Roomies

Disclaimer: The characters of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: the Series Universes (Angel, Cordelia, Spike, Xander, Doyle, etc…) are the creation of Joss Whedon and are, therefore, the property of him, Mutant Enemy (Grr, Arg), and 20th Century Fox (and all other affiliated parties). No money is gained from this work as it is created purely for the enjoyment of others. Please do not sue.

AN: Constructive criticism and friendly fedback are always appreciated. Flames will be used to warm my toes.


~Part 12: We’re Off to Save the Sunnydale-er~


Spike crawled into consciousness slowly; the sound of voices in the living room bringing him into full awareness. As he sat up and ran a hand through his hair, he couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across his features. His mind fought to lose itself in the memories of all the sensations from earlier but he shook his head to clear it, stood and walked into the on suite shower. He was covered in dry blood and semen – something that he had a feeling the others wouldn’t appreciate seeing all that much.

He jumped out of the shower five minutes later already feeling slightly bereft without the cleansing heat soaking into his skin and dressed quickly. He couldn’t believe how well everything had went even though what *had* happened was a little fuzzy around the edges. He felt like he had seen the sun rise.

He could remember almost every single touch and word said right until his brain had shut down around the time Angel had bit his nipple. What had happened between them reminded his of their relationship from over a century ago. Angel’s touch had been the perfect mix of gentle and rough. He had brought Spike pleasure though he made sure the blonde had earned it before allowing him to cum so wonderfully.

Spike’s muscles tensed in response to the tension seeping through the bedroom door. He quickly raided Angel’s closet as he thought. He didn’t notice any of the usual aches or pains in his nether areas other then those that indicted a bloody good orgasm. That could only mean that something had called a complete halt to things: the ‘breed had had a vision and Angel had only hung around long enough to bring Spike off.

Stepping out of the bedroom wearing a soft cream-white sweater that he had found in the depths of Angel’s drawers, a pair of plain black jeans that Angel had convinced Cordelia to buy for him and his old docs with his hair hanging in his face and a smile tugging at his lips, Spike felt ready for anything. The tension broke slightly at his appearance and Spike struck a pose. After allowing the desire from his Sire and Cordelia to penetrate to his very bones, Spike felt more at ease.

Doyle quickly drew them back to the crisis at hand by clearing his throat then wincing when the sound caused headache to pound more firmly against the back of his eyes.

Spike sighed and ran a hand through wavy locks. Preparing himself for a hard hit, he muttered, “Don’t bloody cushion the blow, just tell me what you saw.” He met and held his Sire’s eyes for a moment before facing Doyle straight on.

Doyle shifted uneasily from foot to foot, his eyes darting around the room. “It’s bloody obvious that I had a vision just give me a minute to…” he stopped when he finally met Spike’s eyes. His feet stopped shifting and he began to rock slowly back and forth. “Saw Sunnydale, a brat wi’h dark hair – kinda cute – chatten wi’h a older guy, a flash an’ th’guy’s carrying a weapon an’s dressed in fatigues talken ta a bird wi’h a doc’s jacket on.”

Spike broke eye contact and swore softly. Without thinking, Spike’s right thumb found its way to his mouth and he began to chew on the edge of it where the skin and nail met. When he looked at his Sire he saw poorly disguised confusion and a silent question. Before the words were asked he explained, “Picked it up from Dru. I can’t stand the mojo but I thought it would come in handy some time. Guess I was right – would’ve taken the ‘breed all week for him ta spit it out. Sorry ‘bout that, by the way.”

The Irishman just shrugged and grinned slightly. He ran a hand over his lined face and let out an almost hysterical bark of laughter. “Yer right. Can’t blame yah fer getten it outta me.”

The blonde nodded. “So…”

“Sorry, don’t have needle or thread handy,” Angel said, his face serious. His poor attempt at lightening the mood caused grins all around. “I figure we’ll head out as soon as I can get in touch with Giles. Doyle recognized the ‘brat’ as Xander from Cordelia’s year book while you were… somewhat unconscious. I’m not leaving any of you behind so get your stuff together and be ready to go. Hopefully we’ll be out of here by midnight.”

~~~

Cordelia shifted once again in her position in Spike’s lap. The blonde kept on squirming and after barely five minutes he had started biting his thumb again. She sighed and shifted so that she was more on his thighs then anything else. She continued her reading and soon heard the sound of sucking. She looked up and found that Spike had moved from biting to gently sucking on his thumb. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face and barely managed to contain the laughter that bubbled up.

“What the bloody hell are you smilin’ at, woman?” Spike growled teasingly. He unconsciously ran his damp thumb along a patch of smooth, tanned flesh that showed between the fabric of her shirt and the top of her jeans. He couldn’t help but chuckle when her breathing hitched. He was leaning in when Angel appeared from his downstairs office.

“I finally got a hold of Giles. I let him know that we’ll all be there. William, I didn’t mention your name but I did tell him that I’m bringing all of my crew with me. What he assumes is up to him.” Angel dropped down and sat on the floor leaning against the chair and the outside Spike’s left knee. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

They were all so comfortable that none of them noticed as Doyle took a quick picture before sneaking back up to the offices to make some noise.

After a few more minutes of silence Spike spoke up. “That the ‘breed? Bloody hell he took long enough.”

Angel shrugged. He stood and helped Cordelia out of the chair. “Well, let’s get going. The faster we leave, the faster we’ll get there.”

~~~

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please with sugar on top?”

“No.”

“Please with a strawberry on top?”

“No.”

“A cherry?”

“No.”

“Blood?”

“*No.*”

“A blow job?”

“I had one earlier. I don’t need another at the moment.”

“… A hand job?”

“William…” Angel did his best to keep his tone menacing. He even took the chance to throw a glare over his shoulder. Turning back to look at the road, he caught sight of Cordelia barely managing not to laugh. He couldn’t help it: he started to chuckle deep in his throat.

Spike glared at the back of Angel’s head and proceeded to pout. He huffed before drawing himself as close to the door as he could get and faced his death glare out the window. “Spoil sport.”

Silence reigned for the next ten minutes at which point the welcome to Sunnydale sign appeared. “Bloody hell, Peaches! It’s tradition!” Spike roared as they drew nearer to it. He hung his head in sorrow when his outburst was met only with snickers from all around. He plucked at the sweater that he was wearing and sighed dramatically.

Suddenly, the car jerked as it crashed. The sound of splintering wood reached Spike’s ears along with the tell tale sound of the welcome sign crashing down to the ground. Spike’s eyes flew to his Sire and he looked at his Sire with something akin to awe.

“You better think of a way to pay for any scratches,” Angel muttered as he backed up and started down the road again, ignoring the looks on Cordelia and Doyle’s faces.

Spike leered at him. “Don’t bloody worry ‘bout me payin’ yah back. By the time I’m finished with my thank you, you won’t be able to walk for a week!”