Adult-FanFiction.org : Buffy

No such thing as coincidences	By : All4Spike Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Threesomes/Moresomes > Angel(us)/Buffy/Spike(William) > Angel(us)/Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 6096 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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 List
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer: Spike’s not mine… wish he were... If he were mine he’d be allowed to be a lot happier… most of the time. Buffy, Dawn, the Scoobies, Angel and his team… none of them are mine. They all belong to the blessed Joss Whedon, and Mutant Enemy (Grr Aaargh). I’m just borrowing them to play with for a while.

Dedicated to James Marsters, without whom Spike would not be the passionate, sensitive, tragic, funny, romantic, pathetic, violent, beautiful, loyal, vulnerable, impulsive, sympathetic, loving, infuriating, emotional and sexy character he is.

Continuity:
In BtVS: From immediately after Buffy beat Spike up in ‘Dead things’ (S6:13), through ‘Older and far away’ (although Spike and Clem weren’t at the party), but before ‘As you were’.

In Ats: Coming in at the end of ‘Couplet’, (S3:14), the morning after Cordy & Groo go off on their holiday, but before ‘Loyalty’. I’ve taken the liberty of altering the Ats timeline slightly so Connor’s blood has already been nicked and Angel’s stock of butcher’s blood has already been doctored.

All from Spike’s POV. Obviously other events, reactions, conversations, discussions and revelations will be occurring elsewhere, (sort of off-screen) but you’ll just have to fill those blanks in for yourself.

This is my first ever fic... please let me know what you think of it........

I'd like to thank Gill for her invaluable input when the plot bunnies either rebelled and went on strike or went on the rampage and took me way off course.

‘No such thing as coincidences.’

Chapter one.

Spike was slumped in the chair in front of the dark TV in his crypt, hugging the nearly empty whisky bottle to his chest, pondering the events of the night.

Buffy had fought to get past his restraining arms, and ended up throwing him to the ground. God he loved the fact she was so strong, so much stronger than him, such a turn-on. It had its drawbacks though, particularly on occasions like this when she lost her temper with him. She’d yelled at him “I am NOT your girl! You don't ... have a soul! There is nothing… good or clean… in you. You are dead inside! You can't feel… anything real! I could never... be… your… girl!” punctuating each outburst with her fist. When she’d finally stopped hitting him, and through his one half-open eye he had seen the horrified expression on her beautiful face, he though he had finally won his point. He had muttered “You always hurt ... the one you love Pet”. But no, he had failed after all, she had silently got to her feet, avoided his outflung hand, ignored his muffled plea “Buffy….” and calmly walked into the Police Station. So he had stumbled through the dark alleys back to his cold lonely crypt and grabbed the bottle.

Once more his Slayer had twisted the knife in the wound… he didn’t have a soul. She could never lower herself to love him. Not the way she loved that bloody poof Angel. A familiar searing jab of jealousy shot through him. She would only even admit to liking him ‘sometimes’. “Bitch!” However much he tried to prove his devotion to her, his loyalty, however much he watched her back, fought beside her, tried to help her, however much he tried to change for her, she still couldn’t accept his love, still couldn’t trust him enough to return it. How much could a man take? How much pain and rejection and humiliation should he be expected to endure?

The alcohol had done its job and deadened the pain sufficiently so that at last he could prop the bottle between his legs and explore his battered and bruised face with his hands. He winced as he carefully wiggled the fragments of his broken jaw into a more comfortable position, and picked out the chip of bone sticking into his swollen tongue. He vamped out briefly to check his teeth… yes, as he’d thought; she’d managed to knock out his upper left fang. “Damn…” it was a right pain… they took so long to regenerate. He gave a rueful chuckle… “Just as well I don’t use them in anger any more”.

He checked his cheekbones. When she was feeling friendly she gently traced their outline with her fingers, and even though she’d never said so, he knew she thought they were one of his best features… and found that the left one was shattered and out of alignment. “You’d think if she admired the bloody cheekbones so much she’d avoid smashing them up wouldn’t you?” He grumbled to himself, gingerly manipulating his flesh into what felt like the proper shape. “Times like this I could do with a sodding mirror… and a reflection to show up in it. I wonder if I’m going to end up lopsided this time?” Then finally, with practiced ease, he straightened his frequently broken nose.

Everything he tried to do for her went wrong. He had promised to protect Dawn, and he’d failed miserably. He’d had to watch his beautiful Slayer dive to her death despite all his efforts to prevent it. He had only just managed to survive those 147 lonely empty days without her by devoting himself to caring for the Little Bit… watching over her and making sure she was safe, perching on the roof outside her bedroom window through all those nightmares, singing to her softly until the desperate whimpering had faded into quiet, natural breathing, and she was soothed into gentler dreams.

Then Red and the Scoobies had done their spell and brought her back. At first when she had confided in him about what had happened to her he’d thought they were going to be friends, as they had started to become before that ghastly night at the tower. That she would at last understand she could trust him and allow herself to love him as he loved her. But it hadn’t turned out like that. She had become angry and withdrawn. She had finally turned to him, but not to be close, not for comfort and friendship, and certainly not for love. All she had wanted was violence, pain and punishment. He wasn’t sure whether she was trying to punish him or herself, but in the end her intention didn’t matter, because whichever she had wanted she had ended up hurting them both. He had tried to be there for her, to give her what she wanted, what she needed, but there was something wrong. She wasn’t getting better, she was closing up even more tightly into herself and drifting even further away from him.

Then tonight… he had understood that she was distraught by the death of that poor girl, he really had, but he hadn’t been able just to stand by and watch her throw her life away. Of course once more his attempt to help her had gone pear-shaped. He deserved her scorn for getting it wrong again, but not for the fact that he’d tried… “Do I never get points for sodding trying?” he yelled into the darkness in frustration.

