Where the streets have no name
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
2,182
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
2,182
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name. Chapter 1
Author: Purpledodah
Fandom: Ats human AU.
Pairing: S/A W/X
Rating will be nc17
Disclaimer: Not mine, thy got of at my bus stop.
Warnings: m/m slash. Angst, some violence and drug abuse.
Summary: Angel is a homeless street kid, Spike is a New York cop.
This was written for a challenge set by katsa db lover over on strip_off_angel
Beta by rockstarpeach.
Out of the 40,000 cops in New York, Inspector William ‘Spike’ Barton was the only one down St Peter’s homeless shelter today. Nothing unusual in that, he was often found here helping out Charles Gunn, who ran it. Except today was New years Day, surely he had somewhere better to be, apparently not. He was English, came over on an exchange program 15 years ago, dragging his wife Dru with him. They had never gone back ‘home’. And now, well now he couldn’t.
Dru had always been, well, different. Then the visions came. Treatment after treatment, nothing worked. She had filed for divorce, not wanting to cloud her beloved William’s career with her madness. A bit of him had died the day she had begged him to sign the papers. He had still loved her, and looked after her, visiting her in whatever nut house she ended up in, or cared for her at home, their home.
Then two years ago, she had run away. He had found her on the streets, living she said quite happily. She refused to go home, or except money from him. Preferring handouts from the shelters and strangers. This was the shelter she came to most often, so Spike became it’s best volunteer.
Home for Spike was an apartment, the only one over a diner. It was large, but cheap. He spent little of his salary on himself. Saving in the hopes his dark princess would come home. He ate, when he remembered, in the diner. His partner Wes joked he was worse than him. The two Brits often sent on stakeouts just because they could go ages with no food. The waitress, Buffy, always flirted, and always got politely turned down. It had become a game, to see how she could flirt, and him refuse. Well they had been playing it since she was fifteen, he’d been 32 then. It was a shock when the shy little girl he had known for five years turned into a hormonal teenager with the hots for any guy that moved. He had patiently let her practice her chat up lines on him, hiding his smirk, and giving her pointers now and then.
Buffy had a genuine soft spot for the older guy, and he’d been so helpful when her Mom, Joyce died last year, leaving the diner to her and her younger sister Dawn. He had calmly helped sort out the practical stuff for her, and his partner Wes had helped too. Everyone had rallied around her. Giles from the book store next door had been devastated too, he’d been dating Joyce. His son Xander, and also Buffy’s friend had had his work cut out, trying to keep everyone together, keep an eye on his Dad’s book store and run his own carpentry business. Giles took her death hard, it was the first time he had dated since his wife Jenny died when Xander was still in high school.
Spike had found out the hard way. This is what people here did, they stuck together and rallied around in a crisis. He’d had a few of them with Dru, and if not for the kindness of Joyce and Giles he would probably have lost his job. Joyce had kept an eye on Dru for him when he worked. Helped him keep it a secret from all but his partner Wes.
Well seeing as Wes lived two buildings down, and had done since they both got off the plane, had even been best man at Spike’s wedding to Dru, though they where not partners back then, hiding Dru would have been impossible. He supposed they were meant to move on to better apartments in a nicer area once they had decided to accept the offer to stay. Both being lazy about things like that neither had bothered. Besides, they liked it here. The people were nice. They had the diner, no need to cook. If they needed store bought stuff, milk and tea mostly, they had the “Heavenly Organic Market” run by the shy Tara who was happy to order in ‘English’ things for both of them. They had her hooked on ‘Jaffa Cakes’ and tea.
And it seemed that a few months later, when Wes and Xander began to get close, despite the age difference, Wes was 40 and Xan 26 the only raised brow had been Spike’s. “Oi, thought you was straight” he’d said to Wes. Not disproving, but shocked. All the years he had known Wes, he’d only ever seen him with women. Wes shrugged. “I went to public school, it opens your eyes to both sexes.” Spike giggled. He had known on the quiet Wes had had a few lovers, Wes hardly ever spoke of them, Spike never asked.
“I got through Oxford without ever finding that out” Spike mused.
