Deja Vu - the updates
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AtS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
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52
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Category:
AtS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
52
Views:
4,099
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
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.
Chapter 71
Deja Vu
Pairing: Angel/Spike
Rating: NC17
Author: Jane Alexander
Disclaimer: No infringement of copyright is intended. The characters belong to Joss. I’m just borrowing them. I’ll try and return them undamaged, honest!
Document version: 11 December 2004
Feedback: janealexanderxxx@hotmail.com
Archived at: http://www.foreverfandom.net/viewstory.php?sid=4394
This story is AU and is a sequel to The Guy in Question.
Warning: includes character death.
Chapter 71
Angel’s apartment - two days later
*******************
Nothing more had been said about either Wesley’s competence to perform magic or Angel’s intention to visit Africa but you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Spike was longing for an excuse to get out of the apartment. He was even considering asking Doyle to fake a vision just to give him the excuse when Wesley saved the day.
“Are you sure you’re strong enough?” Angel was asking Wesley as they emerged from the inner office into the reception area together. Spike looked up from Cordelia’s computer where he’d been doing a spot of research of his own. Wouldn’t hurt to find out all he could about restoring souls… just in case.
“I assure you, I’m fine,” Wesley replied. “Need I remind you that I’ve faced a Thesulac before?”
“Thesulac?” Cordelia said, stepping through the front door as Doyle held it open, her arms full of what Spike assumed to be the makings of lunch. “What’s that, a type of varnish?”
Doyle followed, closing the door behind them both.
“Oh, Angel, you’re finally going to get a decorator in,” she squealed, “and not before time…”
She set the bag she’d been clutching to her chest down on the desk.
“It’s a demon,” Wesley said. “We’re planning to raise it…”
“Raise a demon?” she interrupted. “Look, Wesley, I know you’re new to all this…” She gestured to their surroundings. “But that’s not how we do things around here.”
Reaching into the bag she began to remove the contents, arranging them on the desk.
“Why go looking for trouble when you don’t have to?” she continued. “I say let sleeping demons lie.”
Spike glanced up to see what she’d brought: a selection of baguettes, what looked like salad in a box, two cans of lager, a can of Diet Coke, a mango smoothie… A mango smoothie? Oh, right, must be for Wesley. And a box of donuts. Good girl! She’d remembered.
“We have to raise it, force it to become corporeal, in order to kill it,” Angel explained.
Spike helped himself to a donut.
“What kind of demon is it?” Doyle asked.
“A paranoia demon,” Wesley replied. “It whispers to its victims, sowing seeds of doubt and uncertainty, feeding off their innate insecurities…”
“Great,” Cordelia interjected. “Just what we need right now.”
She pulled out a carton of blood and handed it to Spike.
“No thanks, Luv. Already eaten,” Spike said, continuing to stare at the computer screen in front of him as he wiped sugar from his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Then go and put it in the fridge,” Cordelia snapped.
“Gimme a minute,” Spike said. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“Fine, I’ll go myself,” she said, grabbing the box of salad and the can of Coke and marching purposefully toward the stairs.
“Wait up, Luv!” Spike called after her. “Cordy… you don’t have to…”
He turned to Doyle who shrugged sympathetically.
“Lovers’ tiff?” Spike enquired.
“Nothing I’ve done,” Doyle said. “At least, not that I know of…”
“Then what?”
“Search me. She’s been like this all morning and it’s not even that time of the month,” he said, picking up one of the baguettes and unwrapping it. “When were you planning on raising this demon? Time to eat this before we saddle up?”
“There’s no rush,” Angel said. “We don’t take possession until next week.”
“I beg to differ, Angel,” Wesley said.
“Possession?” Doyle said. “You’ve lost me… I thought the hotel already was possessed.”
“That poor woman is waiting to make her peace with you,” Wesley continued.
Surely Angel hadn’t forgotten about her being stuck up in room 214 all these years with nothing and no one for company except a bleedin’ demon?
“Huh?” Doyle mumbled around a mouthful of bread. “Anyone care to enlighten the hired help?”
Wesley stepped forward and helped himself to a ham salad baguette.
“Hyperion hotel… Thesulac demon… exorcism…” Spike said, figuring all Doyle wanted was the edited highlights, “and some woman Angel knew back in the fifties.”
“You’ve bought the hotel!” Doyle exclaimed.