His drunken guilt and misery was turning to anger and resentment. He sat up a bit… grunting as a stabbing pain shot through his side. Perhaps a couple of ribs had gone too? “So she thinks she doesn’t need me does she? She thinks she can get along better without me does she? Perhaps she should find out….. Perhaps next time she comes calling begging for help when the Bit wanders off, or wants to take out her anger on me by jumping my soulless vampire bones, her Spikey just won’t bloody well be here waiting…” He swigged the last of the whisky from the bottle and threw it against the wall, where it produced a satisfying smash.

He lurched out of the chair and stumbled down the ladder into the tunnel where he gathered up a few bits and pieces… a couple of T shirts, his spare pair of jeans, the unfortunately thin bundle of cash he kept secreted behind a loose rock in the wall, and miraculously, a lovely full bottle of whisky he’d forgotten was there. Then he made his way erratically to where his beloved old DeSoto Sportsman was parked, threw everything into the back seat fired up the engine and hit the road.

Where should he go? Did it even matter? He picked a direction through the town at random, eventually found himself on a highway, and put his foot down. The line he followed wasn’t exactly straight, but he didn’t stray onto the verge too often, and the last of the night passed as he began to put the miles between himself and his lady.

When the sky began to lighten, he pulled off the road behind a deserted and boarded up gas station, switched off the engine, and crawled into the back seat to sleep, clutching the bottle of whisky that strangely didn’t appear to be full any more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he woke he could tell the sun was beginning to set… and oh yes… his head was trying very hard to explode. “Oh God!” he moaned, lifting the bottle from where it had come to rest under his ear, but he found it disappointingly empty. He clambered painfully back into the driver’s seat and moved the car over to the broken down gas pumps. Squinting at the closest one through one bloodshot half open eye, he put his long years of practice to use and expertly transferred the few remaining gallons of leftover fuel into his tank.

A few miles down the road he passed a sign telling him he was approaching L.A. “Oh sod it, how come I ended up heading for Angel’s bloody territory? Still… a city that size, it should be easy enough to keep clear of him”.

For the next few days he managed to keep himself comfortably drunk as the bones in his face began to knit, and his eyes finally opened, allowing him to see properly. Then suddenly one day his booze and smokes were all gone, as was the cash, and reluctantly and painfully he sobered up, which was when he realised his stomach was growling at him. How long was it since he’d fed? It must be over a week now… probably nearer to two. Why on earth hadn’t he thought to grab the bottle of pig’s blood out of the fridge when he left? Also… he had become unaccustomed to sleeping all cramped up in the car and it was no fun after the big comfy bed in the crypt, he was developing a permanent crick in his back.

Mournfully he tried to think of some way to acquire blood, smokes and booze without cash, and came up empty. In the old days he would have just killed a shopkeeper, fed on him or her, and taken what he wanted. This option was no longer open to him. “Sodding soldier boys and their stupid bloody chip,” he complained… then upon reflection he reluctantly admitted to himself that even if the chip hadn’t been a factor he wouldn’t have fed on a human. It just didn’t feel right any more. “Bloody Slayer… she’s gone and turned the Big Bad into a Big Sodding Softie!”

Briefly he wondered how she was getting on without him… had she even noticed yet that he was gone? Had Dawn been to the crypt and found it deserted? Sometimes she popped in after school for a chat… Buffy was leaving her on her too much these days… perhaps he ought to go back and check on her? He forced himself to stop thinking about them. “First priority… blood” He rummaged through the stuff scattered over the seats and floor of the car “Anything here I can sell?” But he came up with nothing but empty bottles, crumpled cigarette packets, and other useless trash. “Bugger. Now what?”

He wandered the streets of LA for a few more nights, looking out for demons he could kill for their cash, and managed to get into a few satisfying brawls, but it didn’t take long for the word to spread among the locals that there was a new vamp in town who was breaking all the rules. They set an ambush for him. In his weakened state he walked right into it, and once more he found himself battered and bruised, with yet more broken bones, and hungry. Hungrier. Bloody starving. He’d had to move the buckle on his belt over two notches to stop his jeans falling down for pity’s sake!

“I’m a pathetic excuse for a vampire” he admitted to himself, once more lolling uncomfortably in the back seat of the car waiting to heal. “I haven’t got a soul like Angel’s stopping me from feeding. I should just get out there and kill someone. Plenty of people in this city of lost souls who wouldn’t be missed… If only it wasn’t for this buggering chip in my head!” Then he sighed in defeat “No... I just couldn’t do it”. He idly turned the pages of the newspaper he’d picked up on the street, looking for inspiration for a solution to his problems, and suddenly noticed the date printed at the top of the page. “Oh Hell! Now I’ve missed her birthday! She’ll never forgive me for that... and I promised Dawnie I’d pop in at the party… I’ve gone and blown it with both of them!” He ran his fingers roughly through his unkempt curls, clutching at his sore head, and suddenly desperate sobs racked his body. He curled up into a tight ball of misery, and eventually fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he woke up again it was to violent shaking, and something crashing repeatedly on the roof of the car. He peered out into the darkness and discovered that there were three kids on mountain bikes using his precious Desoto as a ramp for their stunts. He flung open a door and tumbled out shouting “Sod off you wankers! Leave a body to sleep in peace can’t you?” They yelled back in derision, but then as Spike moved under a street light they went quiet and quickly melted away. Spike realised he had vamped out in his shock and anger, and crawled back into the car in shame.

He sighed deeply. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, time to admit defeat”. He cleared the driving seat of junk, settled in and started the engine. It took less than half an hour to get there, but sitting outside in the car it took him another two hours to summon up the courage actually to go in, and he only convinced himself to do so as the sun peeked over the horizon, “Have to move now or I’ll be stuck in the damned car until tonight”.

“Posh digs,” he thought to himself as he took in the hotel lobby. Nobody about. He cautiously approached the desk, prepared to turn and run at a moment’s notice. He knew he wouldn’t be welcome. A skinny but attractive girl emerged from the office and asked if she could help him. “Angel about?” he asked politely.

“He’s upstairs feeding Connor” she replied.

Spike was mystified, but decided the questions could wait until he knew whether he was going to survive long enough to take an interest in the answers. “I wonder if you would please be so kind as to tell him he has a visitor... it’s kind of important.”