“So you have never sampled the delights that a male lover can give?” Wes asked him, he’d been sure Spike swung both ways, he was just so sexual. He oozed sex appeal, men and women alike melted before him. It appeared Spike had not noticed.
“Nah Wes. My Dru is my one and only” He wished he could say the same for her, she often took herself a lover, only to come back to Spike. He always forgave her, blaming it on her illness.
Wes looked at his friend, really looked. Christ he’d known Spike was loyal, but to stay celibate for the last two years? “And the last two years? You’ve never?” Wes didn’t know how to word it.
Spike shook his head. “No passion with out my Dru”. And there wasn’t. Unless he dreamt of her he never got an erection. The rare occasion he woke hard, he took care of it in the shower, ashamed of himself for his weakness.
Spike had majored in English Literature, 19th Century poetry his speciality. He often wondered how he’d ended up a copper, that had not been his plan. Perhaps it was all the close calls being just on the wrong side of the law in the early years with Dru, back when he wore eyeliner and black nail varnish, caring about nothing but his Princess and his poems. It became a case of be beat by them or join them, so he had. It had been the making of him, and the breaking of Dru. Long hours spent apart did not do her good, but they needed the money, and when the chance to go to the States had come up, she had begged him to take it. Said it was where his true happiness lay.
So New years Day found him helping in the shelter, hoping as she had not turned up Boxing Day or any day since, she would today. He gave thanks for his oddball family when the local priest popped in to say grace. He thanked the Lord for all he had gained. He prayed for the first time ever that day. He prayed Dru found peace.
Dru had been a no show, he could only just hide his disappointment as he served the last few stragglers a hot meal. He bantered with them as usual, he was well known by the regulars, and despite being a cop, he was trusted and liked. He had bent down to make a fuss of a dog, no more than a pup on a bit of string. The bloke had found it in a dumpster, left to die in a plastic bag. He couldn’t look after it, and was begging Spike to take it in till the pound opened again. Spike knew the pound was full this time of year. Spike was a softie for big brown eyes. The poor mutt wagged it’s tail happily at him, almost peeing itself with excitement when Fred set down a plate of scraps for it.
As they watched the pup eat, Spike had promised to take it in till he found it a good home, the outside door burst open and a bloke high on something came in, shouting in a thick Irish accent for help. “Please man, please, there’s a lady, I left my mate with her, she’s dying.” He had ran right up to Spike.
Spike grabbed the mans arms in an effort to calm him down.
“What’s your name?”
“Doyle, but please hurry, she’s askin’ for the English man with blue eyes and blonde hair, her Sweet William, that’s you init?” Doyle was buzzing, high as a kite, and as often was the case when high he just knew things.
Spike felt his stomach lurch. “Show me” he stammered out.
“She’s on the ground in the snow, just round the corner” Spike ran, Fred on his heals as Gunn dialled 911.
Spike skidded to a halt, his Dru was cradled in the arms of a stranger, a young man, who shivered just as bad as she did. He dropped to his knees in front of them, not caring for the snow that lay thick on the ground and fell heavily from the sky.
“Dru baby? I’m here luv, Will’s here now pet” he stroked her face with one hand as he swept his eyes over her and checked her pulse. It was rapid and so very weak. He took his over shirt off and lay it over her, she was just wearing a thin slip, no shoes or anything, she was soaking wet. She must have given her clothes away to the ‘less fortunate’ again. He gently took her in his arms as Fred, who was a medic, checked her over. The youth who had been holding her stayed, he had too she wouldn’t let go of his hand.
Gunn had arrived with blankets, and draped one around Spike and Dru and one around the poor kid. The kid looked scared to death.
Dru smiled serenely up at Spike. She watched a tear fall down Spike’s face, but was too weak to wipe it away.
“My Sweet William, my Spike don’t cry for me” Dru’s voice was a whisper, and Spike strained to hear her. “I found your Angel for you” she looked from Spike to the kid and back again. “The angels are singing and it is time for me to go. It’s cold here in the snow and their arms are warm and their smiles sweet, until the next time we meet, let this Angel hold you as you weep”. She smiled at Spike again ,and turned her smile on the youth. As Spike bent and kissed her lips she let out her last breath, dying with a sigh in her Sweet Williams arms.
