Lonely No More

Chapter One


Spike was preening himself in front of the mirror. He turned about from side to side, checking his rear end, patting his stomach and extending his white wings.


"What are you doing?"

Spike jumped a near mile and spun to see his best friend standing there,
smirking at him.

"Nothin," Spike bristled and set his wings firmly against his back.


"Looks like somethin'," Angel quipped.

"Well, it's nothin'," he looked at his tall, broad-shouldered friend with dark
hair. Studied him. Maybe he should change his blond hair back to brown.
Maybe that'd give him the extra something he seemed to be lacking.


"Why are you staring at me?" Angel asked, uncomfortably. Then his eyes
narrowed. "This isn't one of those times where you try to scare me into
thinking I have something on my face when I really don't is it?"


"No, you bloody git," Spike grumbled. "What do you think of the hair?"

"Yours?"


"Yeah."

Angel shrugged. "It's blond, it's short, it's. . . hair." He furrowed his brow
and frowned. "What are you going for here Spike?"


"You're an oaf, you know that?"

"I'm not a girl Spike. I'm not going to dissect your appearance. What are
you on about anyway?"


Spike sighed and sat on his bed. "It's just . . . been a while."


"Oh. I get it now." Angel nodded, knowingly. "Going through a dry spell
and you think you've lost the ‘touch'."


"More than lost the touch, mate. I've just plum . . . lost . . . the touch," he
shook his head, groaning and flopping back on the bed. "It's like I never had
it I lost it so much."


Angel chuckled.

Spike shot up and glared at him. "What's so bleeding funny?"


"Just funny to hear Eros' nephew fears he's ‘lost the touch.'"

"Just because the God of Love happens to by my uncle doesn't mean
anything."


"Except that you work for him," Angel said matter of factly. "You set up
the candidates and shoot the arrows for him."


"No, I don't set them up. That's the part I DON'T do," Spike muttered.

"I thought you were being trained?" Angel asked, confused.


"He's been putting it off and putting it off. Something about me needing to
settle down and concentrate. Whatever the hell that means," he ran a hand
through his hair and sighed heavily.


"Could be that you can't sit still for more than five minutes?"

"I'm bleeding sittin here right now!" Spike jumped up. Angel laughed and
Spike narrowed his eyes at him.


"Or it could be that you have no patience," Angel pointed out.

"I'm a failure to my father," Spike murmured. "He sets them up AND gets
to shoot. I just . . . shoot."


"It takes time and patience to be able to set up matches, Spike. You have
to make sure that when you're making a match, it's based on compatibility,
friendship and passion. It's not cut and dry. You've seen human
relationships; they're complex! All that talking, the emotions, the
compromise . . . it's hard work. It's easy for them to fall in love; it's not
always easy for them to STAY in love."


"Right. Which is where the merry band of Cupid shooters come in: To find
their true love. The one they'll settle with for eternity."


"Exactly. Otherwise all those mortals would be stumbling around making
bad matches everywhere and crying their little human hearts out."


"I'm ready! I know I can do it!"

"What about the dry spell you're on? You can't even match yourself up."


"Are you trying to help? I'm drowning here and you're describing the
water!" Spike exclaimed, frustrated.


Angel chuckled. "What happened to . . . what was her name?"

"Medea?"


"Yeah, Medea. She was a looker."

"She's involved with some guy named Jason. I never had a chance.
Besides, she's got this jealous streak in her that's just bordering on
psychotic."


"You were dating one of Hera's nieces weren't you?"

"Yeah, but do I really want to face the wrath of Hera once it blows up in
my face? No."


Angel sighed. "So, is it with you or them that the problem lays?"

Spike looked at his friend. "I think it might be them. I keep thinking the
right one will come around . . . I keep thinking it's me . . . but it's not. You
know what I think I need? A mortal. It worked for my uncle, it worked for
my mother. Why couldn't it work for me?"


Angel's eyes widened. "Are you thinking of asking if you can travel to
Earth?"


Spike shrugged, "Maybe. Zeus did it all the bloody time. Why do you think
Hera's such a bitch?"


"Used to. Key word, past tense. Mortals today aren't as accepting of us
anymore. Well, aside from the pagans . . . but they've also never actually
SEEN us in the flesh."


"I don't know Angel. I'm not saying that I will do it, it's just an idea I'm
entertaining. Not like I'd be allowed to go anyway and make myself
known," Spike explained on a sigh.


"Ever think of asking?"

"Didn't honestly put a lot of thought into it until now."


"Well, your uncle sent me to get you, so maybe you can ask him yourself."

Spike's eyes widened. "Bleeding hell Angel! You've made me keep him
waiting."


Angel grinned. "Just trying to help you out a bit there buddy."

Spike rolled his eyes. "That's what I get for making Iris' nephew my best
friend."


Angel patted his friend on the back. "Can't help it. She's got temperance
down to an art form. We support each other, you and I. We've got big
footsteps to follow."


"Don't I know it," Spike muttered and followed Angel out the door to meet
Uncle Eros, God of Love.

Starting to close his wings, Spike glided to a stop on the steps of Eros'
enormous marble castle –literally a castle in the sky—and took a deep
breath as he looked over at Angel who was settling himself on the steps.