“Who shall I say is here?” She asked.

Now that was a poser… if he told her to say ‘Spike’ he knew he wouldn’t get time to explain himself, and the little girl would be getting out the dustpan and brush. “Er… could you tell him a member of his family is asking for sanctuary please?” That would at least give him a few minutes of grace to try to convince Angel not to stake him right away, you don’t refuse a request for sanctuary from a vampire of your own bloodline without a very good reason.

She nodded, regarded him with obvious unspoken questions of her own, and then disappeared up the stairs. Spike sat on the round blue sofa thing in the centre of the lobby, belatedly trying to think of what he could possibly say to Angel to persuade him not to kill him, and to let him stay until he could get himself sorted out. While he was nervously nibbling at his broken nails a bright green demon with red horns wearing a violently clashing turquoise suit emerged from somewhere in the back of the hotel and started rummaging among the things piled on the desk behind the counter. He glanced up at Spike and asked, “Have you seen Fred? I can’t find the book I need.”

“No, sorry. I’ve not seen anyone except the little Texan bird, she’s gone to get Angel for me.”

The demon laughed, “Oh, that is Fred... it’s Winifred really, but she prefers Fred. She’ll be back in a moment then.”

Spike heard a distant bellow from the upper floors of the hotel, followed by rapid footsteps. “Angel’s coming now…” he said quietly.

The demon looked at him in puzzlement “Really? How do you know?”

“I can hear him.” He swallowed nervously, stood up, and waited for the enraged vampire to appear.

The familiar figure ran down the stairs into the lobby… the girl panting in pursuit... then stopped short, almost causing her to crash into his broad back. Spike was shocked to see he was gently cradling a small child… a baby in fact.

“Spike!” Angel spat the name out. He stood glaring across the room, which suddenly wasn’t big enough for Spike’s comfort.

“Er…. You’re looking cosy Angel… who’s the nipper? You gone and got yourself a miracle child then?” Spike joked uneasily.

Angel actually managed to look embarrassed. “As a matter of fact… yes.” He suddenly, and very unexpectedly, grinned. “This is my son… Connor.”

“Good God!” Spike breathed, “I was bloody joking! You really went and got yourself a baby? How?” A sudden thought came to him… is this why Buffy was so unhappy? “Er… does the Slayer know? She didn’t say anything to me about it!”

Angel regarded him with puzzlement. “Why on earth would Buffy be talking to you about anything? And no she doesn’t know. Well... at least I haven’t told her… I didn’t quite know how to… bit of a tricky topic to bring up”. He looked rather shamefaced.

Spike suddenly burst out laughing. “Oh boy, and I thought I was in her bad books, just wait until she hears about this… I’ll suddenly be the blue eyed boy again!” He grinned wickedly and approached the desk. “Give us the phone then, oh this is delicious, I can’t wait to hear what she’ll say! She might even forgive me for missing her birthday party! As for the Little Bit… she’ll sure give you an earful… fancy having a baby and not sharing the cuddling rights! She’ll never forgive you!”

“Birthday party? Little bit of what? What are you babbling on about Spike?” Angel shook himself slightly and the baffled expression reverted to the usual angry one he wore when faced with this irritating blonde, “and what on earth are you doing here claiming sanctuary? Do you honestly think I’d let you stay here and ravage my city at your leisure? Particularly after what happened last time you were here.”

Spike stopped laughing abruptly and took a deep unneeded breath to steady his nerves. “You haven’t been keeping up with events in Sunnydale have you Peaches? I don’t ravage any more. I couldn’t even if I wanted to, which by the way I don’t. This military monster squad called ‘The Initiative’ put a behaviour modification chip in my brain a couple of years ago. It causes me agonising pain in my head if I even try to hurt humans.”

“The Initiative?” Angel interrupted, “that rings a bell, I think those were the chaps I ran into during World War Two, remember our submarine trip? I think they were the ones who coerced me into that little adventure.”

Spike glared at Angel for interrupting, and continued, “Anyway, I can still fight demons, so I’ve been on the Slayer’s team for a while now. It’s just that we had this little misunderstanding and I figured I’d better clear out of her way for a bit. Unfortunately I’ve just realised I’ve missed her bloody birthday, and I promised Dawnie I’d go to the party, and now the little misunderstanding will have become a sodding big misunderstanding… with both my girls… and it’s going to take a bit more that a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates to fix this one... and I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare mug of blood I could have while we talk about this? I left in a bit of a hurry and didn’t bring any supplies with me and it’s been a couple of weeks now… and… oh… er… um… I’m sorry about torturing you and stuff….” Spike ran out of steam, flopped down on the sofa thing again, dropped his weary head into his hands and waited for Angel to gather his wits and pick his jaw up off the floor.

“You were invited to Buffy’s birthday party? I don’t believe you! Why on earth would she want you there of all people? You were the one who was always trying to kill her!” Then after a couple of seconds, “and what do you mean by ‘both your girls’?”

Before Spike could answer, the baby in Angel’s arms started squirming and whimpering, and Angel began looking around him distractedly. “Oh heck, where did I put that bottle, did I bring it downstairs with me?” Clearly not seeing what he was seeking, Angel answered himself. “Obviously not. Lorne, pop up and get it would you? Then we’ll get you to read Spike here before I kill him. Have to be sure before I refuse sanctuary.”

The demon shot Angel an astonished glance, gave Spike a matching one, said “certainly Angelcakes,” and then turned and trotted up the stairs.

Angel joined Spike on the sofa, and started crooning to his fretting son, giving Spike a clear view of a rather crumpled but completely human baby’s face, and an unpleasant noise in his ears. Well two unpleasant noises actually, he could never stand the sound of a baby crying, and on top of that Angel’s voice was… well… just plain bad. “Oh shut up Angel,” he ordered quietly, “that ghastly noise you’re making would make any baby cry,” and he started softly singing an old lullaby.