Spike sobbed “NOOOOOO”
Author: Purpledodah
Fandom: Ats human AU.
Pairing: S/A W/X
Rating will be nc17
Disclaimer: Not mine, thy got of at my bus stop.
Warnings: m/m slash. Angst, some violence and drug abuse.
Summary: Angel is a homeless street kid, Spike is a New York cop.
This was written for a challenge set by katsa db lover over on strip_off_angel
Beta by rockstarpeach.
Out of the 40,000 cops in New York, Inspector William ‘Spike’ Barton was the only one down St Peter’s homeless shelter today. Nothing unusual in that, he was often found here helping out Charles Gunn, who ran it. Except today was New years Day, surely he had somewhere better to be, apparently not. He was English, came over on an exchange program 15 years ago, dragging his wife Dru with him. They had never gone back ‘home’. And now, well now he couldn’t.
Dru had always been, well, different. Then the visions came. Treatment after treatment, nothing worked. She had filed for divorce, not wanting to cloud her beloved William’s career with her madness. A bit of him had died the day she had begged him to sign the papers. He had still loved her, and looked after her, visiting her in whatever nut house she ended up in, or cared for her at home, their home.
Then two years ago, she had run away. He had found her on the streets, living she said quite happily. She refused to go home, or except money from him. Preferring handouts from the shelters and strangers. This was the shelter she came to most often, so Spike became it’s best volunteer.
Home for Spike was an apartment, the only one over a diner. It was large, but cheap. He spent little of his salary on himself. Saving in the hopes his dark princess would come home. He ate, when he remembered, in the diner. His partner Wes joked he was worse than him. The two Brits often sent on stakeouts just because they could go ages with no food. The waitress, Buffy, always flirted, and always got politely turned down. It had become a game, to see how she could flirt, and him refuse. Well they had been playing it since she was fifteen, he’d been 32 then. It was a shock when the shy little girl he had known for five years turned into a hormonal teenager with the hots for any guy that moved. He had patiently let her practice her chat up lines on him, hiding his smirk, and giving her pointers now and then.
Buffy had a genuine soft spot for the older guy, and he’d been so helpful when her Mom, Joyce died last year, leaving the diner to her and her younger sister Dawn. He had calmly helped sort out the practical stuff for her, and his partner Wes had helped too. Everyone had rallied around her. Giles from the book store next door had been devastated too, he’d been dating Joyce. His son Xander, and also Buffy’s friend had had his work cut out, trying to keep everyone together, keep an eye on his Dad’s book store and run his own carpentry business. Giles took her death hard, it was the first time he had dated since his wife Jenny died when Xander was still in high school.
Spike had found out the hard way. This is what people here did, they stuck together and rallied around in a crisis. He’d had a few of them with Dru, and if not for the kindness of Joyce and Giles he would probably have lost his job. Joyce had kept an eye on Dru for him when he worked. Helped him keep it a secret from all but his partner Wes.
Well seeing as Wes lived two buildings down, and had done since they both got off the plane, had even been best man at Spike’s wedding to Dru, though they where not partners back then, hiding Dru would have been impossible. He supposed they were meant to move on to better apartments in a nicer area once they had decided to accept the offer to stay. Both being lazy about things like that neither had bothered. Besides, they liked it here. The people were nice. They had the diner, no need to cook. If they needed store bought stuff, milk and tea mostly, they had the “Heavenly Organic Market” run by the shy Tara who was happy to order in ‘English’ things for both of them. They had her hooked on ‘Jaffa Cakes’ and tea.
And it seemed that a few months later, when Wes and Xander began to get close, despite the age difference, Wes was 40 and Xan 26 the only raised brow had been Spike’s. “Oi, thought you was straight” he’d said to Wes. Not disproving, but shocked. All the years he had known Wes, he’d only ever seen him with women. Wes shrugged. “I went to public school, it opens your eyes to both sexes.” Spike giggled. He had known on the quiet Wes had had a few lovers, Wes hardly ever spoke of them, Spike never asked.
“I got through Oxford without ever finding that out” Spike mused.
“So you have never sampled the delights that a male lover can give?” Wes asked him, he’d been sure Spike swung both ways, he was just so sexual. He oozed sex appeal, men and women alike melted before him. It appeared Spike had not noticed.