"I'll wait for you here," Angel told his friend.

Spike nodded and flew up the last few steps to the gigantic double doors.
They opened as if they knew he was there, which they probably did. It
never failed to take his breath away when he entered his aunt and uncles
home. It was a vast place and yet homey. He could see Aunt Psyche's touch
and he knew that Uncle Eros didn't disapprove of the place. The colors
ranged from the lightest pink to the deepest red and portraits adorned the
walls—portraits of family, friends, a ton of Aphrodite, which Spike knew
Aphrodite probably put there himself. A grand piano sat in the front room,
front and center, where his uncle loved to entertain. Dark wood floors with
rich mahogany colors bled throughout the room, from the chaise lounge to
the velvet sofa and chairs, made the room a not only comfortable but
sensual place to entertain and be entertained.


He remembered the last party they'd had, the room had been filled and
Bacchus had had the wine flowing to no end. Spike had gotten quite spirited
and had started picking a fight with the ponce Narcissus. He had tried to
reason with Echo that her man was just out for himself, but she hadn't
listened to him. All she could do was follow Narcissus around and repeat
everything he said as if he were chock full of wisdom. That had been the
beginning of Spike's spiral into discontent with the women of Olympus.


Passing by the room and down the long hall to his uncle's study, Spike took
a deep breath and braced himself. Not that he was afraid of his uncle, quite
the contrary. However, he feared his uncle would stop his employment if he
knew just how discontent he'd been of late.


Eros was poring over papers at his long oak desk when Spike entered. His
handsome uncle looked up and smiled his thousand watt smile at him.

"Hello Spike. How are you, my boy?" The sun shone off his golden hair and
Spike frowned inwardly, thinking he'd never had been able to color his hair
that same shade.


"Good uncle. Great. Perfect. You?"

Eros' face crossed with something Spike couldn't quite define—
disappointment? Uncertainty? Both? – before he gestured for Spike to
have a seat.


Settling down on the overstuffed, pink satin chair with the clawed feet,
Spike sat ramrod straight, waiting to hear what his uncle had to say.


"Spike, for some time now you've been after me to train you in
matchmaking," Eros began, leaning against the desk with his hip, his blue
eyes intent on Spike. Spike hated when his uncle stared at him in such a
manner. It was like he was looking into his soul, into his mind, and it
unnerved him.


Spike nodded, averting his gaze from Uncle Eros and shifting to the
gigantic crystal ball in the middle of the room.


"I've decided to honor your request."

Spike jumped up, his wings fluttering in excitement, "Really? When?"


"Soon. Today if you want," Eros grinned, seeming pleased by Spike's
enthusiasm. "I've been talking it over with your parents and your Aunt and
she agrees with me that this is the best thing for you."


Spike studied his uncle. "What is?" He had the distinct feeling that his
uncle was talking about more than just simple field work here.


"Do you remember me telling you about a mortal woman by the name of
Elizabeth Summers in Sunnydale, California?"


Spike nodded slowly, wondering where in Hades this was going.

"As you know at the last staff meeting, she's been a great asset to our
business with her own matchmaking. Her success is astounding. So many
happy marriages with soul mates having found each other without our aid.
It's unprecented that such a mortal could have such a gift." Eros paused
and then frowned, "However, as of late, her work hasn't been top notch.
She's had a few set backs. It started with a divorce or two and now it seems
she's just going through the motions and seems to have lost her touch."


Spike tried not to react to the very same words he'd uttered to Angel not
too long ago.


"That's where you come in my boy. I want you to help her. Help her find
her spark again, find her touch and bring her back into the game of making
those correct matches again. I'm hoping with her influence on the love
front, more will arise just like her so that we'll have chains of ‘Soul Matched'
everywhere, helping us out."


"With all due respect Uncle Eros, but how can I, who has never been able
to match before, help someone who's lost her touch with it? What could I
possibly learn from her?" Spike wasn't feeling too sure about this.


His uncle broke out into a wide smile, his white teeth sparkling. "I think
you'll find you know more than you think Spike. What do you say? Will you
do it? It's the perfect opportunity for you, it really is. I trust you, I put my
faith in you that you can help Miss Summers."


"I'm still unsure as to how I can –"

"Will you do it?" Eros asked, cutting him off.


Spike stopped and sighed, raking a hand through his hair. If there was one
thing he didn't want to do, it was disappoint his uncle. He looked up to the
man, always had. He only wanted to follow in his footsteps and hopefully
have the same kind of patience he did. Not to mention having the greatest
love possible. He looked to Uncle Eros and Aunt Psyche as inspiration and
hope. If they could achieve it, then he was sure he could too. Plus, he had an
advantage that his aunt and uncle didn't have—the meddling ways of
Aphrodite. The Goddess had tamed quite a bit since becoming hitched to
Mars. Which was ironic in a way really. What he wasn't understanding was
why his uncle was being so vague and just ‘trusting his abilities'. He didn't
trust his abilities. Perhaps that was the whole point though.


Taking a deep breath Spike nodded. "When do I leave?"

Eros hugged him quickly. "Good choice. You leave tonight."


"So. Miss Summers here I come," and Spike smiled weakly.