Hush, little baby, don't say a word.
Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird,

And if that mockingbird won't sing,
Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

The baby had turned his head to stare at Spike. He was suddenly quiet, and very still, clearly listening to the singing. Spike whispered “You like that do you pet? OK then”…

And if that diamond ring turns brass,
Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass,

And if that looking glass gets broke,
Papa's gonna buy you a billy goat,

And if that billy goat won't pull,
Papa's gonna buy you a cart and bull,

And if that cart and bull fall down,
You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town.

As he was half way through the last couplet a full baby’s bottle appeared in Angel’s hand, and was immediately inserted into the waiting mouth where it was attacked with considerable enthusiasm. Spike looked up and found he had an audience. Why was everyone staring at him? Angel was regarding him sideways as if he was an alien, the little Texan girl, Fred, was grinning at him, the huge black bloke who had materialised next to her was smiling too. As for the green demon, he was regarding Spike with nothing short of awe. “What?” Spike asked, looking around at each person in turn. No answer. “What?” he repeated. “Why are you all looking at me like that? Have I grown horns like the Jolly Green Demon here?”

Angel finally found his tongue. “You were singing Spike”. As if that answered his question.

“Yes Angel. I do that quite often you know. Always have. I’ve been getting a lot of practice in lullabies recently as a matter of fact. The Niblet was having some terrible nightmares while the Slayer was dead. Pity I didn’t have the guitar with me, it works better accompanied.”

Angel actually managed to look even more astonished. Eventually he transferred his gaze to the green demon and asked “Well Lorne?”

The demon was just standing there like a statue, and while Angel waited for him to answer another man entered the hotel. He was tall and slim, good-looking but a bit scruffy. He took in the silent group, all intent upon Spike, and asked in a very pleasant English accent “All right, what’s going on? Cordelia is going to be really upset if she misses something big while she’s away on holiday you know”.

Spike grinned up at him. “The lovely Cordy’s away? Oh that’s a shame I was looking forward to renewing our acquaintance,” he remarked. Then he reconsidered, suddenly realised that the joke really wasn’t very funny, and the smile faded… “Well, perhaps not… we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms last time I was in town.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend, Angel?” asked the newcomer.

“He’s not my friend!” Angel declared emphatically to the room in general, “He’s sort of part of my family, the vampire line of Aurelius. His name is Spike, otherwise known as William the Bloody. You’ve probably heard of him Wes. He has just turned up out of the blue and claimed Sanctuary. It seems he’s upset Buffy in some way and is in fear for his life. Again.”

“Oh yes, Spike.” Remarked Wesley with a frown, “I have heard of him. My father ran in to him somewhere in Europe shortly before I was born, not a happy occasion for him. Would you like me to do the honours with the stake Angel?”

Spike opened his mouth to protest… but closed it again when the telephone started ringing. Fred reached over and answered it “Angel Investigations, we help the helpless”. After a pause she looked up at Spike with a startled expression and said “Yes, as a matter of fact he is sitting right in front of me… I’ll pass the phone over.”

Surprised, Spike stood up, took the receiver she held out to him, and tentatively said “Hello?” Immediately he yelped loudly and pulled it about two feet from his ear. Sitting on a stool by the reception desk he took a deep breath and carefully drew it back again. “No need to shout Dawnie, Vampire hearing still works over the phone you know!”………. “Yes I’m fine Pet, quite safe for now.” He glanced up at Angel’s stunned expression and added, “At least I think so… I just needed to get away for while is all, to heal up you know.”………. “Just a few bones this time luv, don’t worry, the jaw, nose, cheek, one fang, perhaps a few ribs. How’s the arm? The plaster’s off now isn’t it?”……… “Of course it’s going to be a bit sore for a while, it’s only natural. Red doing penance?”………. “Still on the wagon eh? Good on her! That’s really brave of her. Oh, any word on that poor girl? Slayer did tell you about that didn’t she? The one we found in the woods?”………. “Well I knew there had to be some explanation, those strange demons, and time going all wonky and everything. Big Sis was convinced she’d killed her herself, and of course my feeble attempts to put things right just made matters worse. When she tried to turn herself in to the Police I couldn’t do a bloody thing to stop her, she just steamrollered right over me as usual, hence all the broken bones.”……..… “Warren and his mates? Warren’s that Robot Boy right?” ………….. “Bloody wanker… I should have ripped his sodding head off…” ……….. “Er… sorry Pet, I’ll put something in your swear box when I get back, okay? Slayer all right?” ……… He grinned gleefully. “Is that right? Been asking around after me has she? Do her good for once, to not have me come running like her little lapdog... Oh… but I’m sorry I missed the party love, got a bit drunk and lost track of the days you know.”……..... “No I bloody didn’t go off in a huff and climb into a bottle again!” He paused for a moment and realised that that was exactly what he had done. “Er... well perhaps I did… just a bit…” He chuckled softly. “You know me so well Pet… Hey!… how did you know where I am? Nobody knew where I was going, not even Clem my poker buddy… not even me for that matter, I could have ended up anywhere. I wasn’t exactly choosing my route very carefully at the time.”………. “Sneaky little witch. How long did it take to persuade her?”………. “Who have you told?”…….. “Well we’d better keep it that way for now Pet… although you’d better let Willow know where I am. I don’t know if the whammy works over the phone, but there’d be no harm in trying if she gets desperate.” ………… “Of course, if Big Sis asks you must tell her you’ve spoken to me, but I’d rather she didn’t know where I am for now. Say I didn’t tell you, that’s no lie. There’s no need to let her know Tara found me with the locator spell. Now you know where I am if you need me.”…………. “Rupert? I thought he was back home in good old England? What does he want with me?”……….. “Okay love I’ll give him a ring in a minute and find out what’s going on… I won’t be ringing you at home for a while of course…”………… “Tara’s? Right then, after school.” Spike checked the clock on the wall. “You’re going to be late you know… Oh damn, your French book was still in my crypt, did you find it in time to hand in your essay? I’d made a few notes for you.”…….….. “A+? Bloody marvellous Niblet, I knew you’d get it with a bit of hard graft, it was just your tenses that had gone a bit astray.”……… “Italian? No, I never got the hang of that one love, and the Spanish is a bit rusty, probably a bit out of date too, it’s about 80 years since Madrid. Let’s see, what else is there? You’ve pried all the French and Turkish out of me, how about Latin or Greek? Lots of spells come in them.”………… “Too ordinary? Oh you need something to show off to Janice with is it?” ……..… “Chinese? No, sorry kitten, it’s a complete mystery to me. Um…. Russian? It’s got that weird alphabet though, I can speak it all right, but as for reading it… it’s a bit difficult.”…………. “Er… demon languages would be a bit tricky to explain to Janice love, better stick to human. You should ask Rupert about that anyway, after all he was a Fyarl demon that time… although come to think of it he thought he was speaking English, it was just lucky that I speak Fyarl so I could understand him. Oh! I know, how about Etruscan? I’ve just thought, that old Turkish spell book I saw in your room has a few pages in Etruscan in the back… ask Anya if you can see if there are any more old Etruscan texts at the Magic Box and we’ll give that a go next. Just make sure to check with her that they’re safe, we don’t want any more unexpected magical side effects, we’ve had enough of those for a while…”………... “Grounded? How’s that then?”………. “A Vengeance Demon? Oh Hell love, what have you been getting into now? I knew I shouldn’t have left you……..” ………….. “Shoplifting? Oh Dawnie pet… if I’d known helping you break into the Magic Box that night would lead you over to the dark side I’d have packed you straight back to bed instead.” ………… “Before then?”………. “Oh I see. Well we’re still going to have words about this when I get back, you know that don’t you? If Big Sis thinks I’m being a bad influence she’ll cut off my visiting rights. Look love, I’m getting a few funny looks here, and you are going to miss the whole of first period and the Slayer will be bound to find a way to blame that on me too even if I’m not there. Pass the phone over to Tara and get yourself off there’s a good girl.”……………. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, I promised Anya I’d be at the wedding though, so it won’t be more than another couple of weeks.”……………… “I love you too Pet, bye for now.”