“Nah Wes. My Dru is my one and only” He wished he could say the same for her, she often took herself a lover, only to come back to Spike. He always forgave her, blaming it on her illness.
Wes looked at his friend, really looked. Christ he’d known Spike was loyal, but to stay celibate for the last two years? “And the last two years? You’ve never?” Wes didn’t know how to word it.
Spike shook his head. “No passion with out my Dru”. And there wasn’t. Unless he dreamt of her he never got an erection. The rare occasion he woke hard, he took care of it in the shower, ashamed of himself for his weakness.
Spike had majored in English Literature, 19th Century poetry his speciality. He often wondered how he’d ended up a copper, that had not been his plan. Perhaps it was all the close calls being just on the wrong side of the law in the early years with Dru, back when he wore eyeliner and black nail varnish, caring about nothing but his Princess and his poems. It became a case of be beat by them or join them, so he had. It had been the making of him, and the breaking of Dru. Long hours spent apart did not do her good, but they needed the money, and when the chance to go to the States had come up, she had begged him to take it. Said it was where his true happiness lay.
So New years Day found him helping in the shelter, hoping as she had not turned up Boxing Day or any day since, she would today. He gave thanks for his oddball family when the local priest popped in to say grace. He thanked the Lord for all he had gained. He prayed for the first time ever that day. He prayed Dru found peace.
Dru had been a no show, he could only just hide his disappointment as he served the last few stragglers a hot meal. He bantered with them as usual, he was well known by the regulars, and despite being a cop, he was trusted and liked. He had bent down to make a fuss of a dog, no more than a pup on a bit of string. The bloke had found it in a dumpster, left to die in a plastic bag. He couldn’t look after it, and was begging Spike to take it in till the pound opened again. Spike knew the pound was full this time of year. Spike was a softie for big brown eyes. The poor mutt wagged it’s tail happily at him, almost peeing itself with excitement when Fred set down a plate of scraps for it.
As they watched the pup eat, Spike had promised to take it in till he found it a good home, the outside door burst open and a bloke high on something came in, shouting in a thick Irish accent for help. “Please man, please, there’s a lady, I left my mate with her, she’s dying.” He had ran right up to Spike.
Spike grabbed the mans arms in an effort to calm him down.
“What’s your name?”
“Doyle, but please hurry, she’s askin’ for the English man with blue eyes and blonde hair, her Sweet William, that’s you init?” Doyle was buzzing, high as a kite, and as often was the case when high he just knew things.
Spike felt his stomach lurch. “Show me” he stammered out.
“She’s on the ground in the snow, just round the corner” Spike ran, Fred on his heals as Gunn dialled 911.
Spike skidded to a halt, his Dru was cradled in the arms of a stranger, a young man, who shivered just as bad as she did. He dropped to his knees in front of them, not caring for the snow that lay thick on the ground and fell heavily from the sky.
“Dru baby? I’m here luv, Will’s here now pet” he stroked her face with one hand as he swept his eyes over her and checked her pulse. It was rapid and so very weak. He took his over shirt off and lay it over her, she was just wearing a thin slip, no shoes or anything, she was soaking wet. She must have given her clothes away to the ‘less fortunate’ again. He gently took her in his arms as Fred, who was a medic, checked her over. The youth who had been holding her stayed, he had too she wouldn’t let go of his hand.
Gunn had arrived with blankets, and draped one around Spike and Dru and one around the poor kid. The kid looked scared to death.
Dru smiled serenely up at Spike. She watched a tear fall down Spike’s face, but was too weak to wipe it away.
“My Sweet William, my Spike don’t cry for me” Dru’s voice was a whisper, and Spike strained to hear her. “I found your Angel for you” she looked from Spike to the kid and back again. “The angels are singing and it is time for me to go. It’s cold here in the snow and their arms are warm and their smiles sweet, until the next time we meet, let this Angel hold you as you weep”. She smiled at Spike again ,and turned her smile on the youth. As Spike bent and kissed her lips she let out her last breath, dying with a sigh in her Sweet Williams arms.
Spike sobbed “NOOOOOO”