“Made a downpayment on a lease is more like,” Spike replied.
“The fifties?” Doyle said as an after thought.
“Even a possessed hotel on Wilshire Boulevard costs more than we can afford to buy outright, lottery winnings notwithstanding,” Spike continued.
“The first three months are rent free on account of the ‘haunting’,” Angel said, with evident pride. He’d been the one to negotiate the deal.
“Angel was resident in the hotel at the time. The woman in question is another resident…” Wesley said in answer to Doyle’s earlier question.
“Wow! You’ve bought the hotel. Wait ’til I tell Cordy. Maybe it’ll lighten her spirits,” Doyle said, grabbing a can of lager before heading downstairs after her.
“We’ll go tonight,” Angel said, “but first we need to find an orb of…”
“Ramjarin,” Wesley finished for him, “and I’ve already located one. I’ll pick it up this afternoon.”
Spike wondered what had happened to the orb and other supplies Angel had brought back to the hotel that fateful day in 1952. Had anyone else ever tried to exorcise the demon? The way his Angel had told it, after he slipped the noose from around his neck, he’d walked straight out of the front door of the hotel without looking back, never to return.
Wesley sipped his drink.
“Let me come with you, Pet,” Spike said. “Just to be on the safe side.”
He seemed to recall his Angel telling him the guy who’d sold him the orb came to a sticky end although he couldn’t remember all the details.
“Why don’t you go and talk to Cordy, Luv?” Spike suggested. “Find out what’s bothering her. Wes and I’ll take the car. You don’t mind, do you?”
Spike grabbed Wesley by the arm and pulled him toward the door before Angel had a chance to protest.
“Be careful,” he heard Angel call behind them as he shut the door.
******************
Wesley already had the elevator doors open. Spike followed him inside.
“So, how d’ya defeat this demon first time round then, Wes?” he asked.
“With some difficulty,” he said, “not to mention considerable embarrassment.”
“Embarrassment?”
“It seems I was rather paranoid in those days.”
Spike sniggered.
“Even more so than of late,” Wesley added with a smile.
The doors opened on the parking garage and they both stepped out.
“Never mind, Pet. I won’t let anything happen to you. We’ve faced a lot worse before and survived.”
******************
Pairing: Angel/Spike
Rating: NC17
Author: Jane Alexander
Disclaimer: No infringement of copyright is intended. The characters belong to Joss. I’m just borrowing them. I’ll try and return them undamaged, honest!
Document version: 11 December 2004
Feedback: janealexanderxxx@hotmail.com
Archived at: http://www.foreverfandom.net/viewstory.php?sid=4394
This story is AU and is a sequel to The Guy in Question.
Warning: includes character death.
Chapter 71
Angel’s apartment - two days later
*******************
Nothing more had been said about either Wesley’s competence to perform magic or Angel’s intention to visit Africa but you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Spike was longing for an excuse to get out of the apartment. He was even considering asking Doyle to fake a vision just to give him the excuse when Wesley saved the day.
“Are you sure you’re strong enough?” Angel was asking Wesley as they emerged from the inner office into the reception area together. Spike looked up from Cordelia’s computer where he’d been doing a spot of research of his own. Wouldn’t hurt to find out all he could about restoring souls… just in case.
“I assure you, I’m fine,” Wesley replied. “Need I remind you that I’ve faced a Thesulac before?”
“Thesulac?” Cordelia said, stepping through the front door as Doyle held it open, her arms full of what Spike assumed to be the makings of lunch. “What’s that, a type of varnish?”
Doyle followed, closing the door behind them both.
“Oh, Angel, you’re finally going to get a decorator in,” she squealed, “and not before time…”
She set the bag she’d been clutching to her chest down on the desk.
“It’s a demon,” Wesley said. “We’re planning to raise it…”
“Raise a demon?” she interrupted. “Look, Wesley, I know you’re new to all this…” She gestured to their surroundings. “But that’s not how we do things around here.”
Reaching into the bag she began to remove the contents, arranging them on the desk.
“Why go looking for trouble when you don’t have to?” she continued. “I say let sleeping demons lie.”
Spike glanced up to see what she’d brought: a selection of baguettes, what looked like salad in a box, two cans of lager, a can of Diet Coke, a mango smoothie… A mango smoothie? Oh, right, must be for Wesley. And a box of donuts. Good girl! She’d remembered.
“We have to raise it, force it to become corporeal, in order to kill it,” Angel explained.
Spike helped himself to a donut.
“What kind of demon is it?” Doyle asked.
“A paranoia demon,” Wesley replied. “It whispers to its victims, sowing seeds of doubt and uncertainty, feeding off their innate insecurities…”
“Great,” Cordelia interjected. “Just what we need right now.”
She pulled out a carton of blood and handed it to Spike.
“No thanks, Luv. Already eaten,” Spike said, continuing to stare at the computer screen in front of him as he wiped sugar from his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Then go and put it in the fridge,” Cordelia snapped.
“Gimme a minute,” Spike said. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“Fine, I’ll go myself,” she said, grabbing the box of salad and the can of Coke and marching purposefully toward the stairs.
“Wait up, Luv!” Spike called after her. “Cordy… you don’t have to…”
He turned to Doyle who shrugged sympathetically.
“Lovers’ tiff?” Spike enquired.
“Nothing I’ve done,” Doyle said. “At least, not that I know of…”
“Then what?”
“Search me. She’s been like this all morning and it’s not even that time of the month,” he said, picking up one of the baguettes and unwrapping it. “When were you planning on raising this demon? Time to eat this before we saddle up?”
“There’s no rush,” Angel said. “We don’t take possession until next week.”
“I beg to differ, Angel,” Wesley said.
“Possession?” Doyle said. “You’ve lost me… I thought the hotel already was possessed.”
“That poor woman is waiting to make her peace with you,” Wesley continued.
Surely Angel hadn’t forgotten about her being stuck up in room 214 all these years with nothing and no one for company except a bleedin’ demon?
“Huh?” Doyle mumbled around a mouthful of bread. “Anyone care to enlighten the hired help?”
Wesley stepped forward and helped himself to a ham salad baguette.
“Hyperion hotel… Thesulac demon… exorcism…” Spike said, figuring all Doyle wanted was the edited highlights, “and some woman Angel knew back in the fifties.”
“You’ve bought the hotel!” Doyle exclaimed.
“Made a downpayment on a lease is more like,” Spike replied.
“The fifties?” Doyle said as an after thought.
“Even a possessed hotel on Wilshire Boulevard costs more than we can afford to buy outright, lottery winnings notwithstanding,” Spike continued.
“The first three months are rent free on account of the ‘haunting’,” Angel said, with evident pride. He’d been the one to negotiate the deal.
“Angel was resident in the hotel at the time. The woman in question is another resident…” Wesley said in answer to Doyle’s earlier question.
“Wow! You’ve bought the hotel. Wait ’til I tell Cordy. Maybe it’ll lighten her spirits,” Doyle said, grabbing a can of lager before heading downstairs after her.
“We’ll go tonight,” Angel said, “but first we need to find an orb of…”
“Ramjarin,” Wesley finished for him, “and I’ve already located one. I’ll pick it up this afternoon.”
Spike wondered what had happened to the orb and other supplies Angel had brought back to the hotel that fateful day in 1952. Had anyone else ever tried to exorcise the demon? The way his Angel had told it, after he slipped the noose from around his neck, he’d walked straight out of the front door of the hotel without looking back, never to return.
Wesley sipped his drink.
“Let me come with you, Pet,” Spike said. “Just to be on the safe side.”
He seemed to recall his Angel telling him the guy who’d sold him the orb came to a sticky end although he couldn’t remember all the details.
“Why don’t you go and talk to Cordy, Luv?” Spike suggested. “Find out what’s bothering her. Wes and I’ll take the car. You don’t mind, do you?”
Spike grabbed Wesley by the arm and pulled him toward the door before Angel had a chance to protest.
“Be careful,” he heard Angel call behind them as he shut the door.
******************
Wesley already had the elevator doors open. Spike followed him inside.
“So, how d’ya defeat this demon first time round then, Wes?” he asked.
“With some difficulty,” he said, “not to mention considerable embarrassment.”
“Embarrassment?”
“It seems I was rather paranoid in those days.”
Spike sniggered.
“Even more so than of late,” Wesley added with a smile.
The doors opened on the parking garage and they both stepped out.
“Never mind, Pet. I won’t let anything happen to you. We’ve faced a lot worse before and survived.”
******************