Spike stretched luxuriously, looked around him at his rapt audience, and grinned widely at Angel. “You didn’t believe me did you?” He could see the questions bubbling up in his Grandsire, who was beginning to look as if he might explode. He held up one forefinger. “Hang on, I’ll be with you in a minute, I’ll answer all your questions… after I’ve had a word with Tara”.

“Hi Tara luv, how’s things?”………….. “Is that right? A demon with an enchanted sword? Niblet left that part out, but she told me about the Vengeance demon, the lock-in and the shoplifting. The Slayer really should consider not celebrating her birthday, there always seems to be some disaster!”…………. “You’re all OK then?”………… “So you saw Willow at the party? How’s she doing?”…………. “Good for her! And good for you too ducks, you should try to stick up for yourself a bit more, it’s possible to be too good to others you know, you have to be good to yourself as well.” …………. “Oh she told you about that then? I thought she might eventually.”…….. “No demon? Oh thank God! I didn’t really think so but she was so freaked I couldn’t help myself, I just had to dig the knife in and twist it a little bit, you know me. That fight had some interesting consequences though.” ……………. “She told you about that too? I must admit I never saw that coming!” ………... “Oh that’s sweet, thanks luv. Look here Tara, Dawnie is never going to be able to stop herself blabbing that she’s found me, what’s the reaction likely to be?” …………. “Guess I’ll just have to wait for the eruption then. Look sweetie, I’ve got Angel and his whole team staring at me as if I’m a freak in a side-show, and despite all he heard of my chat with the Niblet, he still doesn’t really believe I’m on the home team now, have a word with him and set him straight about a few things would you?”……….. “Yes I promise I’ll ring Rupert as soon as we’ve finished, what’s got his knickers in a knot I wonder? Must be pretty serious if he feels the need to talk to me”……….. “He didn’t tell you either? Oh Hell, it’s getting me worried now… I’ll let you know if there’s anything needs to be done your end. I’ll be back for the wedding anyway, count on it. OK then, bye Pet, here’s Angel.”

Spike passed the receiver over to Angel who tucked it under one ear so he could continue feeding his son, and relaxed back against the counter to enjoy watching the startling range of expressions now passing over those familiar features. Angel didn’t say much, there were just a few brief questions: “He really saved her life?”…….... “How many times?” …….… “The whole summer?”.………. “He really helps Dawn with her homework?”
Finally Angel replaced the receiver, and just sat there, staring speechlessly at the grinning blonde in front of him, who said “I’ll just give the Watcher a bell while you gather your tattered wits about you shall I Angel? God knows what he wants me for, but Tara and the Little Bit said it sounded urgent.”

Spike dialled the number from memory, and waited for an answer.

“Hi Rupert it’s me, The Niblet said you needed to speak to me?”…….. “Yes I’m fine, thanks, I just had a little falling out with the Slayer and made myself scarce for a bit while the bones mend, you know how it goes.”………… “As a matter of fact I’m at Angel’s place in LA, turn up for the books innit?”…………. “No he hasn’t tried to stake me... well, not yet anyway. I got Tara to talk to him, he didn’t believe in my new leaf any more than you did at first last year.”……….. “What’s this urgent matter you have to discuss then? Got me worried you have.”………… “I thought she wasn’t the Key any more, now that Glory Hellbitch is out of the picture?”…….. “She should be able to do it at will?”………….. “And control it too? To any dimension?”……… “Bloody Hell Rupert! But what about the blood to close it again? The Slayer can only die so many times, it really takes it out of you, you know!”…..……. “Protector of the Key? That’d be the Slayer wouldn’t it? The monks sent Dawnie to her to protect after all.”……… “Rupert you are not going to tangle me in one of your damned prophecies!” ………. “Holder of the Key? Well then... that could be either of us too couldn’t it? How can you tell which is which?”……….. “Oh it says ‘He will give his life? Bugger that... I haven’t got a life to give you berk! It was the Slayer who gave her life for her sister, well, for all of us really. You should know that, you were there with us after all.” ……… “Oh, it says her blood but his life? That doesn’t make sense.”………… “Have you told the Slayer about this?”……….. “She’ll freak you know. She’s not very happy, but she’s finally beginning to come to terms with being back, trying to be a mum to the Little Bit and earn a living. You tell her Dawnie’s still in danger, and she might have to jump into another sodding portal, and it might just tip her over the edge. You know that if word gets out that the Niblet’s still the Key, and can open portals at will, every Big Bad Demon with a plan will be trying to get their claws into her.”………. “You want me to tell her? Bollocks to that Giles! Have you gone completely sack of hammers? I wouldn’t last five seconds! The Little Bit would be getting out the dustpan and brush……” ………. “Oh I see, well yes, I do understand it wouldn’t be very good idea to tell her over the phone. You’ll be coming back again though won’t you? This is too important a matter to leave to the Scoobies.” …………. “Bring a couple of boxes of Weetabix and a couple of jars of Bovril with you would you? That little shop around the corner from your old flat closed and turned into a Poodle Parlour, and I can’t find another stockist in Sunny D. Some decent tea would be good too, you only went and got me hooked on the stuff again when you had me chained in your bath, and it’s impossible to find the makings of a decent cuppa around here. Oh and ginger nuts, I ate the whole packet you had that time when you were blind and I was engaged to the Slayer. I got the taste for them, and I could really fancy some more. That reminds me, I never did get my ring back, it was my favourite. I must remember to ask her if she’s still got it tucked away somewhere.”
Spike suddenly registered that Angel was spitting and spluttering and making choking noises beside him and realised what he’d just said. “Sorry Giles, hang on a minute, Angel is having a conniption fit here.”

He put his hand over the receiver, turned to his Grandsire, and calmly told him, “one of Willow’s spells went haywire for a couple of days Peaches, don’t fret, we’d only got as far as picking out the flowers and the wording for the invitations, and oh yes, the Slayer wanted Giles to give her away, and would you believe she chose ‘Wind beneath my wings’ for the first dance? Once the spell was broken she went and started shagging Captain Cardboard. He wasn’t nearly good enough for her. I’d like to thank you for beating him up for me by the way. I couldn’t do it because of the bloody chip in my head, and if I’d started I’d only have ended up killing him, so it’s just as well I couldn’t.” Spike took his hand off the receiver again and went back to his conversation, ignoring the feminine giggles, masculine chuckles and continuing spluttering beside him.

“OK Rupert, let me think a minute, there’s something nagging in the back of my brain, I think I may be having an idea.”……....….. “Stop laughing you pillock, it’s been known to happen occasionally! Now then… While I was up at Cambridge I had this friend who had this book…..” …………… “Yes Rupert, I did go to University. Just because I never bothered to use my brain much after I became a demon, doesn’t mean the man I was before didn’t have one! Shut up a minute, I’ve got to concentrate and try to think like William instead of Spike. I’m out of practice, it’s been rather a long time.”…………. “No I’m not going to tell you what my degrees were in you nosy git, that’s not important now, you’ll just have to keep wondering!” Spike closed his eyes and frantically scrubbed his face with his free hand. “No, it won’t come to me, but I know there’s a book you need to refer to, I just can’t think of it for the moment. I’ll keep trying though. Let’s get back to this… You’re certain it says ‘She will give her blood’ and then ‘He will give his life’? What language are you translating from?”……….. “Etruscan? Well you could knock me down with a feather! I’ve just agreed to teach the Niblet Etruscan when I get back, so she can impress her mate Janice!”………….. “No, I don’t believe in coincidences either Rupert, not where your bloody prophecies are concerned, hang on a minute let me get something to write with and you can read it out for me.”

Spike made frantic gestures for writing materials, and a pair of tiny hands presented him with a big pad, while a huge black fist passed him a pen.

“OK mate, go ahead.” Spike proceeded to write quickly and neatly, his only words being enquiries about spellings and punctuation. He finally stopped writing and turned back to flip through the pages he’d filled. “Right then, I can see both ‘The Protector’ and ‘The Holder’, so you were right about there being the need for two people to work with ‘The Key’. It’s also correct that ‘The Holder’ is female, and ‘The Protector’ is male. So the Slayer is the ‘Holder’?”…..……. “Right, I get that, it makes sense, but how did you manage to make the giant leap to the highly improbable conclusion that I’m supposed to be her Protector?” ………… “Well, you know I would! What does that have to do with anything? I’d only be able to do it once and if she’s supposed to be able to do it repeatedly she’d need a new person each time to close the portal, and she won’t want to open them at all if someone has to die each time. Besides, and it clearly says it’s ‘her blood’ that is needed, I know you like to joke that I’m a neutered vampire Rupert, but I’m still all male you know.”……… “You expect Red to bring me back each time? You kidding? Didn’t you know she’s on the wagon?”………. “Yes, she got into some really powerful dark stuff and there was a rather nasty accident, Dawnie’s arm got broken and the Slayer got a bit... er… upset with the little witch. It brought Red to her senses pretty sharpish, and she’s going cold turkey.”………. “My idea?... Oh yes… Sorry… Hang on let me look at this again… ‘Her blood... His life…’ Well of course! Oh God I’m so thick! You too you twit! It was right in front of our stupid faces all the time! Something you forgot to consider last year Giles, and I bloody never thought of it either! Just because the portal needs the Slayer’s blood to close it, doesn’t mean her blood has to be in her own gorgeous little body does it? It doesn’t say ‘Body and Soul’ to close the sodding portal, it only needs the blood! So… let’s try this scenario on for size. Dawnie cuts her hand to let her blood flow to open the portal, using whatever method you work out she needs to use to direct where it leads to, then it’s all change… Hello! Vampire here! Dawnie bandages up her hand, I drink from the Slayer, and in goes my body full of her blood to close it! Bloody hell Giles, the Slayer needn’t have jumped at all! Neither of them had to! It should have been me all along!” He paused for a moment to reconsider. “But no, that can’t be right either, once more there’s the problem of needing to repeat the process. I’d be gone and our pretty little Key would have lost her Protector, and the next portal wouldn’t have anyone to close it.”………… “Getting close are we? Let me think… we really need to find that damned book... I wish I could remember… I can’t even recall my chum’s name. He was giving me all these arcane books to read and trying to get me to agree to join his family business, but he refused to tell me exactly what it was! Proust?... Potter?... Prince?... I know it began with P…” Spike scratched at his scalp, ruffling up his tousled curls. The dark roots were beginning to become quite obvious. “Do you think it’s significant that The Slayer wasn’t the right person to jump? Did that affect the process somehow? What difference would it have made if your friendly neighbourhood vampire had jumped instead?”…………. “To coin a popular Sunnydale phrase... Well duh! Obvious much? Of course I wouldn’t have gone to Heaven you prat, the question is where would I have gone? I’m already dead of course, and a demon besides, so it would be different for me than for the Slayer. Would I have been dusted?”………….. “To whichever dimension the portal opened in? That actually makes some sort of sense, you know. Do portals have time limits? Would I have had a return ticket and come back again? Do we know anyone who has been through one, and come back to tell the tale?”…………….. “Oh my God! Coincidence my lily white arse! You and your double damned prophecies! I can already feel the strings pulling me this way and that and I don’t bloody like it Giles! Hang on a sec, I’ll ask him.”

Spike turned to the group clustered around him and asked “Angel? When The Slayer ran her sword through you into Acathla and sent you through that whirly portal thing, where did you go? How long were you there? And how the hell did you get back?” Spike offered him the phone “Tell the Watcher yourself Angel, then we can both hear your answer and I won’t have to repeat everything to him”.

To his complete and utter astonishment Angel took the phone with one hand, and casually passed him the wriggly satiated baby with the other. Shocked for a moment into total immobility, Spike gave a tiny start, closed his gaping mouth, and then hoisted the warm sleepy form onto his shoulder and started rubbing its back, allowing himself to emit a soft vampire growl, more of a purr really. Connor stretched, whimpered once, gave a massive burp, and promptly fell asleep. Once more he was forced to realise he had a rapt audience all grinning widely. “What?” he asked, “Had two little sisters once you know. I wasn’t always a creature of the night! Hey Angel, I could do with some of that blood now please… getting a bit light-headed. I wouldn’t want to drop the baby, now would I?”
Angel nodded to Fred, who went off into the depths of the hotel somewhere, and for the next few minutes there were the welcome distant sounds of cupboards and a fridge door opening and closing, and then a microwave.

Angel only took moments to explain to Giles that he didn’t really know how long he had been in the Hell dimension as his wits had been decidedly shredded by the time he had returned, but it felt like at least a century, and that although the First Evil had claimed responsibility for bringing him back, he had no idea whether that was the truth. Spike suddenly thought of something and told Angel “Tell him to ask Anya if she can help, she knows more about Demon dimensions that the rest of us put together having been a vengeance demon for over eleven hundred years.” When Angel had passed on this tip, Giles said he needed to do some more research, but that he’d be in touch again soon, and they both hung up.

“You want the son and heir back now?” Spike asked reluctantly, he was actually feeling rather good cuddling the warm milky smelling bundle.

Angel shook his head, “No you’re OK, I can never get him to burp and go to sleep that quickly, you must have a magic touch, what on earth made you start growling at him? I would never have thought of that!”

“I’ve been playing a lot of kitten poker with a mate of mine recently, best way of keeping the stakes from wandering off the table is to purr at them, I just had a hunch it might calm the Littlest Vampire too. You going to let me in on the secret to this little miracle then?”

By the time Angel had filled him in on the main events surrounding Connor’s conception and birth, Fred was back with a big mug of blood for him. Spike said, “ta ducks,” and passed over the sleeping baby who snuggled into her arms as she took him upstairs. He closed his eyes and sniffed the mug appreciatively. “Mmmmm… fresh pig, with a hint of otter, and what’s that extra ingredient? Smells richer than usual… Got any burba weed?” Getting puzzled look all around, Spike shrugged and buried his nose in the mug, allowing his face to Vamp out as the blood hit his taste buds. Suddenly he shuddered, lurched back off the stool, and spat out his mouthful of gore all over the floor. “What the bloody hell are you trying to pull Angel? I don’t drink humans any more, why would you do this to me?” He yelled angrily. He was met with blank stares all around.
“It’s fresh from the butcher Spike, no human at all!”

“Bugger that! I know my bloods Angel, there isn’t much, a merest hint, but there’s definitely some human blood in your cocktail! Where did you get it from? Have you been drinking this muck for long?” He glared around at the stunned faces, it wasn’t one of them then. “Somebody has been spiking your drinks Peaches! Time to change your supplier I think.” He asked, “has he been acting out of character at all recently? Drinking more blood than usual, being more er… how can I put this?… more flirtatious with the ladies?”
All eyes swivelled to Angel’s shocked expression. “Well you have been drinking more than usual, haven’t you? You’ve been more sort of slurpy about it too.” whispered Gunn.

Wesley immediately took charge. “Get all Angel’s supplies in here Charles, we need to do a bit of quality control”. Each package was opened and presented to Spike to test.

“Every one of them is contaminated Angel, someone is really doing a number on you! I wonder whose blood it is, and why they want you to become comfortable with drinking it? How come you didn’t taste it yourself? Did a few decades of eating nothing but rats and other vermin completely destroy your taste buds? It tastes very young actually. As matter of fact it also tastes familiar. Wait a moment…” Spike closed his eyes and flared his nostrils. He moved around the room giving each of them a good sniff, passing Lorne by, until he came to Angel. “Yes, it would make sense you’d smell of it, after all you’ve been drinking it, but it’s more than that. It could almost be yours... but it isn’t, not quite.” His eyes suddenly shot open. “Angel, get young Connor back down here!”

He was confronted by four horrified expressions. Lorne breathed “Oh my poor Angelhair…” turned, and ran upstairs.

Within moments he reappeared, closely followed by Fred carrying Connor. She passed him to Spike, who flared his nostrils once more and took a deep breath over the baby. He looked at Angel for permission. “I need just a tiny taste to confirm,” he explained, “I won’t hurt him I promise”. Angel nodded wordlessly. Spike bared a tiny pink foot, and lifted it to his mouth as he forced himself to Vamp out. “Oh God” he moaned… He hesitated for the longest moment, then at last, using the gentlest touch of his undamaged top fang, he pricked Connor’s heel, and licked the tiny spot of blood that oozed out. He immediately handed the baby to his father, and turned his back on them all, trying to hide the two tears running down his cheeks. He rubbed his face to encourage it to return to his human appearance and turned back to face them. “Yes, I’m afraid so Angel love… someone has spiked your drink with your own son’s blood. You must have really pissed someone off big-time! Any idea who?”

Angel’s team swung into action. Wesley immediately brought out some papers he had been working on in secret. They had lost The Nyazian scrolls containing the prophecy that had foretold Connor’s birth, so he had been doing some reading in commentaries on the scrolls, and had found a passage in a Third Century Greek text that translated as ‘The Father will kill the Son’, and he had become truly concerned for the child’s life. Now he knew that Angel was being manipulated, it became probable that the prophecy was unreliable, and it needed to be far more closely examined. He and Fred disappeared into the office and got into full research mode.

Gunn went out to a different butcher from the one Angel usually patronised and came back with fresh supplies for the two vampires, so Spike at last got his big mug of pig’s blood, and while Lorne stayed upstairs with Connor, Spike sat quietly on the comfy red sofa with Angel and tried to explain the enormous changes that had taken place in him over the past few years.

“It’s simple really Angel. Slayer magic. It has to be. You know I came to Sunnydale specifically to kill her? My third slayer she was to be. You had your nuns, Darla had her pretty young men in uniform, and Drusilla had her little children. Me? Slayers were my thing. Ever since you told me what they were I was obsessed with them. But this time everything I planned seemed to go just that little bit wrong. It took a while, but after I got this sodding chip in my head which made it too hard to kill humans I was forced to stop and think. I had to sort of re-evaluate my unlife. I began to realise that I wasn’t hanging around the Slayer trying to find a way to kill her at all, I just needed to be around her. I couldn’t drag myself away. I kept making excuses for myself, that I was waiting to leave town until I could get the chip out of my head, or that I didn’t have anywhere else to go after Dru left me. But then after I discovered I could hurt demons I actually teamed up with the Scoobies to fight. Once I even helped them prevent the Hellmouth opening! I did Rupert a few favours, and when I got into trouble I turned to the Slayer and the Scoobies… and they helped me! The Slayer didn’t stake me! Even after I got mixed up in the plans of this bloody great huge Frankenstein creation of a monster to kill hundreds of humans and demons and use their body parts to make an invincible army she still didn’t dust me… I shall never understand why.”

“Then I had this dream. Such a dream as you only dream of... well… you know what I mean… and I realised what Dru had meant when she said that when she looked at me all she could see was the Slayer. The reason she had left me. I wasn’t obsessed with the Slayer because I wanted to kill her at all! I was in love with the adorable little minx! I did love Drusilla, you know that Angel, I really loved her, but then I fell in love… and everything changed. It’s a completely different feeling you know. I still am in love with her, of course. I think I always will be. So I helped out as I could, patrolled with her, gathered information for her, looked after Joyce and the Little Bit when she asked me to, accepted her friends as a part of her and grew to like them… well... except for Harris, he and I have never seen eye to eye, you know how he feels about vampires and demons… and that’s odd now I come to think of it since the wedding I’ll be going home for is his wedding to Anya… lovely girl, a former vengeance demon.”

“I helped the Slayer fight against that Hellgod bitch Glory. I gave her my word that I’d protect Dawn, but then I failed, and the Slayer had to jump to her death, and I felt so bad I nearly dusted myself. Only I had to stay, to be close to where she’d been and to care for Dawn, because of my promise, and because she was all that was left of her. I practically raised her with Willow and Tara for those 147 days the Slayer was dead…and then they did that spell and brought her back. She’s different now Angel, harder, angrier, unhappy and hurting in some way I don’t understand. But I’m still trying to help. I’m trying to be there for her, to give her what she needs, trying to be more like a man. I’ll do whatever it takes. You understand? It took a long time for Rupert to believe I’d really changed, but I think he’s accepted it now, well... you heard. It seems I’ve got myself caught up in a bloody prophecy now! On the side of light for Christ’s sake! Can you believe it? I’m not sure I can. Whatever next?”

Angel asked quietly “Does she love you?”

Spike sighed sadly. “I honestly don’t know Angel, most of the time I’m certain she doesn’t, and then she’ll say something or do something that makes me think she does. I keep hoping… but that’s all there is, just that last little bit of hope that refuses to die. She refuses to believe that I’m truly in love with her you see. Every time I’ve tried to make her believe it’s real, she throws the lack of a soul in my face. You went and convinced her that without a soul we demons can’t love properly, and now every time we have a row about it I get the ‘you’re nothing but an evil soulless thing’ reaction. I’ve decided I’m going to stop telling her, it’s all become a bit pointless, and too painful. I don’t think there’s anything more I can do to convince her. There’s some sort of feeling for me in her, she likes to have me around… most of the time. She knows I’ll always be there to help her when she needs me, she trusts me to care for Dawn, she accepts that I’d die for her, but true love? No, that’s a stretch too far without a soul it seems.”

Spike’s long rambling confession had exhausted him, so he accepted Angel’s offer of a room, and as he collapsed gratefully onto the slightly dusty bedspread in front of him, he wondered how Angel would greet him when he woke that evening. He really had been very quiet as Spike had unburdened himself. Almost too quiet. Spike was just beginning to worry about whether he’d done the right thing by being so open and honest with Angel, when he dropped off to sleep.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

No such thing as coincidences