowing by another’s body. They are
pleasant diversions now and then do not mistake my meaning but they are never
enough. I NEED the planes of muscle, the sharpness of teeth, the strength that
matches my own, I need to be taken, possessed, utterly and completely by
someone who can be my equal, a partner, someone to complete me. Have you ever
felt that way Liam? Have you ever yearned and longed to know that even as you
own, even as you break another to your will, that you are owned, marked, as
much a slave as you are the master?”
“I’m not GAY. I’m not…not like that. I’m…” He smiles at the breathless stutter
in Liam’s voice.“Labels, boxes, signs, names, do you need them to define
who you are Liam? Does what you WANT, what you NEED, mean nothing compared to
the safety of those politically correct post-it noyou you try to categorize
your whole bloody world with like the anal retentive WANKER that you are?” He
rolls to his side and fluidly to his feet, stalking across the room following
Liam as he hastily backs away to press his back against the wall.
He doesn’t stop until their bodies are pressed so tightly
together that the buttons of his shirt are digging their impressions into his
already abused chest. “DON’T try to put your labels on me Liam. They won’t
stick and I’ll always confuse you and surprise you, and make you ache and burn
until not even you can deny that I can do THAT…” He rubs his hips into Liam’s,
purring as their erections tease together. “…To you.” He tilts his head and
strokes his cheek along Liam’s jaw in a slow caress that has Liam’s hips
jerking in reaction. He smiles gently, still nuzzling his jaw as he feels his
arms close around him and tighten rather than pull him away. “You feel it too
don’t you?” He asks leaning back and looking up into Liam’s eyes and his breath
catches. It’s there in his eyes, the same knowledge that flares inside his most
private dreams, that melody that whispers constantly in his ear capturing his
soul beyond even the most seductive Siren’sg. Hg. He is the one.
He gasps and hisses as Liam picks him up and spins them
around until he has him pressed between the wall and his body and he chuckles
again, nipping playfully at his jaw only to soothe the ache with soft sweeps of
his tongue. Something rolls and coils deep inside him, boiling and simmering
with a constant pulsing heat that tugs at his inside, demands, wants, needs, to
join to the body pressed so tightly to his. “What do you want Liam? What do you
need?” His arms wrap tightly around the broad form holding him off the floor
and pressed tightly to the wall. The position he’s in should be making him feel
vulnerable, trapped, and victimized but instead he feels protected, cosseted,
and cared for. It’s a strange dichotomy of conflicting emotions and
circumstances and he knows that if he was in this position with any one else,
he’d be inflicting serious damage. What is it about Liam that steals his will
away, makes him want to roll over and beg to be stroked and petted like a
kitten? His Stepbrother has been a royaln inn in the ass these last few months,
constantly belittling him every chance he gets and being just a general all
around bloody Prick. He doesn’t know what caused him to turn on him but being
pressed against him; he’s starting to wonder if the reasons aren’t more
complicated than he first thought. He’d assumed that not having had a real
Mother figure in his life that Liam had become jealous of his Mother’s time and
regard or upset that his wanker of a Father made it obvious he preferred his
company over his blood son.
“It doesn’t matter what I want or what I need Wil.” He
can almost hear the desperation and heartbreak. “It doesn’t matter what you
want or what you need, I can’t give you either; ever. I’m going to apply to a
college in the States. We’ll probably never see each other once I leave. You’ll
get on with your life, while I get on with mine. What does it matter what we
want or what we need? What matters is what we do.”
“How so very noble of you Liam, taking your middle name
to heart are we Mate? You just HAVE to be everyone’s bloody Guardian Angel,
have to save us all even if we don’t want to be saved, don’t you?” Anger deeper
than any he’s ever known floods through him, even as tears try to rip their way
from the prison of his eyelids. “You’ve been acting like you can walk on water;
I don’t know why I’m surprised that you’d try to climb up on the cross too.” A
violent twisted and a well timed shove and he’s free. He lands lightly dropping
into a low crouch, his hands braced between his legs, his fingernails scraping
against the wood as his hands clench and open spasmodically. He can feel
something deep inside him starting to stir and awaken, pulsing liquid fire
through his veins. He tries to force his feelings down deep inside and lock
them away trying to centre himself and reach for serenity as his Godfather has
tried to teach him.
After several tense moments the fire is slowly absorbed
and locked away once more and he relaxes his muscles in grateful relief, only
barely noticing as Liam steps forward to place a shaking hand on his shoulder.
He doesn’t shake off the comfort of his touch, Liam’s hand moves slowly to the
k ofk of his head, stroking his hair and pulling gently. He turns his cheek and
rests it on the powerful thigh and wraps his arms loosely around the strength
of Liam’s legs and lets himself be comforted.
It comes as a great shock when his door opens quietly on
a shocked gasp, only to be flung open so violently it cracks the plaster of the
wall behind it as it ricochets off with the violence.
“What in the bloody hell is going on here?!!”
The next few minutes are all a blur as Liam is violently
ripped away from him by his Father and struck viciously until he is a ball of
quivering pain and misery beneath his kicking legs. He’s still not sure what
made him snap but the next thing he knows he’s standing over his Stepfather’s
unconscious body with Liam pulling him off and wrapping his arms around him
tightly as they cling together and try to make sense of what happened. He’s
vaguely aware that his Mother has at some point arrived and is crouched beside
them stroking their hair and trying to talk to them, asking frantic questions.
He knows he answered, he can feel his vocal cords vibrating but he’s damned if
he knows what he’s said but it must have been enough. She leaves them and he’s
vaguely aware of her using his bedside telephone but then she is back and they
scramble back into her embrace. He remembers being cold, and making small
sounds of discomfort as his muscles spastically clench and relax, beyond even
his Mother’s soothing touch to ease away.
He’s hyper-aware of every single thing going on around
him but for some reason he cannot stir from the embrace of his Mother and Liam.
He’s aware that his Godfather Giles arrives and he’s aware of the angry voices
of his Mother and him discussing something in harsh tones. He’s aware of Giles
grabbing Sean and pulling him roughly out of the room with an inventive flurry
of muttered curses. His world was as it had always been, Liam and his Mother, heart
and soul.~
A hint of movement and the soft sounds of a sigh pull
him from the reveries of the past and he watches as Liam rolls onto his side to
face him, his eyes opening slowly.
“Wil? What’s going on?” His
voice is gruff with sleep, sounding very much like a little boy’s at the moment
and Spike has to smile.
“You just drifted off to sleep Mate, that’s all and I
covered you up so you’d be more comfortable.” He leans forward and pulls the
quilt higher over his shoulder, tucking it around him gently.
“What are you doing?”
cla class=MsoNormal style='margin-top:0in;margin-right:18.75pt;margin-bottom:“Just remembering and thinking Pet, that’s all. Go
back to sleep.” He reaches out and strokes his hair for a few moments, smiling
as Liam’s eyes lower and his breathing evens out and deepens as he relaxes
under the gentle caresses.
“Wil…Buffy’s a Slayer…what do they expect you to do
against her? Please tell me the truth.” His voice is strong but his tone is
soft.
“If she fights being retired, than they expect me to
subdue her so they can administer the sedatives that will keep her quiet and
allow them the time to complete the spell.”
“How can you fight a Slayer Spike? If she gets that
violent she could hurt you!” Liam growls.
“She won’t be the first one that’s tried Liam. I doubt
she’ll be the last. Faith wasn’t overly receptive at first either.”
“You had to fight Faith?! Wait and you WON?” Spike
nods. “But Buffy is stronger than Faith Spike.”
“Don’t worry Liam, I’m stronger than I look too and
motivated. Being the Slayer is a death sentence, even if they don’t die in the
course of their duties. No Slayer has been active as long as Buffy has and
you’ve seen some indications of why. Usually by now their death wishes have
kicked in and their will to win becomes a will to lose. It’s funny in a way but
I think in the end they defeat themselves. They just start thinking that they
can’t lose to the point that they get overconfident to the point of arrogance
and start to make stupid mistakes. Once the spell was performed and Faith had
some time to adjust she came to realize that what happened was for the best.
She’ll make an outstanding potential trainer one of these days, I have no
doubt.”
“But why do you have to do this Wil? Can’t Charles or
one of the others?”
“For every Slayer, there has always been a Hunter
Liam. Gunn is a Hunter by choice, as are Wesley and Anya and at one time as
Giles was. They are some of the best that there are.”
“And you Wil?” Liam asks softly. “What about you?”
“I am not one of the best Liam. I AM the best. Buffy
will retire and her place will be taken by another, young Ken if if I were to
guess, will be the next called. What has to happen will happen and we’ll all
learn to deal with that and get on with our lives. You and Buffy will have your
happy, shiny future together, if that is what you want. I’ll go where the
Council sends me and do what needs to be done and I’ll live in the moments
between them.”
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo